Thanks, a little late

Tonight, I’m thankful that…
• None of the “something’s wrong” lights are on in my car.
• Tonight, all the semis and other huge vehicles drove in the right lane, that is to say, the right lane, and the correct lane.
• I have discovered foods I love that are healthy.
• Predictive text didn’t turn any of my messages into anything requiring an apology and an explanation.
• The neighbor’s dog didn’t kill Scout when she dug under the fence, entered the neighbor’s house through the doggie door, and began to eat the dog’s food.
• I locked my keys in my car only a mile from my house, my awesome neighbor was home with a key to my house, I have a spare set of easy to find keys, no one on North Tarrant honked or yelled at us, and the weather was very pleasant.
• I’m not the president of anything.
• My professor was very understanding and gracious when I missed our meeting and even agreed to go over my outline on her own time. I swear I didn’t get that email.
• This is my last week of night classes, and next week is dead week.
• I got to talk to several of my favorite people on the phone today.
• I have heat, hot water, warm covers on a comfy bed, plenty of food, and doors that lock tight.
• I might just get to bed at a reasonable, human hour tonight.
All is well.

I live at the top of a hill. This becomes evident whenever it gets really windy. My yard fills with detritus blown from other people's garage/garbage/lives, and I am too embarrassed to tell you some of the things I've found in my yard. This also means whenever it rains the water doesn't really sit in my yard, I have a great view of downtown, and a nice breeze when I remember to open the windows.

Last week I decided to take my roller blades out for a nostalgic spin, which was fun, because I used to rock at roller blading. (I feel like I can say this with humility because I am aware roller blading is largely regarded as a pretty lame sport). I got halfway down this giant hill and realized my brake was completely worn down. Completely. This was around the time I reached that I'm-about-to-be-out-of-control speed with which anyone who has ever learned to ski will be familiar. I realized I needed a place to fall. My choices were the street, mailboxes, private property, or the bottom of the hill and a car. So, I veered off into someone's lawn and face planted. I mean, yard sale. I had a big scratch on my nose right between my eyes for a week. Not sure how that happened. I also scratched up my forehead and my nose - awesome. I'm pretty sure no one saw me or I would have heard them laughing. As I lay there recovering, I realized I'd forgotten how to fall. I used to do this all the time - skate/bike into someone's yard and do a safe rolling fall. Laying in someone's lawn I contemplated the great life lesson that is Learning How to Fall Correctly. Because if you don't know how to fall, you get hurt every time and then you never try anything. It seems many professions are focused around this one lesson, and its partner, Getting Back Up and Trying Again Before You Develop a Phobia. Counselors, ministers, teachers, coaches, trainers - all teach us different ways of falling correctly and trying again. It took a pretty serious grass stain on my eyebrow to remember how to shrink my height and roll. Perhaps this is the secret behind truly successful people - not letting your fall control and defeat you, and getting back up again. Then you don't fear falling, you fear missing out on something.