Walking down the sidewalk, my rolling cart’s wheel was stopped dead by a deep crack. Yanked my bag right from my hand. The cart smashed to the ground, contents spilling. Everything came tumbling out onto the sidewalk in front of God and everyone. Most ppl walking stopped, in reaction to the loud sound, and helped to retrieve all of my belongings, my lunch bag, apple, fork, napkins, box of paper clips, folder, tampon (lol), water bottle…they were all so cheerful and concerned about getting me my things. I just sat there and allowed. I allowed the help. It felt so kind, so spontaneous. I didn’t really have time to stop anyone or object. Wow, most were rushing to get their morning on, yet they didn’t hesitate to help me. It felt organic and sweet.
Boy, am I grown up! My default used to be embarrassment, humiliation that I had screwed up. And God forbid people would have to help me – Yikes! that meant that I was weak and that was dangerous in my family of origin. But this time I felt very different – even indifferent. I felt more like an observer rather than the one in the spotlight. Who would think that something as silly as spilling your bag on the sidewalk would be so profound.
My lack of reaction surprised even me. I stated, “Oh my goodness gracious”… My way of saying – Oh well, who gives a shit LOL. And the way those words leaked right out of me without a thought, now THAT’S priceless. The old me would have laughed nervously and made some kind of derogatory remark about how clumsy, stupid or ridiculous I am. The old me would have wanted to hide immediately and make the whole incident disappear. I kept my composure, I wasn’t out of breath, dizzy, or otherwise triggered.
I remained grounded like it never happened and carried on with my head held high. I never even had the chance to pick up ANY of my belongings, there were so many kind souls around me – all I had to do was accept their immediate help. I accepted it graciously. No apologies. (that was def new).
All of this unfolded effortlessly and I was quite proud of my reaction. I immediately knew my “no reaction” reaction was a beautiful testament to all of the work I’ve done. All of the focus on retrieving my self-esteem, right to exist, not having to be perfect, not having to apologize for everything, my ability to accept help and feel good about it – was paying off right in front of my eyes.
At that moment I got the message clearer than ever, more than ever. I am beautifully human, just human. I make mistakes, I am worthy of love anyway. I am worthy of help. I have the right to be alive. I am having an experience, a human experience. How beautifully imperfect. How lovely. Anyway