Gravity: Two perspectives

Gravity is something most people don’t think a whole lot about on a daily basis. It is introduced during school in science class, and then (for most of us) once the test for that class is over, your knowledge of gravity is limited to the image of the apple falling on Newton’s head. His Law of Gravitation is a fundamental tenet of science that underlies many of the modern premises of mathematics and engineering – stuff that’s way over my head and most normal people don’t deal with day to day (at least knowingly).

Except for at least two times in your life.

The first is around 10 – 11 months old, like my Luke. He’s just learning the concept that if he drops something, it falls. One of his favorite activities right now is to sit in front of a basket of toys, take them out one by one, put them in his mouth one by one, and then drop them on the floor one by one. If he swayed a little and we had music going in the background it would almost be a dance – pick up, put in mouth, drop. He could do this for hours at a time (translated to toddler-time: 10 minutes).

To Luke, gravity is a game. It is a miraculous thing that means that when you drop things, they fall. Things falling make sounds. Things falling that are made out of different materials make different sounds. I dread the point when he figures out (by dropping something from his high chair, no doubt) that things falling from different heights make different sounds. Gravity helps him sort out his world, and provides a means of wonderful discovery.

The second time you think about gravity frequently is middle-age. The aging process is making me stare squarely in the face of gravity right now – and that face has new lines on it more frequently than I’d like. Laugh lines, worry lines, crow’s feet … I actually don’t even know all the names of the different lines because I’ve never much thought about it. ‘Til now.

Gravity is why my stomach crunches don’t have the same effect they did in my 20’s. Gravity is why my bottom sags more than it used to (though it never was particularly tight). Gravity is why – if I had any breasts to speak of – they would be starting to sag a bit right now.

While I can pretty effectively avoid the mirror (hair pulled into a ponytail, clothes that don’t require primping, makeup applied while stopped at red lights in the car if it’s on at all), I am forced to look at my hands for hours each day. I type on the computer a lot, and it’s watching my hands while doing so that gives me pause. They are no longer youthful hands; they are actually getting lines and developing a pebbly texture. I even think I can see two age spots on my left hand by my ring finger knuckle. Yikes!

But I’m lucky. I get to look at Luke laughing at the sound of a rattly toy drop on the floor. Instead of focusing on the age spots developing on my left hand, I think I’ll focus my energy on helping him figure out that gravity also works in reverse – meaning you can drop things INTO a basket just as easily as you can drop them OUT of it.