I fell down the stairs
I fell down the stairs, right in front of two boys. Oh, the embarrassment. But you know what I did? I got up, with the help of one of them who stretched out his hand, amid sorrys and “are you okay?”s. I was fine. The only thing that probably took a hit was my ego. I brushed it off and kept going. The next day, I saw the same guys again. I climbed the same stairs, and I’ve climbed them every day since. And no, I haven’t fallen again. Now this isn’t to brag about how sturdy my feet became or how kind those guys were. It’s to remind you of how many times you fell and then refused to go back. See, my feet didn’t become sturdier. I still walk and run on those stairs. What changed was this: I discovered exactly what made me trip. It was my slippers. Did I change them? Yes. Did I stop taking the stairs? No. Because you don’t need to stop trying something just because you failed once. You only need to identify what caused the fall, the failure, the dent. And even though people witnessed t...