Looking towards the mainland of Greece from Agiokampos on the island of Evia.
Sometimes we need reminders about thankfulness, patience, and the role that luck and good fortune play in the blessings in our lives. In fact, it's been my experience in life that whenever I get a swelled head or feel overly pleased with myself about something, I pay a price for my arrogance.
I call it karma. Sometimes it can bite us hard when we forget ourselves, and sometimes it just offers a gentle - or not so gentle - reminder in unusual and unexpected ways .
That's exactly what happened to me recently on a trip to visit family in Greece.
I call it karma. Sometimes it can bite us hard when we forget ourselves, and sometimes it just offers a gentle - or not so gentle - reminder in unusual and unexpected ways .
That's exactly what happened to me recently on a trip to visit family in Greece.
A taverna in Edipsos on the island of Evia where we enjoyed a delicious meal of traditional homestyle Greek cooking.
Let me start by saying that I do believe very much in the practice of daily gratitude, focusing on the positive every day, and counting my blessings. They are many. And not least among them are my excellent mobility, good health and fitness.
The truth is that in this regard - as in so many others - I owe a great deal to my parents and to the example they set and the genes that they passed on to me. They both remained very fit and active until very late in their lives.
And as I’ve often stated in my blogs, Mom helped us enormously by setting us on the path to good nutrition from early childhood. It’s an established fact, after all, that our health in later years reflects to a large degree our diet during our growing years.
Which is good, because, let me tell you, I’ve been no saint when it comes to my eating choices.
First of all, I eat way more than I should.
The truth is that in this regard - as in so many others - I owe a great deal to my parents and to the example they set and the genes that they passed on to me. They both remained very fit and active until very late in their lives.
And as I’ve often stated in my blogs, Mom helped us enormously by setting us on the path to good nutrition from early childhood. It’s an established fact, after all, that our health in later years reflects to a large degree our diet during our growing years.
Which is good, because, let me tell you, I’ve been no saint when it comes to my eating choices.
First of all, I eat way more than I should.
An appetizer of Greek salad, hummus and fresh, warm bread
In fact, that is why I’m not thin, even as active as I am. Truth be told, I should probably actually be fat, given the large quantities of food I consume. Thanks to Mom’s training, I do focus on eating mostly vegetables, but the bottom line is I consume way more calories than is really good for me.
This is even more so because, despite my image as a health food nut among my friends and the youth I mentor, I’m actually a closet junk food junkie. In fact, it's so bad that I avoid having sugary snacks and desserts in the house at all because I will eat it all in one sitting, given half the chance.
While my discipline in that regard has improved somewhat over the years, that’s not saying much, since I had zero self control when I was younger. It’s only been after (literally) decades of fighting myself on this that I’ve figured out how to deal with my own weakness when it comes to sweets and other not-so-good-for-me foods.
So what's my point in all this? I mention it to offer some background and to illustrate how much I owe to happy chance when it comes to my own good fortune in health and fitness.
And I am keenly aware of that. And humbly grateful for it.
At least I am most of the time.
This is even more so because, despite my image as a health food nut among my friends and the youth I mentor, I’m actually a closet junk food junkie. In fact, it's so bad that I avoid having sugary snacks and desserts in the house at all because I will eat it all in one sitting, given half the chance.
While my discipline in that regard has improved somewhat over the years, that’s not saying much, since I had zero self control when I was younger. It’s only been after (literally) decades of fighting myself on this that I’ve figured out how to deal with my own weakness when it comes to sweets and other not-so-good-for-me foods.
So what's my point in all this? I mention it to offer some background and to illustrate how much I owe to happy chance when it comes to my own good fortune in health and fitness.
And I am keenly aware of that. And humbly grateful for it.
At least I am most of the time.
An archway leading into the restaurant on Evia
But not always, unfortunately. Sometimes I forget. And it's not pretty when that happens.
There was just such an episode on this trip. For a brief moment I let complacency - and even contempt - slip into my attitude, and karma quickly stepped in to slap me back to reality.
It happened on a ferry crossing from the island of Evia (Euboea) to the mainland.
There was just such an episode on this trip. For a brief moment I let complacency - and even contempt - slip into my attitude, and karma quickly stepped in to slap me back to reality.
It happened on a ferry crossing from the island of Evia (Euboea) to the mainland.
It was a lovely day spent driving with my husband, and brother- and sister-in-law across the rugged mountains of Evia, stopping in the seaside village of Rovies to visit with friends, and enjoying a taverna dinner of wonderful, homestyle Greek vegetarian food in Edipsos before heading to the ferry port of Agiokampos.
There we enjoyed a walk among the quiet back lanes and olive orchards of the village before boarding the ferry for Glyfa.
The crossing lasts about a half hour. Passengers enjoy the short journey and the views from the lounge and open decks on two levels, accessible by narrow metal stairways from the car deck.
It was a pleasant, uneventful crossing that offered beautiful vistas on both sides as we traversed the narrow strait between the island and the mainland. As we approached the harbor of Glyfa, my husband went ahead to the car, and we followed behind.
There we enjoyed a walk among the quiet back lanes and olive orchards of the village before boarding the ferry for Glyfa.
The crossing lasts about a half hour. Passengers enjoy the short journey and the views from the lounge and open decks on two levels, accessible by narrow metal stairways from the car deck.
It was a pleasant, uneventful crossing that offered beautiful vistas on both sides as we traversed the narrow strait between the island and the mainland. As we approached the harbor of Glyfa, my husband went ahead to the car, and we followed behind.
The ferry from Glyfa approached the dock in Agiokampos.
With many passengers converging on them all at once, the stairs to the lower decks became a bottleneck. This was particularly the case with the many elderly and less physically able people on board who were returning from the hot spring spas on Evia. They had difficulty maneuvering the steep steps, so the back-up extended all the way up to the 2nd level.
I was stuck in the middle, and for a while the line did not move at all.
As is my unlovely tendency in situations like this, I became impatient. Worse, though, unkind thoughts crossed my mind about these old people and their cautious and slow behavior. Rude thoughts that would have made my mother very unhappy with me, indeed.
I’m not sure what my all-fired hurry was, mind you. Even if we had missed getting into the car before my husband drove it off the boat, the port was tiny, so it would not have been a problem to walk off and join him on land.
But there I was, rolling my eyes at the people taking their time on the stairs and being extra careful around the big trucks and buses parked at the bottom. All I could think of was how out of shape and timid they were being.
Generous and thoughtful, I was not. At.All. But that's okay, because I was soon to pay for my arrogance.
I was stuck in the middle, and for a while the line did not move at all.
As is my unlovely tendency in situations like this, I became impatient. Worse, though, unkind thoughts crossed my mind about these old people and their cautious and slow behavior. Rude thoughts that would have made my mother very unhappy with me, indeed.
I’m not sure what my all-fired hurry was, mind you. Even if we had missed getting into the car before my husband drove it off the boat, the port was tiny, so it would not have been a problem to walk off and join him on land.
But there I was, rolling my eyes at the people taking their time on the stairs and being extra careful around the big trucks and buses parked at the bottom. All I could think of was how out of shape and timid they were being.
Generous and thoughtful, I was not. At.All. But that's okay, because I was soon to pay for my arrogance.
Cars ready to disembark on landing in Agiokampos.
Tired of being stuck in foot traffic, I decided to take matters into my own hands, and get a move on by myself. I assertively moved past everyone. I will say that at least I was courteous - I didn't forget Mom's and Dad's upbringing entirely - and used my best Greek to say excuse me as I passed the other passengers on the right. But my attitude was far from what it should have been.
People yielded graciously to my requests to pass, and I reached the bottom of the stairs in no time. I then turned sharply and purposefully to go to our car that was parked in the middle, some way behind the larger vehicles.
But what I did not notice in my snotty haste were some raised manhole-type structures on the floor of the boat. As a result of this oversight - undoubtedly caused by my nose being so far in the air that I couldn't see them - I failed to pick up my feet properly.
And I tripped.
Spectacularly.
People yielded graciously to my requests to pass, and I reached the bottom of the stairs in no time. I then turned sharply and purposefully to go to our car that was parked in the middle, some way behind the larger vehicles.
But what I did not notice in my snotty haste were some raised manhole-type structures on the floor of the boat. As a result of this oversight - undoubtedly caused by my nose being so far in the air that I couldn't see them - I failed to pick up my feet properly.
And I tripped.
Spectacularly.
I can only imagine what it was like to watch as I fought hard to stay on my feet. But it was useless, and I simply could not save myself. Even from a walking speed and ground level, my forward motion had me plunging with considerable momentum headfirst towards the rough metal decking.
I hit the floor with great force, only saving my face and head from catastrophic contact with the steel surface by reaching out with my free right hand at the very last moment to catch myself.
I felt my wrist rotate sharply and my fingers bend straight back and way beyond the point of pain as they took the full brunt of my not insignificant weight.
They cracked as they twisted underneath me and broke my fall, so that instead of landing flat on my face I ended up rolling onto my side and shoulder and performing a very clumsy and graceless half-somersault onto my back.
And there I sprawled for a stunned, brief moment, in full view of a dozen truck drivers and two upper decks of exiting passengers, who now were staring down at me, gasping and exclaiming in horror.
The first thought to cross my mind was that I had just given a very literal and very public demonstration of the expression “hit the deck” and of the old adage “pride goeth before a fall”. A two in one, so to speak.
I hit the floor with great force, only saving my face and head from catastrophic contact with the steel surface by reaching out with my free right hand at the very last moment to catch myself.
I felt my wrist rotate sharply and my fingers bend straight back and way beyond the point of pain as they took the full brunt of my not insignificant weight.
