Sitting in my black chair on another cold, drizzly Friday night, I see the usual stop lights and wet streets and brake lights of traffic heading home. I see the night lights of neighbors’ and friends’ homes. I consider this day and the days before and the days to follow. There have been some doozies.
Last year, I slowly, but steadily moved towards the ledge of an abyss. Last autumn, I stepped off and into a blank space. I fell. With no landing in sight, I began to work. I moved and I wrote. And, I still am. But, I may be on my way back up. I may have bounced and not felt it. It’s too soon to tell, but I’m hopeful.
Most falls are accompanied by a bounce. Few falls are fatal and end in the dull thud of finality. Our spirits are rubber or elastic and can bounce. Falls and bounces are both necessary for a good life. The fall forces us to think differently. We learn things we can learn no other way. We find the truth in our feelings. And, having nothing left to lose, we can be brave in telling it and living it. Falls are important.
The bounce is important, too. Here, we get to use the information learned from the fall to build better things- to think better thoughts and feel better feelings. The bounce is our second chance. It is an atonement and a redemption and an apology for life before the fall. It’s a love song to the life and person we aspire to have and be. Bounces are important, too.
During the fall, it’s easy to forget about the bounce. Not a lot of positive, forward thinking happens during the fall. But, through some action and time, at some often imperceptible moment, the bounce begins, and we’re moving back up. We may not even know it. The bounce is sneaky. Maybe it doesn’t want us to know we’re on the way back up to prevent us from taking our foot off the gas. Smart move, Mr. Bounce.
So, again, I sit and think and write words. With a stinky, little black dog nearby, I stay true to my course. I’ve stopped worrying about a fall or a bounce and just keep moving, carrying my truth with me. That said, I like to think my bounce is close.
And, if you took a fall, I’m rooting for your bounce, too. I hope it’s a big bounce. We’ve earned it.
Photo credit: Robin Malmanger
Dave Markwell is a life-long Des Moines liver and lover. Former owner of Waterland CrossFit and the Waterland Arcade, Dave uses his unique story-telling voice to help small businesses tell a better story, and his love for people to help folks live bigger and better lives. For more info, check out his website: wordsbydave.net
