Just Laugh it Off

Around the age of thirteen or so, I was not particularly graceful.  I was thin and probably a little gangly, and I was always tripping over something--my own two feet if nothing else.  At the time, I was extremely embarrassed by my klutziness, and I could imagine nothing worse than having someone witness it

Now that I'm older, I can't say that I'm a whole lot more graceful.  I still trip and fall over things.  I've even fallen up the stairs (yes, UP) a time or two.  The difference is I'm not so embarrassed anymore.  I realize how funny it must look, so I laugh (well, I laugh as long as I don't hurt myself).  It's to the point that if I am going to trip and fall, I kind of hope someone is there to see it, that way if it makes them laugh, at least I didn't go down in vain.  I've been there for a few spectacular falls with a few of my friends, and I can say wholeheartedly that if it were me, I would want them to see it, because it was REALLY funny.  Just thinking about it can still make me laugh.

At Bible school I had these shoes that were always making me fall.  I don't know if they weren't the right size or if I didn't strap them tight enough, but they were not safe to walk on.  There were two times in particular that I fell wearing those shoes, and no one saw either one, but if they had they would have laughed their socks off.  

The first time, I was leaving class and going back to my dorm room when I suddenly misstepped and fell into some bushes.  There was a whole crowd of people nearby, but when I looked back, not one person was looking my direction.  

The second time, I was up in the balcony and was walking down the stairs when one of my shoes mutinied once again and I did this crazy spin-turn-fall.  And yet again, no one was around, no one saw.  That I know of!  There could very well be a person out there who still laughs thinking about the girl who fell into the bushes.

Is there a moral to this story?  Possibly.  Do I know what it is? No.  Let's try something like this: Learn to laugh at yourself.  Or how about, "Embrace your inner klutz."  Or outer klutz, in my case.