The Hind Brain at the Top of the Stairs
My best friend noticed that, when I stand at the top of steep stairs, I have a whole routine: I pause, look down at the steps, make sure I can grab the bannister, grab it, and walk slowly down, placing my feet very deliberately on each step.
She says it reminds her of having a conversation with her Mom 20 years ago, when Mom said that, as you get older, your mind reminds you of mortality, in flashes where there’s the potential for danger. Mom said that, at the top of stairs, she gets a flash of herself lying on the ground after tumbling down. It’s completely involuntary (and, needless to say, unwanted!). But it makes her proceed with more caution than she would have when she was younger.
My friend says that she scoffed: Oh, that’s just old person fearfulness! But, now that she’s older, she finds herself having those flashes as well.
I could only nod and laugh: that flash of a disastrous fall, the result of not going carefully, has been a staple of my hind brain for a long time. Now that I’m a very-glad-to-be-alive 50, I do find myself being more aware of it. However, I don’t want to turn into one of those fearful, trembling folks, afraid to put a foot wrong.
I’m not into broken bones, either, mind you. That’s partially why I don’t ski, although I do love the feeling of speed.
So, in a very slow, steady way, I’m doing my morning fast walking, and lifting very light freeweights 3 times a week, because it’s necessary, for my image of the person I’m turning myself into, to balance the hindbrain with just a bit of good old reckless abandon…
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