The random musings of an autistic bridgetender with entirely too much time on her hands.
Beneath My Feet and above My Head
My plane of existence is very much horizontal.
My plane of existence is very much horizontal. I spend a lot more time thinking about what’s in front of me and behind me and, if I’m really feeling wild, to either side of me, than I do thinking about what’s beneath my feet or above my head.
Yes, I do gaze at the stars, but that’s only at night. And I do love a good cloud formation. But for the most part, I take these things for granted. I wonder how many shooting stars I haven’t seen, simply for lack of looking up.
I also wonder how many caves I’ve walked over without knowing it. How many innocent bugs have been crushed beneath my feet? How many moles have stuck their blind little heads out, sensed me, and beat a hasty retreat? How many unmarked graves have I trod upon?
I’ve certainly tripped and/or bumped my head often enough to where you’d think I’d have learned my lesson. Situational awareness is much more important than my actions would have you believe. I could be hit by a meteor far more easily than I could be run down by a crosstown bus. I totally get how someone might fall down a manhole.
Here I am, living in a three dimensional world, opening drawbridges for a living, and yet I still somehow manage to neglect the ups and the downs of my life. I wonder why. I’d almost rather think of myself as a total flake than to give in to the concept that my eyes face forward and therefore that’s the direction I usually look.