I Never Learn

A friend suggested I use a cane. He'd watched me fall flat as a pancake on the sidewalk and witnessed me stumbling over a rocky road. 

So I bought a cane and used it, hoping to offset my balance problem.

The cane seemed particularly useful out of doors. Somehow, with a walking stick in hand, I couldn't help but spot the cracks and curbs ahead of me.

However, walking with a cane felt cumbersome, so I turned to the Internet for help. There I learned how to select which hand to grip my cane and how to coordinate it with one leg.

Then came my meditation group where we sit and meditate for twenty minutes, then walk for ten minutes before we sit again.

During the ten-minute meditation walk, I followed proper cane etiquette. With my cane in my chosen right hand, I tapped it in sequence with my right leg; my left leg struck out alone.  

Tap, step; tap, step, it felt so good, almost like dancing. I really got into it. What fun! The ten minutes soon finished.

But later, I noticed that I'd drubbed my cane so vigorously that I'd injured my right shoulder. Four days later, I'm still wincing.

Unfortunately, I often march wide of the mark. Miscalculation seems to smolder in my brain, ever eager to influence my decisions.