Last week when she was sick, and could barely make it five or six steps before crashing, I tried to imagine what life would be like if your hold on balance was so tenuous. I couldn't imagine just falling every few steps. And I certainly couldn't imagine consistently getting back up again.
It's true that this is all she knows, but really, when does the brain decide that failure is not okay, and stop trying when success is not quick and simple? I want to just keep getting back up. And to be happy about it.