How Life is a Little Like Falling Out of Bed

One time when I was young -- maybe somewhere between seven and ten -- I was spending the night at my best friend's house and fell out of her bed in my sleep. I woke up when I hit her wooden desk chair and subsequently began crying.

And I kept crying. But my best friend stayed sound asleep, and no one in her house woke up either. After about ten minutes, I realized no one was going to comfort me. I also realized I was a little sore, but not nearly in as much pain as when I first hit the sharp corners of the chair.

So I stood up, climbed back into bed, and fell asleep.

When I randomly remembered this today, I realized life is much the same way. There might not always be someone there to comfort you when you get knocked down, but you might not always need someone, either. It seems ridiculous to me now that for entire minutes that night I didn't even consider going back to bed until someone -- preferably an adult -- came to check on me.

There will always be things in life that knock us a little. Startle us. Disappoint us. Hurt us.

But the thing is, we get to decide how long those things keep us down. We get to decide what will be enough to get us back up. And as much as we want there to be, there might not always be someone to swoop in and say, "you're fine," or "keep going," or "you can do it." Sometimes we have to say those things to ourselves.

I think it's very easy to let ourselves believe that things are happening to us, without giving ourselves enough credit for what we do about it. It's a silly example, sure, but falling out of the bed that night happened to me. I chose not to spend the rest of the night crying about it on the ground.

It seems so simple now. The key is remembering how to make that decision each time something pushes me down. Something worse. Something with a bit more force.

You're fine. Keep going. You can do it. You can do it.  Everyone, whatever it is. You can do it. Just stand up.

TV and Tears and FEELINGS

I have only ever cried during two movies: Cool Runnings and Jack Frost. Apparently 90s movies really do me in, and for entirely different reasons. In Cool Runnings it was when they hoisted the bobsled above their heads and walked across the finish line, completing their own personal victory. In Jack Frost, I just remember a kid banging a shovel on the ground, frustrated and upset and grieving. So I cried. Just teared up, really.

From Amazon.com

I cry much more frequently at TV shows. I think it's because I can't watch a TV show without diligently watching each episode, so I grow to care for the characters much more than I ever do in movies. I don't think I've ever seen a graduation on a TV show and not cried. For instance, Gilmore Girls is probably my favorite TV show ever, and I cry every single time I watch Rory graduate from high school, and every single time she pulls up to her going away party in the very last episode. And, a little secret,  I've watched every episode of that show more than I should ever admit. So that's a lot of times.

I need to make a clarification here, though - when I say cry, I mostly mean my eyes bubbled with water and maybe one tear slipped down my cheek.

Then this morning, I watched last night's Secret Life of the American Teenager (Warning: Spoilers will follow). This show is my guilty pleasure. I only admit I watch it to my closest of friends (and now all of you!). The thing is, the writing isn't that great. The acting, not so great. But I watched the first episode and I was hooked, because I needed to know what happened. The story intrigued me. And so, I've kept watching. Sometimes I cringed, but mostly it was forty minutes of enjoyment, and then I moved on.

Something started happening this season though. I noticed the acting was better. There were fewer lines that were ridiculously cheesy. The storyline that I had always been interested by had become infused with emotion that was more intense. Then, in the newest episode, one of the characters thought she was going into labor, and instead lost her baby. It's not like this twist is incredibly original, or never been done. I even knew it was coming thanks to the previews. But I'll admit - I cried for the last ten minutes of the episode. I mean, blowing my nose, mascara down my cheek, crying.

The acting was excellent, portraying the heartbreak through their actions and faces without many words. And as a result, I was heartbroken. When the episode ended, I needed something funny, something to make me less upset. Whatever anyone thinks about the decision the show made to have this happen, I think most people would agree this was a very emotional episode.

And here's the thing. My ultimate point. That's the incredible thing about art. I haven't even gotten into the books that have brought about tears, but all forms of art can do many things. They can teach, amuse, enlighten, and they can make you feel. I felt incredibly upset this morning after watching that show, not because I thought those characters were real but because what they went through, other people have too. And when a show or a book makes me feel something I probably otherwise wouldn't have that day, I consider that a job well done. Feeling - whether it's elation or sorrow - is what makes me human. And I wouldn't want to feel any less.