shadowcasting

it's been a week of living in the s.l.o.w. lane.
took a spill last sunday while exploring an urban trail near the house. as i was breathing in the joy of morning and ideas and lazy conversation with my sweetie, a rusty wire hanger with nothing better to do reached out and bit my foot.
maybe it was just trying to get my attention?
it so did.
i've been replaying the wild upendedness on my internal movie screen every day since. all of a sudden, the bluesky traded places with the gravelly trail and down went up and i went down.
arms that had been swinging happily forward pitched low to soften the crash. time didn't slow down, as it seems to do in movies. everything happened in the space of a breath.
thankfully nothing broke (hence the post-crash photo at right) though the wrist on the right got sprained and the rotator cuff on the left got torn and the knee got away with just a scratch.
so i've had a week of life -- more of the deep stuff; less of the fluff -- at a much lower mph.
(literally. since it took 5 days to be able to wash hair in the shower with both hands -- !!! -- the car hasn't gotten so much as a glance.)
it's been enough to give even a biology freak like me (who finally made it to philly's mutter museum this spring and if you haven't gone yet, do) a new respect for the symphony of unsung muscles and tendons that whir away behind the scenes.
so maybe that's the freebie. limited distractions equals deeper focus and even more gratitude for the whole schmear.
so i guess i owe that old rusty hanger a note of thanks:
i'm sore -- but not at you.