Getting Perspective via Office Equipment and Floor Coverings...

Every once in awhile there's a change in my life.  The older I get the less I really look forward to change.  I'm liking the routine. But sometimes change shows up.

Quick, surprising, and very kinetic change.

Change changes my perspective...which isn't necessarily bad, but it can be a bit disorientating.

Change of perspective means change of view which means change of position which means movement on my part.  And sometimes these movements are quick, surprising, and very kinetic..

Sudden movements aren't as much fun as they used to be.

My perspective changed while at work the other day. There were three things that brought about this change.  A scrap of paper.  A chair with rollers.  And gravity.

Stupid change.

I noticed a solitary scrap of paper under the desk by the computer tower.  It looked lonely, longing for its friends in the wastebasket.

Rolling the chair backwards and groaning like a wildebeest giving birth, I tried to grab the errant scrap while seated.  I was leaning forward, doubled over, and turning red.  I stretched just a bit further, moving ever-so-slightly forward on the chair seat.

And that's when it happened.

My frictional co-efficient decreased with the forward shift, thereby decreasing the adhesion of "my" seat to "the" seat, thereby enhancing the chair's ability for horizontal mobility in an opposite-and-not-even-close-to-equal reaction.

The chair shot out from under my pants, leaving me hanging.

For about a millisecond.

My co-workers felt the impact immediately.  Some got under their desks while others sat down in doorways.

I laid out in the open, mentally checking favorite body parts as little swirly fireworks slowly dissipated to the edges of sight.

Once my fellow employees realized there were no aftershocks, they came looking for the epicenter.  They gathered around my prone figure.

"Hey, Den - you OK?"

"Yeah."

"Ya wanna get up."

"No. Not yet. Thanks."

"OK."

They all left.  I laid there watching their shoes and socks disappear.  A realization hit me as I watched a final pair of argyle socks walk away in brown loafers.

I had been locked into that whole "comfortably-sitting" perspective.  I really liked that position.  Very comfortable.  Safe.

And this new position?  Not liking it as much.

But in this new position, I can look up -  with no problem at all.

Yeah.  That whole "hit rock-bottom, nowhere to look." thing.

I laid there for a bit, feeling likea beached beluga waiting for high tide.

And I had to smile.

He is always there during my rocketing ascents or my meteoric crashes, but I don't notice His presence until after that sudden, jarring thud.  And the little swirly fireworks.

Crashing and thudding.  Heckuva view-changer.  And a rather effective perspective-maker.  And I'm gonna learn from this experience.

I'll pay closer attention to what He says and what He wants me to do from here on out.  And see if I can avoid these sudden "drop'n'stops".

 Yeah.  I'm gonna do that.

Once the little swirly fireworks go away.