Maybe you should come to Perth and learn to live a quiet life and learn that you are no longer the centre of things, my sister said.

My term as president of AWARE was over and the trauma of the take over by a group of women who had a different goal for the organaisation was behind me. I  suffered from withdrawl symptoms for a while- from being intensely busy and preoccupied to  nothing to do. Most mornings I happily stayed in bed reading, with no feeling of rush to meet a deadline or a meeting. It was good to be able to do that. But there were days too of feeling unwanted and neglected. Hence my sister’s suggestion to go over to Perth.

I was having none of that. I was determined to stay right where I am and deal with my current reality and figure out what to do next. And yesterday morning I thought that I had figured it out. I was ready to make myself a schedule, of writing, reading,  exploring research opportunities, gym and socialising so that I don’t spend the day just daydreaming and reading and pottering around the house.

I went off to see a movie first though before I started working on a schedule. And what happened? I rushed out of the Dobhy Ghaut MRT station and on to the atrium in front of Plaza Singapura, missed a step and fell flat on the concrete floor, on my face. Everything happened so quickly. Before I could even figure  out what had happened a number of people came to my aid and helped me up. By the time i was helped up my left ankle had grown to the size of a tennis ball, my glasses had broken in the fall; I had hurt my right knee, my right shoulders and my left wrist.

I was angry with myself for not looking where I was going. But what surprised me was that I was relaxed, in a bit of shock I am sure, but felt no sense of embarrassment that I had fallen flat on my face in front a great number of people. It must have to do with the fact that as you age very few things cause embarrassment. And i told my sister “Well”, I said, ” I did it again. I was in the centre of things’!!

But then sitting here, propped up against a cushion, with my swollen foot raised, I am wondering what the universe was trying to tell me just when I was ready to take off and do something constructive with my life after a five-month haitus.

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