(Re-post from 2/7/15)
And Then the Floor Shook…
But seriously, I am almost sure that one of the floor boards is at the very least cracked. What happened was that I was rushing from the copier to back to my desk at the front windows at work. I was looking through the paperwork I had just copied and tripped on my own two feet and fell.
Thank goodness I was wearing leggings under my skirt or that would have been a show for sure! Next thing I know one of the guards and one of my co-workers were there asking if I was okay.
I admit it, my mind went there, “Yay! That’s what I have to look forward to…” I wanted to go home, I really did. Then my co-worker went to get my supervisor, who made me go in HER supervisor’s office, who escorted me to the infirmary. I was mortified, I was embarrassed, I was in shock. It was my own inattention and lack of coordination that made me fall. They wanted to make sure that things were documented in case of a Worker’s Comp claim was needed or something. But really?
While I waited at the infirmary I had a moment to think about the whole situation. I was careless, not dizzy or anything else that was related to MS. You see, I’m chronically clumsy; I’ve been walking into doors, walls and furniture my whole adult life.
And then I thought about what I would need to do to go home. I rode the bus to work, and that particular bus doesn’t run back to my area of Wonderland until after 3 pm; neither does the commuter train. Which meant I would have to walk about three blocks, some of them uphill. To get to the one bus that runs pretty much all day and could get me to my car. All in all, IF I had left work at 11:45 am I wouldn’t have gotten home until at least 2 pm. To me, that was a logistic fallacy, so I stayed and worked the rest of the day. I think that I can use my annual and sick leave and credit hours WAY more efficiently than leaving work because I was embarrassed. Now, if I had peed on myself or something like that then I wouldn’t have thought twice about leaving. But my pride learned that particular lesson back in 1998.
In the meantime, Copaxone once a day and all the other supplements. I have been wanting to punch people in the face for irritating me, though. Therapy helps me to put things in perspective, but every time I have to repeat myself or have to listen to someone telling me what I have to do and how I have to “prepare myself” I really want to punch them in the face.
So I decided to research Mandalas and how to make them. The instructions made me angry because Mandalas are like my relationship with the Divine: personal. I don’t allow anyone to tell me how to interact with God, so yeah.
I created my very first Mandala. It’s not what the instructions said, but it is what moved me and I think that THAT is the most important thing. I believe that they are personal and that the same image will not represent the same thing in the same exact way to any two different people. I also feel that the creative method is personal to the person who is inspired to create the image. One thing I can say is that what I set out to create is not what the end result represents to me. But it is EXACTLY what I was guided to create.