Land on Your Feet

 

In 1894, Étienne-Jules Marey, a French scientist and pioneer in cinema, created footage known as “Falling Cat.” Supposedly, it is the first motion picture to show a live cat.

 In this brief film, a white cat is seen falling, frame by frame, twisting until it lands on its feet aright.

I wish I could be more surefooted and graceful on my feet. Not so that I look like some ethereal white kitty, twisting and falling through the air with natural beauty and style.

It had more to do with the practical; I just didn’t want to keep hurting myself with my own two feet.

I have had, arguably, three separate instances of falling in such a way that I wound up hurt.

Rural Dance Sequence Attempt:

Okay, so please let me set the stage, the small-town farm stage. Me, as a teenager, on a farm with no cable television, specifically, no MTV (where, once upon a time, Boys and Girls, music videos were played on the cable network). Teenage me had to survive as best as she could, by videotaping the current music videos, as played on episodes of Friday Night Videos (the poor teen’s MTV).

Anyway, because I lived on a small-town cable-free, farm, I had to resort to the VCR playback of videos in my parents’ family room. And I decided to dance, because, you know, to paraphrase the Miami Sound Machine, “the rhythm was gonna get me.”

What was also gonna get me? My lack of coordination and actual dance talent for the moves I earnestly tried to bust.

Gee, what do you think will happen?

Well, during one kick-pirouette maneuver that I thought would rival any Broadway dancer, one late summer day, I felt and heard my knee go “pop!” Not a reassuring, tactile experience. My thirteen- year- old met the floor, with my knee screaming at me, refusing to cooperate. I couldn’t get up from the floor.

So, two days away from my first day of the eighth grade, I saw a doctor, who informed me that my knee went out, but that it “wasn’t that serious.” Just be careful walking on it, the long lengths of high school hallways, that’s all.

Sure.

I spent the next two weeks of the eighth grade consistently being late for class, as the swelling in my knee gradually went down. And I learned how injuries can happen, even to a thirteen-year-old.

Youth Hurts:

Yes, there is a timeless lesson right there. We get hurt while young. It can often be a shocker to us, in that young moment of our lives. Broken bones, broken hearts, broken dreams. We’ll get hurt.

Yet, how many of us underestimate that principle, no matter how young (or old) we get in life? We are in some form of disbelief or denial as we encounter the consequences of acting willy-nilly, jumping of a roof on a dare, only to wind up in the emergency room, or being irresponsible and stupid.

I learned, by experiencing the Achilles Heel of my clumsiness, my lack of critical thought and dance training, that, why yes, life hurts. I’m not immune or invincible. Instead, I’m a young teenager, hobbling down high school hallways, resenting my farm life existence.

But I learned life hurts. No exceptions for youth, improper dance moves, or lack or thoughtful planning. We are not the graceful, white feline of Marey’s film. Maybe, we land on our feet, after some twisting, but, when we finally do hit the ground, we, do, indeed, discover: Life hurts.

Stubbed And Stupid?

Many moons after my teenage dance routine gone wrong, I had yet another foot/landing trouble experience. I guess it served me right; I was sincere about my commitment to exercise.

This incident would, perhaps, be romantic and heroic, if I had, indeed, injured myself pursuing some mammoth fitness goal: scales the Andes, training for a marathon, bench pressing four hundred pounds. It was not that glamorous. There was no Rocky training hard core, making his triumphant way up the Philadelphia steps. Nope.

Instead, it was me, hurting my little toe while close to my exercise bike. I was not on it, “overtraining.” I hadn’t become overzealous, and my foot slipped and stubbed itself into the exercise equipment. I had not even stubbed my little toe, exiting the bike, after a fruitful and powerful workout. I could not even enjoy the adrenaline rush/pain killer of feeling that burn. No, I passed by the bike, neither got on or off it. And I clumsily rammed my little toe into it.

Graceful. Powerful. Dedicated.

With it turning black and blue, throbbing, and feeling hot to the touch, yes, I went to the doctor, just to make sure it wasn’t broken. X-rays were done. No big damage. Just pain. I was patted on the head and told to go heal like a real adult now.

It took over a year for things to get back to “normal.” An angel of a nurse, in passing, mentioned how I had a bruised bone, “and they take a long time to heal.”

Hallelujah. I heard angels sighing, no longer snickering at me for the guardian assignments they were given concerning me. I had validation, to go with my sore, embarrassingly hurt toe.

Ignorance is Not Necessarily Bliss:

Much like that falling white kitty, you and I can often feel left to fend for ourselves, twisting in our lack of information, knowledge, and wisdom. We twist, sometimes in pain, in embarrassment, feeling stupid, until, perhaps, one glorious moment. In that moment, maybe we learn something that cancels, or, at least, challenges, the “we are stupid” assertion.

Then, we can land on our feet.

We need incoming information that has yet to materialize. Don’t beat yourself up, while waiting for it.

So, maybe you are mid-twist right now. Maybe you metaphorically stubbed your toe when you could have heroically injured yourself, possessing that fabulous war story. Maybe you feel like you’re falling down in terminal stupidity as you live your actual life.

Twists and turns… and learning. You will land, Wonderful Feline Soul, with or without a sore toe.

Weathering the Aches:

The hits keep coming, Folks. What’s the latest foot/leg injury? A couple of months ago, I wrenched my ankle by, get ready for the excitement, Ladies and Gentlemen, taking a step downstairs in our apartment building. Just taking one step. Somehow, the athlete that I am managed to land hard and straight on my ankle by taking one step. One step.

It hasn’t felt the same since. Epson salt bath? Yep. Icing it? Yep. Staying off it as much as possible, yeah, but it is one of the two feet I use for walking, so…

Anyway, this experience reminded me about mortality, the aging process, and, I guess, my need to fully warm up before I even think about walking.

Not AGAIN!

And I’ve had to learn about accepting the ongoing, annoying reality of pain. It is managed, more often, than cured for us, isn’t it? And isn’t that a metaphor for life itself? No one perfectly cures their lives. It’s coping, dealing. It’s having the acne breakout on your wedding day. It’s limping through a workday (figuratively or literally, take your pick). It’s when we fall flat on the sidewalk in the presence of others who maybe, laugh and point. It’s the struggle when it should be an easy, no-brainer that JUST WILL NOT END!!!

Any one of those will suffice. An endless variety of humiliating, annoying, painful, and humbling situations will arise. Never fear.

We will start out great, like the white fluffy falling cat. And then plans go awry. Twisting. Contorted faces. Maybe we pass gas as we fall through a life moment with the greatest of ease.

Regardless, it continues. We never reach a perfected, fall-proof state of being. We will age, probably fall apart in some way, and have our lives and our bodies changed.

But again, Dear Feline Comrade, you and I land on our feet.

However messily, but we land.

Copyright © 2022 by Sheryle Cruse

 

 

 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=8&v=XqL9siGDeBA&feature=emb_logo