Small achievements ...big victory - One woman's journey to wellness and well-being
By Glynis E. N. Salmon, Contributor
Glynis enjoys a happy moment with a friend. - Carlington Wilmot /Freelance Photographer
THE 'BIG' ESCAPE:
I HAD a fantastic week last week... in every out-of-the-ordinary sense of the word.
My friends, listen to this. Last week a friend of mine who dropped out of sight and mind over 20 years ago, saw my Big Escape feature and was determined to catch-up with me. He succeeded. He stepped into my office, grinning from ear-to-ear, arms wide open in an enthusiastic gesture for embrace, and together we hugged-up a most exultant greeting! (Mind you, amidst all the carrying-on, I couldn't help but notice, how his eyes popped open in surprise as his hands spanned the years of growth on my girth).
Finally we released our long-time-no-see, great-to-see-you hug-uppings, and I stepped away, with the certain intention to assume a more dignified, professional, 'show-off' executive pose, seated on my chair around my desk. Well my dears, to my utter astonishment and total bewilderment, I found myself seated not on the chair as my butt had intended, but sprawled out on the floor, legs flung in wild abandon, all angled and askew, striking a somewhat vulgar pose, uncomplimentary to my, or any, centre-spread, and the offending chair, cocked-up, in a most un-executive, over-turned position, up-ended against the wall.
Puppa Jeezas! ...when the full realisation that I had truly fallen down, (drop braps! a dutty) most unceremoniously, hit me; and when I took stock of the fact that it happened in my office, behind my desk, with me wearing, regrettably, a tight skirt, and stuck in a tight spot, with my long-lost friend witnessing the drama ... ashes in the water, ashes in the sea! ... I coulda dead! Anyway, I somehow reached deep within me, and drew on my rich reservoir of pride (in this case 'false pride'), and I eschewed/ did away with, my friend's deeply concerned, (though somewhat ill-concealed, amused) offer of assistance, and, with as much dignity as I could muster, and thankfully, without further mishap in the struggle, heaved my bulk, with awkward style to my feet. Then, with a too-wide smile to mask my pain, I carried on with the conversation as if nothing had happened. Like a brilliant supporting actor, he casually lifted the chair and set it to right again, and proceeded to join me in conversation ... as if indeed, nothing had happened.
The point of all that? Well, my friend came, he saw me, I conquered the fall ... with confidence and agility. Thereby demonstrating, in a truly big way, victory over defeat (or the absence of de feet in an ungracious fall). Fun and joke aside though, me was proud of myself for how I managed the whole thing, physically and psychologically. And thought I would share it with you, to inspire you to a positive response, should you, regrettable though it would be, find yourself in a similar or other situation. After all, I didn't die of embarrassment. See, I lived to tell the tale. (Big-up Tony Lewars, Great to see you. May your memory of the episode be brief).
Then I had another experience (in the same week), not as dramatic as the foregoing, but just as remarkable. I woke up feeling good about myself. The vibes right. My aura strong. And I am spiritually hyped-up to greet the day. I reached into my closet for one of my usual loose-fitting outfits, and my hand brushed against a skirt that once, long ago, used to clasp my waist in a too-tight pinch, and was later, disgustedly, banished to the back of the closet, for stubbornly refusing to clasp my widening waist, no matter how much I sucked-up (my breath) to it. Anyway, I looked at the offending garment with a jaundiced eye, and on a whim decided to slip it on. Well helloooo! Not only did the skirt fit, zipped with ease and clasped effortlessly (without loss of breath), but I was able to stick my finger in the waistband and determined that it was loose by about 2 inches! ... I was so delighted with myself, that I pranced and preened in front of the mirror in a beauty-queen victory parade.
Feeling slim with triumph, I donned a lightweight cotton shirt, and with as much daring as a bungee-jumper, tucked it in my skirt and bagged it over my waist in a blouson effect. Well excuse me ... whether it was state of mind, or truly state of body, I cat-walked off to work, feeling absolutely, gorgeously, model-fine. It was a mental celebration. For it was the first time in ten years, that the self-conscious shame of my ever-growing, (ever hidden behind folds of cloth) mid-protuberance was to be defied, and kept in a somewhat flattened state, (ungirdled if you please), by the restraints of sundry foundation garments.
The real victory and no small achievement, over the last week however, was to find myself, (though contradictory), happy with anxiety, as I grappled with the financial challenges of preparing my beautiful baby girl, Zoya Tafari Salmon Powell (who just turned eighteen, August 1, Emancipation Day), for University. Her success and joy to me is worth every pound I gained leading up to her delivery and lingering (I must confess, self-indulgently), years and years and many more pounds later. I love you baby girl.
Friends, celebrate your fortunes and (missed) fortunes yaah! ... and learn to laugh with yourself. Life is good and much too short.
Love, God, love yourself, love others, be happy. PEACE.
Glynis Salmon is a Publishing Executive and Communication Specialist. You can email her at thebigescape@yahoo.com
