It’s not the falling over that matters…
it’s how you style it
She used to fall down a lot
That girl was always falling
Again and again
(The Cure — Catch — 1987)
Do you fall over much? I hope not, but I do. It’s annoying as I’m not always drunk or stupid. Obviously, sometimes I’ve been both those things, but now my walking is compromised by a hidden problem In My Head. Yes, I’ve got an invisible illness! (See my profile for more details)
Now that I’ve come to terms with that part of the equation, it’s the falling over bit that still gets to me. It’s annoying, embarrassing and painful.
Bizarrely, even when I’m being super careful, I can still find myself in danger. Picking my way around cobblestones (we do have cobblestones in parts of the city where I live) might mean my foot is going to trip. And if I avoid the cobblestones at the last minute, I’m definitely going to trip.
But it’s not all about cobblestones. A very slight change in the surface of a pavement, a surprise dip or hump, can have me wobbling, staggering, reaching desperately into space for a non-existent handrail to stop the fall.
Why not use a stick then? I hear you cry. Ah, but I do! However, even with my trusty walking stick, cane, staff or stave, tripping over doesn’t always stop. In fact, I have on occasion seen my stick be violently thrown from me as I fall. For some reason, this sometimes seems to upset people almost more than me falling.
As I am sprawled on the ground, my stick appears to be embarrassed to be with me. I don’t blame it. ‘Here’s your stick,’ a kind stranger will say as I drag myself upwards (actually, they often help me up too).
It’s as if by handing me my walking stick back they are offering me a talisman against further falls. Whilst secretly knowing that this particular talisman clearly doesn’t always work.
When I topple over, I am very alive to how my body reacts to this surprise event. Muscles tighten, my breath is caught, my heart’s banging with shock. The nature of falling without preparation, is such a powerful and potentially dangerous act. You can break bones, sprain ankles, cut hands as you hit the floor. If I had learnt martial arts would I do it better? Possibly.
For now, I just take a lot of care when I walk. And I have to walk as I love it. It helps my physical and mental health. It is like meditation when you are so in the moment, noting every step you take, watching intently for bad pavements or pot holed roads, carefully manoeuvring yourself around people in busy streets.
I also wear headphones and play banging tunes to keep me motivated. I call these my ‘walking beats’ and wear my Doctor Marten boots. I always think that if I do fall over, it’s important to have good footwear.
I hope I’m not scaring you! So far, I’ve sustained minor injuries: a bruise or two, a scraped palm, a bloodied elbow. What is usually hurt the most is my pride. And how do I deal with that? Laugh, explain I’m not drunk and thank anyone who has helped me. After that, I continue on my merry way.
Life is like that. ‘Pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and start all over again!’ is my internal mantra (with thanks to ‘Swing Time’ musical, 1936) https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AGUsRGuZb6km
