the art of falling apart while keeping it together
When I rise up
let me rise up joyfully
like a bird.
When I fall
let me fall without regret
like a leaf.
-Wendell Berry from Prayers and Sayings of the Mad Farmer
There is nothing like autumn in New York, especially the autumn I moved here four years ago with two suitcases, a low-paying job, and little certainty as to what exactly had drawn me here. It felt like I had fallen face-down into a Manhattan gutter and continued to trip whenever I thought I had regained my balance. Thankfully I had gracious friends to dust me off and get me on my feet again. Because I afforded myself a few short months to fall apart, the impact of losing it and getting it together becomes much less severe with each passing year.
Remember, as kids, falling onto concrete while in mid-run? Maybe it was in P.E. during a kickball game or while riding a bike. The second we ate pavement, we would pause before considering the level of pain [fusion_builder_container hundred_percent=”yes” overflow=”visible”][fusion_builder_row][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][and of course the look of the wound], and would either shake it off or let out a wail of despair depending on how we felt at that moment. We would eventually get up, brush off, and either continue to do the exact same thing that made us fall in the first place or proceed with more mindfulness. So is the story of life.
We can learn from these childhood memories as we transition from one season to the next. Perhaps we notice how we’ve lost touch with that sense of tuning-in we could access more naturally as our younger selves. We can look back and remember how it was OK to fall, to fall apart emotionally based on how the crash made us feel, and move on accordingly.
As adults, many of us may have a tendency to feel the need to stay put together for the sake of our adulthood or professionalism: our childhood is behind us, we should know better, we have responsibilities now and can’t let our emotions get the best of us… It feels wrong to even type the words, and yet I find myself doing things like this almost daily. In the grand scheme of things, what’s the point of holding it so perfectly together like we’re a piece of fine China on the edge of a teetering shelf?
In honor of the season, I am officially giving us all permission to fall apart a little bit. Yes, there is merit to keeping ourselves safe when necessary, should we need to keep our cool for certain situations. But let’s take time to honor the instinctual emotions we feel, similar to what we may have felt after a tumble as a child, and give ourselves a comfortable space to let it out. Cry, shake it out, punch a pillow, fall apart.
As we open up to the part of ourselves that requires we momentarily ditch adulthood and crumble for the sake of fully experiencing what we’re feeling, perhaps the blow will continually start to soften whenever rocky terrain reappears.
Post-fall, the universe will find a way of putting us back together again in time. When I struggled after moving here, my superglue came in the form of phone calls from friends and family to check in, roommates who offered me love and created a home for us in Brooklyn, yoga, and my introduction into the blossoming wellness world of NYC.
Because I felt so broken at the time it may have been easier for me to helplessly lose my sh!t, but regardless as I look back on that somewhat shameful period I can’t help but feel so grateful for the fall. As I climbed my way out of the gutter time after time [and still sometimes do], I found things like Integrative Nutrition, yoga, an incredible wellness community, and made other connections that have changed and shaped my life into what it is today.
At times we’ll have a tiny trip or stumble, other times it may feel like we’ve fallen off a cliff onto gravel. They vary in emotional and physical trauma, they often come as a surprise, and they show no mercy. So let’s experience the fall as our truest childhood selves, throw shame out the door, dust off our knee scabs and get back on the kickball court.
When have you fallen and picked yourself back up?
Read the rest of the newsletter for a seriously delicious fall recipe inspired by Purely Elizabeth, plus their beautiful Purely Fall Magazine, Meiko’s new album + more.[/fusion_builder_column][/fusion_builder_row][/fusion_builder_container]
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