I have a wonderful student who comes to eat lunch with me every other week. We spend some quality time together, and I try to exercise my half of a counseling degree (don't worry, she's only allowed to tell me half her problems). This particular young lady happens to be passionate about gymnastics, so our conversation often goes in that direction. Somehow, our joint enthusiasm about handstands led to a knowingly unwise decision to demonstrate my favorite handstand technique. Unfortunately it has been months since I practiced them on a regular basis. And yes, I fell in a pile on the hardwood floor of my office. So now I have a grumpy left shoulder and an angry hand that won't be able to set at volleyball practice. OW!
A little pain I can deal with, especially after seeing old family friends who just wrote a book about living with Cystic Fybrosis. Although it is amazing how humbling even a small injury is for me, and it always reminds me how much I take for granted.

But I'm told that I provided a wonderful model of vulnerability and imperfection to my young friend. Well, you know - I try.
Note: Adjacent photo is my attempt to prove that I have indeed been capable of such acrobatics in the recent past. I swear.
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