They cracked as they twisted underneath me and broke my fall, so that instead of landing flat on my face I ended up rolling onto my side and shoulder and performing a very clumsy and graceless half-somersault onto my back.
And there I sprawled for a stunned, brief moment, in full view of a dozen truck drivers and two upper decks of exiting passengers, who now were staring down at me, gasping and exclaiming in horror.
The first thought to cross my mind was that I had just given a very literal and very public demonstration of the expression “hit the deck” and of the old adage “pride goeth before a fall”. A two in one, so to speak.
The ferry approaching the port of Glyfa in Greece across from Agiocampos on the island of Evia
Two elderly women, dressed in black – some of the very same women who just moments before I had undoubtedly been rolling my eyes at for being just "too old" - rushed over to me, murmuring with shock and kind concern. Somehow, despite being small and quite frail in appearance, they managed to pull me to my feet.
I immediately looked down at my hand. It hurt. Quite a lot.
Carefully, I tried to rotate my wrist and wiggle my fingers. They worked, albeit very stiffly and painfully. Miraculously, it did not appear that anything was broken. Sprained or wrenched, yes, but not broken.
Except my pride, that is. That was in tatters.
By this time, I was surrounded by several alarmed older ladies and men, and people from above were calling out advice and questions. I heard my sister-in-law's panic-stricken voice in the mix.
My embarrassment at the scene I had created was complete.
In hindsight, I can laugh about the situation, but in the moment I was just utterly mortified. And I deserved every bit of discomfort I felt.
I immediately looked down at my hand. It hurt. Quite a lot.
Carefully, I tried to rotate my wrist and wiggle my fingers. They worked, albeit very stiffly and painfully. Miraculously, it did not appear that anything was broken. Sprained or wrenched, yes, but not broken.
Except my pride, that is. That was in tatters.
By this time, I was surrounded by several alarmed older ladies and men, and people from above were calling out advice and questions. I heard my sister-in-law's panic-stricken voice in the mix.
My embarrassment at the scene I had created was complete.
In hindsight, I can laugh about the situation, but in the moment I was just utterly mortified. And I deserved every bit of discomfort I felt.
One of the ladies tried to lead me to the side away from the vehicles that were now starting to drive off the boat.
I gently clasped her hand and mouthed the words “I’m okay” to be understood despite the din of the truck and van motors. ‘Okay’ is a universal word that just about everyone understands in most parts of the world, I’ve discovered, even if you cannot communicate much beyond that.
She looked at me, unconvinced, until I repeated the words. She then reluctantly let me go, and I thanked her before turning to make my way – gingerly, this time - to my car. Past amused looking truck drivers who had clearly enjoyed the spectacle I had made and under the anxious gaze of what seemed to be the entire passenger roster of the boat.
My husband met me halfway to the car. He had also seen the whole thing and was terrified that I was seriously hurt, given the impact of the fall.
But I was almost completely uninjured, suffering only some swelling, stiffness, and pain in my wrist and hand that mostly worked itself out by the end of our trip. Apparently, because of those genes I was talking about earlier, I have good health and good bones that enable me to bounce and flex when I fall.
I’m lucky that way. The same way I'm extremely lucky in my overall genetic make-up, the health-minded mothering of my childhood, and my overall good mobility. In other words, they're all things I should be eternally and humbly thankful for instead of arrogantly assuming it's my due, that I had anything to do with it, or that I have the right to be impatient or contemptuous of others who are not so fortunate.
Karma can be a bitch, for sure, but she went easy on me this time. It could have been so much worse.
Here's hoping I've registered the message and won't need any more such reminders again any time soon.
I gently clasped her hand and mouthed the words “I’m okay” to be understood despite the din of the truck and van motors. ‘Okay’ is a universal word that just about everyone understands in most parts of the world, I’ve discovered, even if you cannot communicate much beyond that.
She looked at me, unconvinced, until I repeated the words. She then reluctantly let me go, and I thanked her before turning to make my way – gingerly, this time - to my car. Past amused looking truck drivers who had clearly enjoyed the spectacle I had made and under the anxious gaze of what seemed to be the entire passenger roster of the boat.
My husband met me halfway to the car. He had also seen the whole thing and was terrified that I was seriously hurt, given the impact of the fall.
But I was almost completely uninjured, suffering only some swelling, stiffness, and pain in my wrist and hand that mostly worked itself out by the end of our trip. Apparently, because of those genes I was talking about earlier, I have good health and good bones that enable me to bounce and flex when I fall.
I’m lucky that way. The same way I'm extremely lucky in my overall genetic make-up, the health-minded mothering of my childhood, and my overall good mobility. In other words, they're all things I should be eternally and humbly thankful for instead of arrogantly assuming it's my due, that I had anything to do with it, or that I have the right to be impatient or contemptuous of others who are not so fortunate.
Karma can be a bitch, for sure, but she went easy on me this time. It could have been so much worse.
Here's hoping I've registered the message and won't need any more such reminders again any time soon.
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