Slow down. You move too fast. Simon & Garfunkel’s lyrics played in my head a few days after Easter Saturday. That was the day that I stumbled and fell on my condo sidewalk an hour before leaving for the airport to visit my daughter.
In a flash, humiliation flooded over me. Then the telephone of my voice cried out to the empty morning air, “No, No, No”. The Harsh Judge chimed into the conversation: Why were you floating in the air without focusing on your feet?
While my heart raced, I cared for the injuries. Then, I settled into my centering chair wondering if I had the confidence to make the flight with scraped raw hands and a bruised puffy lip. With one hour to pull everything together, I turned to my practices.
Be still. Breathe. Journal. Pray ~ Show me. Teach me.
A lesson in humility had arrived. The hour passed. Imperfect and agitated…and good enough to go.
On Easter Monday I walked to St. Mary’s Catholic Church in Old Town Alexandria for noon Mass and encountered a deeper aspect of humility as if to seal it on my heart. As I settled into a pew, my senses awakened to the sweet scent of Easter lilies that were placed in every window sill of the beautiful stained glass windows. I looked at the wall over my left shoulder to read the Station of the Cross number 7: Jesus falls the second time.
My Easter meditation of “dying to my old self and rising to a deeper Self” became a personal experience during the three days: Good Friday. Easter Saturday. Resurrection Sunday. Between the day of dying and rising, I surrendered another layer of a fake identity of looking “perfect” and gleaned a lesson in humility.
As I keep walking the Path of life, I will stumble and fall and also rise to find my essence once again.