A Man Who Fell To Earth

I had a fall the other day. One moment I was walking, and the next moment I was falling, unable to stop, helpless to do much more than meet the ground. The fall was compounded by the fact that my dear wife was walking in front of me, so that when I lost my footing, and found the flooring, I fell right on top of her. All 180 lbs of me, like dead weight, a crashing bore brought not to his knees, but fully earthbound.

As early as when we learn to walk, we also learn to fall. Merrily, merrily, we all fall down. In some ways, life is one big fall. We crawl, we grow to a standing position, we walk, we run, we fly, we swim, we drink, we fall, and then we crawl. And in the end, there is only the ground to meet us, to “cushion” our fall.

Even in our sleep we fall. In fact, we fall to sleep, don’t we? Do you remember those dreams of flying when you were a kid? I would be running from someone in my dream, and suddenly I would escape by learning to fly. Do you remember the exhilaration of flying in a dream? That hasn’t happened in more than 60 years.

What does it mean when you fall in your dreams?

Carl Jung in Man and His Symbols, relates the myth of Icarus.

The general function of dreams is to try to restore our psychological balance by producing dream material that re-establishes, in a subtle way, the total psychic equilibrium. It explains why people who have unrealistic ideas or too high an opinion of themselves, or who make grand plans that are out of proportion to their real capabilities, have dreams of flying or falling. The dream compensates for the deficiencies of their personalities, while warning them of the dangers in their present course. If the warnings of the dream are disregarded, real accidents may take their place. The victim may fall downstairs or may have a car accident. Carl Jung

My earliest memory is one of falling down concrete steps at the age of 2. I lost my left front tooth in that accident. Later, at age 8, I was learning how to ride a bike. I zigged when I should have zagged, falling to the ground, my left front tooth piercing my upper lip, and breaking a chip off, right about the halfway point. I had a giant swollen lip for what seemed like weeks. My older brothers teased me relentlessly, first calling me a Ubangi ( no racial sensitivity in the mid-60’s), and then later metal mouth, when I got a silver cap, and then braces. I was warned never to go out in a lightening storm for fear of being struck down, presumably the lightening bolt would strike me in the mouth, my superconducting metal mouth.

Since my bypass operation, I attend a weekly class of physical rehab. In the past six months, we have concentrated on balance and coordination exercises. You really know when you are a senior when the focus is on how not to fall, or how to protect yourself in a fall, hopefully to avoid breaking a bone, or hip, ending up in the hospital and dying of pneumonia. Because that is the logical progression. Fall, hip breaks, hospital, pneumonia, death.

Yesterday I learned something new from watching TV. I learned where my heart is located. I suppose that sounds funny coming from a guy who had a heart attack, and 15 years later a triple bypass, to be learning on the dark side of 64 where his heart is located. Apparently, the heart is in the centre of your chest, slightly skewed to the left side, but mainly in the middle. All those years, standing for the Pledge of Allegiance, placing my right hand on my left nipple, which I presumed was where my heart was. I was off by a few inches. It should be obvious as they carved me down the middle of my chest, cracking my sternum, because, you know that is where the heart is.

I should take comfort in the fact that I am always learning. I am ready and willing to have my lifelong beliefs shattered. Mr. D. Mills, are you ready for your closeup? Are you ready for your fall? You never know when you will fall. That is why it is called an accident. This is why it is so important to do the balance and coordination exercises.

Thankfully neither my wife nor I were seriously injured, no concussions, no broken nose or teeth, no fractured hips or tailbone. Actually I did fracture my tailbone when I was about 25. I was coming in a back door of a restaurant I worked at, down a ramp carrying boxes so I couldn’t see exactly where I was going. When my wet shoes met the smooth concrete floor, my feet sailed up in the air. I came down hard, landing on my butt, fracturing my tailbone.

I remember lying in bed, reliving over and over that feeling of utter loss of control, again and again. It was too painful to walk. That was forty years ago. That same feeling came to me the other night, as once again, I fell with no control as to how I would land. Fortunately, I am a very lucky person. Fortunately my wife was not seriously injured. As my mother would say, there but for the Grace of God, go I. It wasn’t a fall from Grace, and it certainly wasn’t graceful. It wasn’t even that special. Because people fall all the time. They fall in love. They fall in with the wrong crowd. So yes, I am The Man Who Fell To Earth. And lived to tell the tale.