People might wonder: “Why on earth are you keeping a navel diary?”
Well, it’s like this:
Have you ever slipped and fallen on an icy sidewalk? Just walking along, going somewhere, oh hum dee ho, enjoying the day and out of nowhere–BOOM–you’re on the ground. If that’s happened to you, you know the feeling: surprise at how quickly the ground came up to meet you, shock that it happened to you, discomfort from the cold hardness under you, dismay at the thought that someone else may have seen you go down and is now sniggering about it from their vantage point down the block.
That’s exactly what happened to me. I was just strolling through life, going somewhere, oh hum dee ho, having a great time and–BOOM–my navel got old. No more glorious in-ey. It’s an old out-ey now. I didn’t see it coming, this coming of age.
So, I’m sitting on my butt here on this icy patch of older-ness, surprised and shocked, assessing the damage before I try to get to my feet again. I’m not injured, nothing’s broken. I’m just a little stunned, had the wind knocked out of my sails for a minute there. I don’t know if I’ve still got it in me to “scramble” to my feet but I’m getting up. I’m picking myself up and re-gathering my packages. I need everything I’ve brought with me so far, plus a whole new wardrobe of ideas.