Looking back....on the end of a season.

    I love the autumn. I always have, and I always will. I love everything about it. I love how the long, hot, summer days transition into the short, cool days of fall. The days are shorter, but so much brighter and more beautiful. It's almost magical watching the trees slowly change their deep green leaves to  vibrant yellow, gold, scarlet and orange. I love watching the pumpkins and corn stalks appear, and seeing the fall festivals in full swing. It's harvest time. A time to reap the final rewards of the end of a season of growing.

    After the heat of summer, fall feels like a glorious relief; a time of renewal, of new beginnings rather than endings. Of looking back on a year gone by as we put on heavier clothes, close our windows against the cold nights, snuggle in and prepare for a long winter even as we watch the beautiful colors unfold in nature's kaleidoscope. With each leaf that falls, I always have a sense of joy and peace, as that one leaf goes out in a blaze of glory, with grace and dignity. The leaves pile up on the ground for the gentle breezes to lift them into their last graceful dance until they come to their final resting place, and wait for the snow and ice of winter. I love autumn.

    Last year I had the opportunity to spend the entire autumn in Western Pennsylvania. I was able to witness the end of another season. I lived in my childhood home, watching the trees turn their brilliant colors, the leaves fall, the acorns litter the ground and the days grow shorter and colder. I watched as the Halloween decorations went up. And came down. I watched as the Thanksgiving decorations went up. And came down. I took long walks in the woods and around the neighborhood where I grew up, marveling at the colors and the slow change of season as late summer turned to one of the most beautiful autumns I have ever experienced. I was there for the season's end, and felt the bitter cold, snow and ice of winter descend upon us.

    Both of my parents died last fall, in the autumn, the season that I love so much. As heartbreaking as it was, the truth is that this was one final gift from my parents to me; that I could enjoy one last autumn with them. I watched as their season ended, as their days became shorter and fewer, and how they came to their final resting place with grace and dignity. Their strong will, spirit and irrepressible humor never faltered during the end of their season. The strength that they displayed in the final months of their lives was very touching, endearing and inspiring. They fought for each other as they battled the end stage of the same disease together.

     As their adult child, you think you know your parents and the dynamics of their relationship. However, it was incredibly revealing and humbling to witness the level of intimacy between two people who have spent over 60 years of their lives together. I was deeply moved to witness many private moments between them, experiences that I have shared with no one else, respecting their privacy to the very end. They knew they were both dying, but still shared an appreciation for each other and the life that they built together.

    There have been so many gifts and blessings that have come from this final autumn in the lives of my parents and the time that I was blessed to spend with them and my sisters in their last days.The end of a season is no less lovely than it's the beginning. The sun setting is no less beautiful than the sun rising. In some ways, it is even more beautiful as we celebrate two lives well lived, two people who loved each other unconditionally, and who certainly lived life to the fullest!
     
    Looking back, when I come to the autumn of my life, I can only hope that I can approach it with the same degree of grace, dignity and quiet pride that my parents did. I want to fall like an autumn leaf, in a blaze of color,taking my last graceful dance to my final resting place. I hope to have the peace that comes from knowing that my work here is done, and that I have served my purpose well.

    It is also my wish for you.

George and Mara

Be healthy, and live well!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

From fear of falling to fearless falling.

    Most of us are afraid of falling, especially as we get older. Why is that? Of course, we don't want to get hurt, and many of us either know someone or have heard of someone falling and experiencing long term injuries. But it doesn't have to be that way.

    As babies and small children, we lived, played and crawled on the floor. As we grew, we continued to frequently get down on the floor. The occasional spills we experienced were no big deal, and we would bounce back up and be off on our next adventure. But as adults, we keep ourselves upright. We stand, walk, sit in chairs and lose our intimate relationship with the ground. As a result, we develop a fear and distrust of the ground, of our ability to fall safely (yes, there is such a thing) and gracefully get back up.

    My last hiking trip to the mountains included maneuvering through glacier fields. It was a challenge going up, and in the back of my mind I was a little concerned about the trip down, knowing that it would be a slippery descent. I, myself, have never been a huge fan of falling and used to avoid it at all costs. Oh, well. I was already pretty far up the trail, so I knew I would have to figure a way to get down.

    It was interesting to observe some of the other hikers and the strategies that they were choosing to get down the mountain. One group of teenagers took a running start and then slid down the glaciers as if they were skiing on their sneakers. An interesting technique, considering the huge rocks, large trees, sharp drops into the canyon as well as the fact that most of them were carrying large, pointed sticks for balance. I envisioned a few trips to the ER.

    One woman chose to walk behind her husband, holding onto his waist for support. She was bent forward with her center of gravity behind her base of support, staring at the ground, tentatively and cautiously placing her foot on the snow with each shaky step.  I watched her fall twice, once with her husband hanging on to her arm. I was more concerned about him dislocating her shoulder as he tried to "help" her than her injuring herself with the fall. Another family had 2 small girls that looked terrified as their Dad tied a rope around their waists. Yikes! What if Dad was the one to fall and take the little ones down with him?

    Without even thinking, I found my strategy. I set my weight down into my pelvis, lowered my center of gravity directly over my base of support, kept my upper body flexible and shifted my weight side to side. I quickly and confidently scampered down the mountain. Even if I did fall, I intuitively knew that I would not get hurt. My center of gravity was so low and close to the ground that I didn't have far to fall. Of course, I have the advantage of having studied a martial art where we learn how to fall. I also have the advantage of spending a great deal of time on the floor with my Feldenkrais practice. As a result, I am no longer afraid of falling, and am able to trust my instincts to know how to land without getting hurt.

    The physical therapist, Feldenkrais practitioner, teacher and ultimate caretaker in me was tempted to teach the other hikers how to safely get down the mountain. But the truth is, we all fall; literally and figuratively. Life often pulls the rug out from underneath us and we go tumbling down. It's up to each one of us to develop a strategy that not only allows us to fall safely, but also to be able to get back up again. We can hold onto someone else, and hope that they can support us as we fall, without causing more damage than the actual fall itself. We can tie ourselves to someone else, and hope that they themselves don't fall and take us crashing down with them. We can throw ourselves down a slippery slope littered with dangerous obstacles and hope for the best, and that somehow we will survive.  Or, we can figure out a safe way to fall, take care of ourselves, and get back up again.

    Recently someone asked me "Who catches you when you fall?" My answer was immediate and honest: "No one. I learned how to fall so I don't get hurt".

Be Healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP