Falling Into the Future

illustration: Kiersten Essenpreis/WSJ

Last spring I tripped over a garden hose and fell face forward onto the dirt. I thrust out my arms protectively and luckily wound up only with a scraped elbow. I am now extra mindful to concentrate on walking and keeping distractions like my phone at bay. I haven't fallen since.

Falling by the elderly has become an epidemic.

More than 1 in 4 people over age 65 fall each year...Every year, falls among older Americans result in about 3.6 million emergency room visits and 1.2 million hospital stays, at a cost of roughly $80 billion. Nationwide, 41,000 senior citizens die from falls annually, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. In recent years, prominent figures such as comedian Bob Saget, former Connecticut Sen. Joe Lieberman and Ivana Trump died after a fall...

Nationally, the death rate from falls jumped 41% from 2012 to 2022, the latest period for which statistics are available. Among seniors, the contributing factors for falls are frustratingly complex. Reaction to prescription drugs, impaired vision and even such basic things as loneliness or ill-fitting shoes often add to the risk of falling.

“There has also been research on dual tasks, like doing more than one thing at a time,” [Arkansas prof. Jennifer] Vincenzo notes. “It’s hard for you to focus on movement if you’re focusing on doing another task, talking on the phone or texting, so that if you have impaired balance or walking problems, you’re not going to pay attention to that and potentially fall.”

My parents fortunately suffered only minor injuries from falls at home. Being unable to get up by themselves, even with the help of their spouse, eventually prompted their move to assisted living.

I hope that I am years away from having to follow in their missteps, but the tumble that I took in the spring showed that it-will-never-happen-to-me is an attitude I no longer can afford to have.

And How Did That Make You Feel?

(Sleepstation image)

To the list of tips for falling asleep (turn off screens, avoid stimulating entertainment, don't exercise before bed, etc.) sleep specialists have added savoring: [bold added]

Savoring is well-studied as a strategy to improve our general well-being. A considerable body of research shows that it can boost mood and help reduce depression and anxiety. Now, psychologists believe it can help us fall asleep and have better sleep quality, and are starting to study its effectiveness.

Many of us ruminate as we’re trying to drift off. This is where savoring can help. “It gives your brain something else to focus on—something emotionally compelling and pleasurable,” says Dana McMakin, a professor of psychology at Florida International University, who studies savoring.

Savoring differs from other strategies you may use before going to sleep. When you savor, you try to re-create the positive emotional state of the experience. It’s not the same as practicing gratitude, which involves thinking about something rather than trying to feel it. And it’s different from meditating or trying to be mindful, in which the goal is to quiet your mind. Savoring aims to fill it up with positive emotion.

One has to be selective in the positive memories one dredges up: memories from childhood with people who are long gone can turn sad; moments of triumph and vindication can be exhilarating...and stimulative; and of course, recalling savoring's original gustatory meaning, reliving pleasant dining experiences can make one hungry, not sleepy.

Come to think of it (or not), to get to sleep I'll just stick with emptying my mind, not filling it with thoughts, however pleasant they may be.

Life is But a Stream

The youth minister's office is also the streaming hub.

After "attending" church for over a year via YouTube, I must confess that I like watching services from home:

I don't have to get dressed up.

I can eat and drink. Sipping a cuppa joe while listening to the sermon is both stimulating and relaxing, if that makes any sense.

I don't have to worry about decorum and can go to the bathroom without "holding it", if you know what I mean.

I can stand, wave my arms, and do stretching and breathing exercises. You can't do that in an Episcopal church; we're not Pentecostals!

All that said, I've been going to in-person services since they resumed three weeks ago. It seems almost a novelty to be with people and take Communion, but the largest benefit to me has been the re-imposition of mindfulness. The cellphone is off, and I must focus on what is going on in the moment.

Park Avenue Synagogue member Allan Ripp agrees:

During remote services the distractions are constant, like working from home. Only instead of zoning out on a client while putting on my socks, I miss the benediction for the state of Israel. There’s also the temptation to multitask—is it a sin to empty the dishwasher while singing the Aleinu? Or to google the parents of the bat mitzvah girl? Most diverting are on-screen glimpses into congregants’ homes. I’m joining the nice couple chanting Bar’chu, while squinting at the furnishings in their elegant living room. Is that the Hamptons?

Modern distractions are new, but the state of being distracted has been observed for centuries:

The idea of lapsed or divided attention at prayer has long occupied Jewish scholars. Rabbi Ethan Witkovsky of Park Avenue Synagogue explains—over Zoom, of course—machshavot zarot, which a 13th-century sage described as “spurious thoughts” that creep into worshipers’ heads. “Back then, it might have been the health of your ox that intruded, whereas today it could be your bank balance or an episode of ‘Game of Thrones,’ ” he says.

