LYING DOWN
When Anything Else Takes Too Much Effort
“Dogpile!”
That was the call for all the kids to come running and make a human pile in the middle of the floor. Elbows and knees sticking out in all directions, and everyone gasping for breath until rolling off one another in fits of laughter. I’m not sure why it was called a dogpile. I’ve never encountered a pile of dogs … maybe it has something to do with alleviating the boredom of the dog days of summer, which is another saying from my childhood that doesn’t make a lot of sense.
I remember the feeling when you were the one on the bottom of the dogpile. It’s not unlike the feeling of the weight of responsibility—both leave you gasping for air. When everything seems like one more thing, and there just isn’t enough time to possibly get it all done … phone calls to make, bills to pay, meetings to attend. Each responsibility on its own is no big deal. But when they come at you all at once, and just keep coming ... lying sprawled flat out like Leonardo DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man seems like a good idea.
My husband has perfected the art of lying down. From the start of our marriage, he and a recliner were a package deal. He can be found in said recliner at the end of each day with the footrest fully extended and the backrest at just the right angle to watch TV. This is the position I’ve imagined would be perfect when flying first class on a transatlantic flight. We’ve never flown first class, but when we do, I hope it’s as great as I’ve imagined it would be. And in case you were wondering … NO! … I don’t bring him hot towels.
There are days when sitting upright just takes too much effort. For my husband, this is every day. He claims it’s because of the ruptured disc in his back—which is somehow my fault—something to do with moving a big-screen TV and redecorating, which probably was my idea, so touché. Someone once told me that if I want to be successful, I should read the story of someone who has already succeeded. So I picked up a famous actor’s autobiography—I think it was Harrison Ford—whose advice was to lie down whenever possible. He was most likely referring to long days on a movie set, but obviously he agrees that sitting upright just takes too much effort.
We stopped eating dinner at the dining table shortly after the kids flew the nest. When I force my husband (his word, not mine) to sit at the table, he manages this awkward, hunched-over posture, with his forehead nearly touching the tabletop, which makes the romantic dinner and conversation that I had planned impossible. I heard of a couple who eat dinner in bed every night. At first, I thought eating dinner in bed sounded self-indulgent—not to mention messy. But now I can see the attraction of the idea.
And then it got me thinking about what other things can be accomplished while lying down.
