My relationship with the floor is the only thing that I know won’t change with time. Like an old friend, our relationship won’t fade. When I fall, the floor will catch me.
When I was a drama student I had to learn to fall. Stretch, relax, breath, and now fall. Up and do it again. And again. And again. Until it doesn’t hurt. There is an art to falling. The key is to commit. Commit: do not to try to catch yourself. The floor will catch you. Now you can learn to direct your fall. Fall safely, the floor will catch you. After you’ve learned how to fall you put the fall into the lines. And the stage floor will catch you.
After I learned how to fall I put it into practice. If I started to fall I just fell. I was less likely to get injured if I committed to the fall. When my body changed I lost the ability to fall safely. I don’t have the control over my muscles, I can’t make them relax. But, the floor is still there to catch me.
I knew I had a solid bond with the floor a few weeks after I started having pretty regular seizures. I woke on the floor. I knew I had just had a seizure by the looks on peoples faces. I said, “hello floor.” I couldn’t ask “why am I here?” I knew. I couldn’t ask “where am I?” I could tell by looking around. Then I looked at the scared faces and said “I’m alright.” The floor was there to catch me.
The floor is always there to catch me.
The floor is always there to welcome me back.