(I've never had to worry about the health of an ox, but the health of my car, that's another matter.)

The coronavirus has irrevocably changed the world of work, and, likewise the world of worship. Having another option on Sunday morning is much better than having no option at all. As the Gershwins might have said, live-streaming is here to stay.

Thank Goodness I Got Through Friday

Friday started off promisingly.

I dashed off a letter to Mom, then used the Starbucks app to order a blackeye (two shots of espresso added to a regular coffee). I grabbed the car keys, iPhone, wallet, and letter before heading out the door.

The first hitch in the plan for a beautiful Friday was the discovery of a flat tire on the Camry. Changing it would take some time, so as a temporary fix the cigarette-lighter-powered air pump reinflated the tire. The leak could be a one-off occurrence, but 9 times out of 10 the cause is a nail and repair or replacement will be necessary.

Forget esthetics, I want protection

What happened next can only be excused by too many distractions--mailing the letter, picking up the coffee, and worries about the tire--for the aging mind. I had earlier put the iPhone on the car roof and forgot to remove it.

At Starbucks the realization dawned that the phone was missing. Hurrying home, I walked the car's path for the first couple of blocks without success. (Having bought a "military grade drop tested" case, the phone probably survived.)

I returned to the car and drove slowly along the entire route, glancing at the Apple Watch to see if the iPhone was within bluetooth range. Again, no luck, maybe somebody had picked it up.

The "Find My" app on the Mac showed the iPhone to be a half-mile from the house. That was good news, because it meant that the phone was intact.

I'll save you the litany of false steps that were made, dear reader, including getting back in the car for one more search. Suffice it to say that your humble blogger was not aware of all the alert and messaging features of the "Find My" app. The man who found the iPhone showed up at my door. He was tall, ruddy, masked, and middle-aged, with a baseball cap and walking shorts.

How did you know my address?

"It popped up briefly." [After reading the "Find My" instructions, I still don't see how that happened.]

Here, let me give you something.

"Oh, no," he said, waving his hands.

Thank you sir.

And with that, he was gone, and I don't even know his name.

I do have a picture of his shadow (right), which the camera took while he was looking at the display.

Lessons learned:

Kind strangers still exist;

Flat tires are minor compared to other problems;

Never put stuff on the roof of your car.

No Reason to Feel Superior

Within the past 60 days your humble blogger

dropped an unprotected iPhone onto concrete, cracking its screen,

completely overlooked a registration renewal, incurring a $195 penalty,

lost his wallet.

No appointment? The line goes out the door at the DMV.

Each mistake had a reasonable excuse---the iPhone was perched on some papers and two cups of coffee as I tried to pull open a door, the DMV invoice was stuck behind other papers, and the wallet fell through a car-door crack while I was dozing---but maybe they're not a coincidence. Maybe the long slide into mental oblivion has begun.

Losing a wallet was most burdensome because it entailed the cancellation of four credit / debit cards and the replacement of a California driver's license in person at a DMV office. I surveyed eight locations and selected the one with the closest appointment, which was three weeks from now (forgetting one's valid license at home is an infraction that can be dismissed if one produces it, but I would not have been able to produce one for three weeks). My intrepid spouse persisted in searching after midnight for an appointment , however, and so it was that I found myself at the Hayward DMV office at 9 a.m., less than 24 hours after the wallet was lost.

The appointment line had only one person ahead of me. I was done in less than an hour, temporary license in hand, while the 50-deep no-appointments queue had hardly budged. Once upon a time I might have mocked others for their lack of foresight, but these days I have no reason to feel superior.

I (again) resolved to be more mindful about what I'm doing, but I'll probably forget this promise by tomorrow.

There is No Rake

Zen rock gardening:

The rocks resemble mountains, and the sand, water. As you rake the sand around the rocks, you can choose patters and designs reflecting swirling pools or swift streams.

Do not consider what you create or how you do it, what matters is the act of creation.

Silicon Valley is learning that the faster we go, the less we accomplish.

a growing number of tech executives who believe the answer is slowing down — and are leading the way with meditation, a 2,500-year-old practice that quiets the mind of its scattered thoughts and patterns of thinking. Medical proof of its benefits — studies show it literally changes the brain and body — is moving meditation from the margins into the mainstream.

Salesforce CEO Marc Benioff, Twitter CEO Jack Dorsey and Google co-founder Sergey Brin meditate — and provide opportunities for employees to do the same.

Or, if you want to be old school, on Sundays you could go to church early and pray for a few minutes.