A few months back, in the midst of our family reunion, my niece lost the diamond from her wedding band. Good faith searches of the massive yard and the house proved futile, a real-life hunt for a needle in a haystack. Weeks later, my dad cracked his kneecap on the corner of the kitchen door and ended up face first on the linoleum. Through the blinding pain, this bug’s eye view afforded him a glimpse at a glimmer under the threshold of the offending door. You guessed it ~ her diamond.
The universe must be using knee injuries as the latest attention-getting device. Big Daisy’s recent patella strain has forced us to forgo all the tall furniture and hang out closer to the floor. Mattresses and pillows and cushions have replaced anything over 8 inches tall that can be leapt on or crawled upon. But honestly, between being literally grounded and not having a tv, (because it died over the weekend) I’ve noticed I am feeling much more connected to myself. It’s a forced downsizing, but one I have so seemed to need lately. Yes, I know, just because the dogs have to stay on the floor doesn’t mean I have to . . . but in my house, that’s just the way we roll.
This new perspective reminds me of the first two weeks of “LA 2010” when there was no bed, no sofa, no chair, only blankets on the floor. We were cushioned by the kindness of new friends in our building, soothed by the cool California night air, and lulled to sleep by the smooth sounds of the sax being played in the apartment below. I never slept so peacefully; I haven’t since.
This change in latitude has also caused a change in attitude, somehow opening the door a crack to release, ever so slightly, the steady stream of events and emotions and insights that, over the past couple of years, molded this person I have become. Until now, they’ve sat stuck in that place between my heart and my tongue, threatening to choke the life from my throat each time I dared release them into the open, for fear I would cause discomfort in someone else’s space. But my space matters too.
Yep, down here on the floor, I think I have found my voice. That’s a diamond of a different sort.