There’s a funny thing about the floor.
You don’t think much about being able to get down there until you start wondering whether you’re going to be able to get back up.
Maybe you want to play with your grandkids.
Maybe you want to get down there with the dog.
Maybe there’s a stretch you want to do that just works better on the floor.
Or maybe something rolled under the damn couch.
Being able to get down on the floor and get back up is one of those ordinary abilities that turns out to be a much bigger deal than you thought.
Peggy said something when we were talking about this that pretty much nails it.
It’s like being able to reach your arms overhead and get something off the top shelf.
You don’t ever want to lose that ability.
The longer you can keep doing these ordinary things, the longer you have freedom.
The longer you can run your own life.
So when somebody tells Peggy or me, “I’m having trouble getting up from the floor,” we don’t immediately tell them they need stronger legs.
First we ask them what’s happening.
Then, if they can safely do it, we ask them to show us.
How are you actually getting down there—and how are you trying to get back up?
That’s usually where we start.
