Be like a Bumble, and Bounce off of Rock Bottom

Once, when I was 15, I careened off the edge of a waterfall.

I don’t remember much about those brief few seconds when the algae covered rocks got tired of me trampling on them and decided to dump my cocky ass over a 30 foot drop. What I do remember is clawing at the slick rock so hard that my finger nails peeled back into raw stubs.

As my body was ejected over the edge, there was a hot second where I felt like I was flying. My mind raced to my little sister, whom was by my side (albeit on the shoreline of the river away from the waterfall, as she told me I was an idiot) and I hoped that she had learned from my mistake.

Flash forward 10 years and at 25 I was doing the same damn thing. I was airheadedly walking on slippery rocks in my business and marriage, not paying a lick of attention to what I was doing. I was at the leading edge of the Etsy revolution and was on the bus early in 2008, at one point I was making over $2,000 a week selling peacock feathers on Etsy. I married someone too quickly, hoping that the spontaneity would make up for the shortcomings.

And then I slipped.

Within a year of my financial and business pinnacle I had been evicted, my car was repo’ed, I was divorced and bankrupt. I did what ever millennial does and I moved back in with my ever loving parents.

When I hit rock bottom when I was 15, it really hurt. The waterfall I slipped off of wasn’t a rushing river, but rather a babbling brook, so the water that had collected under the waterfall was comparable to a puddle. When I hit, there was about an inch of water to cushion my fall, and I thank Mother Nature everyday for it.

As I laid there, staring up at the sky, I had assumed I was paralyzed. I didn’t scream or cry, I just laid there and studied the canopy of trees, and was telling myself how much of a dumb ass I was for taking such a stupid risk. The only reason I had decided to cross the stream was that I saw my favorite flower growing on the opposite bank, a cardinal flower. My sister had said I was an idiot, that there would be other flowers. I told her no, it was rare and I had to get closer.

When I moved back in with my parent’s at 25 I suddenly became an alcoholic like all good millenials do when they realize their liberal arts degree is just really expensive toilet paper. I drank wine for breakfast, lunch, dinner and snacks.

I got a job cold calling people, begging them to get an oil change at a local dealership for minimum wage, which in Ohio is $8 an hour. It was enough to keep my cheap wine habit afloat.

As I gazed up into the water splattering over the edge of the waterfall I heard a voice.

“Someone fell off the waterfall, Girl Scouts, let’s use our first aid skills!”

What this hell? Was I actually dead? Within seconds I was surrounded by a pack of preteens. They enclosed around me, their pack mother eyeballing me carefully, like a deer she just sideswiped with her minivan.

“Can you speak?”

“Yes,” I glanced sideways at the girl closest to me. Her idyllic braided piggy tails somehow reminding me of purgatory.

“Can you move?”

“I…I…don’t think so.”

“Try,” the piggy tailed girl told me. “Try to move your toes.”

I realized I was cold, as the mountain water had soaked through my clothes and had filled my shoes. I closed my eyes and concentrated on my toes.

“Yes! I can wiggle them!” I yelled out like a 4 year old that just discovered they had toes.

“Now your fingers,” she instructed.

I noticed a stinging in my fingers tips, and flexed my palm. Blood trickled over my knuckles. I felt alive again, I rolled over and stood up. The pack mother put a hand on my shoulder, “You are lucky”.

My sister soon appeared, and then my mom, dad and brother arrived too. They all seemed quite confused by the scene unfolding in front of them.

“Is something wrong here?” My dad asked, and scanned the group of girl scouts and the leader, me with bloody hands, and dripping wet. To an outsider I’m sure the scene looked like Kickass meets Fight Club.

“Everything is under control,” pigtails replied. I began to wonder if she was actually the pack leader.

I told my family the whole story, and my sister chimed in with a well timed “you’re an idiot”.

As I sat on the couch, sipping a coffee mug full of Boone’s Farm, my sister joined me with a lovely morning greeting.

“You’re an idiot”.

I cocked my head, partially offended, but mostly curious, “Why?”

“All you have to do is try.”

I stared down into the delicious sloshing of my dollar store wine, “What do you mean, try what?”

“Anything. Right now, you are trying nothing.”

I sat the mug down, “I am trying, but you have to understand, in the last year I have lost everything.”

She looked at me, no emotion on her face, “So you are just going to sit on Mom and Dad’s couch being drunk for the rest of your life?”

I was silent. My little sister was much wiser than I had realized and she was calling me out.

“Do you remember the time you fell off of a waterfall?” my sister asked.

“Of course. It was horrible, I thought I was going to die”.

“But did you?”

The question poked at my innards. I felt my stomach tighten a bit.

“Remember that show, Rudolph?” my sister, Laura asked me.

“You mean the Christmas special claymation one?”

“Yes! That one. Remember the part where Yukon Cornelious fights the Abominable Snow Monster and falls off the cliff and everyone thinks he died?”

I smiled, we had watched the show together for years every holiday season, I replied, “Bumbles bounce!”

“See, you will be just fine,” Laura smiled for the first time during the entire conversation.

My sister’s words were what I needed to get in gear. I was promoted at my job within a month and was able to move out of my parents’ house within a half year. I started dabbling in a few different businesses again. All I did was try.

Life happens, sometimes we get distracted by pretty flowers, peacock feathers and societal expectations. The next time I lose my footing and start free falling into the unknown I will welcome the bottom.

And the bounce back.