Isn't it funny how life throws you a curve ball, right when you least expect it, and you don't have your wits about you to know whether you should catch it or duck?
Here I am, minding my own business, when BAM!
I neither caught it nor ducked.
I just stood there and allowed the curve ball to hit me.
I thought I was already way past these curve-ball phases in life.
I keep telling myself, curve ball after curve ball, that that was the last one EVER to catch me unaware. Next time, I say, I'll be alive, awake, and alert enough to see these curve balls coming. I'll prepare myself with a bat to hit that curve ball out to center field, or a mitt to catch it on the fly, or a helmet so I can protect myself from being hit where it hurts.
But apparently, as the universe would have it, these curve-ball life phases can neither be outgrown nor avoided. And they can never be predicted.
Each and every single time, I get hit.
For some reason, I am neither awake nor alert, and I have no idea where my bat, mitt or helmet was at that instant when that curve ball hits me.
I'm just always left to ice away my bruises and recuperate from the aftermath of the trauma that is getting hit by the curve ball of life.
And all is well again. Until the next curve ball hits.
And I realize: I may not always have my bat, mitt, nor helmet ready. But it seems I know exactly how to find my ice bag to help relieve my bruises. I know where to lie down so my head won't spin so much. I know exactly which cabinet to look in to get my pain medications.
I know how to recover. Without even thinking about it.
And so it goes.
Life throws you curve balls. But only if you know how to play the game.
Don't want to get hit? Sit the inning out and watch the game from the dugout.
But you're sure to miss out on a LOT.