Listen to Your Butt

Ever since I signed up for the AVON Walk for Breast Cancer, I’ve elected for metro-abstinence and have been walking the 4 mile distance between my stu-stu-studio and work. I love this new element to my mornings, so much so that I elected to walk to work today, when the average temperature was 19 degrees.

Hi, I’m a Floridian by birth, and I get the chills from ice cream to prove it. It wasn’t the cold that bothered me most. What really turned my mood sour (and dark) was when I slipped on what is known as "black ice."

Black ice forms over black pavement so you don't see the threat to your life that easily. I sure as hell didn't.

In what felt like a mili-second, I went from walking (in my new Brooks) to lying flat on my back in a pedestrian walkway on Connecticut Ave. My hat fell off.

Getting back up took more than one attempt as I was on black ice, and it seemed to enjoy keeping me close. A woman witnessed my audition for making a snow angel (though there was no snow) and asked if I was ok. I think she alerted me (oh no, do I have amnesia?) to the fact that my hat had fallen off. I stood up (eventually) and saw my hat (straight off the set of Blossom) lying in the street. And my ears went cold fast.

I looked around to see if there were any cars and then retrieved my hat (carefully).

Back to safety, via the sidewalk, I put my coffee cup (no spills!) on a ledge so I could wipe off my pants and utter “Oh my god” repeatedly. Was that my mind or my butt speaking?

I felt like I did something wrong. I felt ashamed. Even dirty (thankfully black ice doesn’t stain). Once a goodie-two-shoes always hyper sensitive to unintended consequences. Story of my life.

I started to walk again, thinking about how my back stung a bit, wondering if my lunch spilled in my backpack, and contemplating the likelihood of a sore bum for days (you know how bad that hurts). I thought about getting on the metro at the next station, but I’m determined to walk to work.

“You’re an idiot,” says my tush. My mom will repeat my rear’s sentiments later in the day.

As I continued walking, it hit me that no matter how much I try to (gain) control of my life by depending on (waiting around for) gut feelings of direction, the reality of what to do when – in a larger sense – you don’t know what to do, is listen to what your ‘arse can tell you: don’t lose sight of the minor navigations needed to successfully make it through the day, like paying attention to the road if you’re walking/driving, checking expiration dates on food in your fridge (spoiled tofu detected this evening), and monitoring your online bank statement if the print copy still goes to your parents’ house (am I alone on this one?).

Truth to be found in the details? I sure hope so because from this point forward, I’m going to give some TLC (tush lovin' care) to the still frames that collectively deliver us (me, fingers crossed) to the bigger picture.