The Graceful Art of Falling
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Lynchburg didn’t get much snow, which was good for me. Unfortunately, I didn’t realize how much freezing rain and of course ice, Virginia gets. We didn’t have many winter weather days, classes were only canceled a few times throughout my four year stay. What was frustrating was that classes would be canceled for an inch of snow, but not when the entire campus was a sheet of ice. Ice and I are not friends. When it was bad enough, I would skip class, sometimes just my morning classes until they could get the sidewalks cleared up. I don’t know why I went to class at all on one particular day, maybe I had a test, but I can’t remember my reason for trekking out. I only remember this day because something mortifying happened to me, and at the age of twenty, it may as well have been the end of the world. Our campus had a main section called “the dell.” This was in the center of many of the main buildings and dorms. In the center of the dell was a circle of benches and flowers where all the sidewalks which extended from the buildings met. This convergence of sidewalk was about half way from my dorm to the building I had class in. Not a long walk by any means. It was a small campus. I bundled myself up and put on my winter boots which I didn’t often have to use at school. They were heavy duty boots, my parents wouldn’t have it any other way, they had a thick rubber sole with strong grips meant for walking on ice and snow. I stepped out the front door on the third floor of Tate Hall and noticed that everything was covered in ice. Wonderful!, I thought. It was obvious that someone had made a pretty feeble attempt to throw sand down. I can’t explain my annoyance with places that use sand as a means of melting ice. Sand gives a little bit of traction, but it is quickly washed (or wiped) away after a few people walk through it. Being from New England, I know that the only thing that works on ice is SALT. I started to walk to class. So slowly you would think I was 110 years old. I realized about ten feet from my dorm steps that walking in the grass would be a better idea. Grass doesn’t usually form a solid sheet of ice like sidewalks, so I moved into the grass and continued my slow and steady pace. When I got to the center of the dell I had to cross to the opposite length of sidewalk- there was no way to stay on the grass. I needed to go straight across, and the benches were in a wide circle around the outside. There was nothing for me to hold on to. I paused for a second weighing my options. I decided to go for it.
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About the Book
The Graceful Art of Falling provides an inside look at fifteen years of one woman’s experience with a chronic, progressive muscle disorder. Beginning at age twelve when she was diagnosed, L. White tried to ignore and deny that she was any different than all her friends and that she was afflicted by a degenerative disease. Life in a small town with little diversity meant the smallest difference stood out like a sore thumb, and her difference was not small. Not wanting to be different, she found clever ways to hide her weakness throughout middle school, high school, and even into college, which included Google-Mapping routes to avoid stairs. Only after several years, and when she realized her weaknesses could no longer be ignored, did L. White find the courage to face her disorder, learn to cope, and eventually accept the ongoing changes to her body and her life. This book is a motivational and true account about growing up, struggling to find acceptance, and facing your future when you know exactly what your fate holds. The Graceful Art of Falling shows readers what it’s like to accept what you cannot change and find the strength to keep walking.
About the Author
L. White grew up in a small New England town in the heart of the Green Mountains. Diagnosed at just twelve with a chronic, progressive disease, she has struggled over the years to find acceptance and strength. In April 2011, L. White was moved by a friend to share her experience with muscular dystrophy. She has spent the past two years compiling her most embarrassing, emotional, and personal stories about living with this disease into one book. In writing this book, she realized it was much easier to face her challenges on the day-to-day than to relive them through writing… one right after the other. Reliving these experiences often made her depressed, so Ms. White took several long breaks from the book. Still, since she first committed to sharing her experiences, she has been motivated to finish in hopes that her story would help others experiencing similar challenges. L. White is now twenty-eight years old and lives in New Mexico. She has her master’s degree in public administration and is working at a local nonprofit. It is her dream to work in a position involved in health policy. She continues to attend meditation classes and support groups. She plans to donate a portion of all proceeds from this book to organizations that conduct research and support individuals with muscle disorders. If you would like to contact her about this book, please e-mail: thegracefulartoffalling@gmail.com.