I’ve been thinking a lot about this fall I experienced. The physical aftermath kind of acts as a reminder; sensitive scabs and bruises, etc. What I really get into, though, is the detective work that comes after the big event.


Whenever something happens like this, I mean something that I cannot ignore, I can’t help but wonder what the universe is trying to tell me. And it becomes a sort of mystery to solve. To be honest, I really enjoy this part. What am I supposed to learn? What do I need to change? What is the great life lesson? Is there a lesson?

Other memorable occasions in which I became a detective were after my son passed away in 2005 and the summer of 2007 when I got stung by a wasp and learned that I was deathly allergic to bee stings. I don’t have a definitive answer for why those things happened, but I do know that they have shaped me. They have encouraged more self awareness. They have been followed by change. Actually, I’m still pretty in the dark about the bee sting. I imagine it will unfold at some point, though.

Back to now. I fall down loads of stairs with, essentially, two children. Everyone is fine. What the hell? Emotions I experienced (in no particular order): fear, anger, relief, sadness, happiness, joy, excitement, shame, regret. Kind of an interesting pile. I’m presently more into the excitement phase, complemented by just a hint of shame and regret.

Another interesting…aspect, I guess, is that this has really brought Liam up a lot, but with new awareness. Falling down the steps made me severely aware that the mere idea of losing one of my children is unbearable. I kind of turn my head away from the thought of it (I’m doing that right now). I don’t know if I could handle the loss of a child. And here I am having lost a child. And I totally accept that. Like I have processed it and it’s a part of me, part of my being. I can nod my head and say “Yes, Liam died, this is the truth. Yes, I am okay, this is the truth.” I don’t know how to better articulate what it is about those two feelings other than the former, regarding my children today, is total fear and denial, and the latter is complete acceptance. Interesting, huh?

Now it’s time to explore the fall and maybe learn something. I make art, of course. I love collage because I come across images that I probably wouldn’t put into a drawing or painting.


I try not to let my judgment come into it. Today I’ve been paging through some magazines repeating fall in my head as I go. Usually what happens when I know I want to use something is that I’ll say, “Ooh!” TheĀ ooh, I believe, comes from my heart.


Then, often, my head comes in and says something jerky like, “Super cheeseball,” or “What the hell do pomegranates have to do with falling?” or “You suck at this.” So then I tell my head to shush and attempt to get back to the place where I see something, feel the rightness of it, and go for it. Some days I tell my head to eff off.


Okay, right, so what does this all mean? I don’t know. But it might be worth my time to look up the symbolism of the things that showed up in my image. I’m really curious about the pomegranates and charcoal. Oh, and the donkey (ass?).

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