They say you learn something new every day. This morning, I learned that, if I am not paying attention, my body will unceremoniously dump me on my keister, and it has been doing that for years.
Whenever the mind wanders far afield, accidents happen, objects are dropped, exits are missed, the body, sans driver, bumping aimlessly into all manner of things. My body’s favorite trick is to roll one of my ankles out from under me, a surefire way to bring mind and spirit back to the present, especially if I return to find myself in, say, a freezing-cold mud puddle. (Undignified, but extremely effective.)
What is your body saying to you today? Are there abraisions marking the travels of a roving mind, flung far into the future or past? Pain and embarrassment will certainly bring a quick halt to mental meanderings, but the experience need not be so abrupt.
Perhaps a regular conversation would be easier on all involved.