Did you ever stop to think, and forget to start again?
When life events are particularly large or compounding quickly, I pause to reflect and sift for lessons.
Except sometimes when I don’t, in fact, reflect or sift.
Like a computer buffering; hour glass keeps turning, eventually, screen freezes then goes blank.
So, to process and summarize the past 7 weeks, here is an abridged journal entry:
Sometimes life goes kitty-whompus.
No, before that.
Sometimes life goes so serenely according to plan that you just keep making more plans. Find yourself on top of it all, perched amoung the clouds; so high that you can’t help but look down and wonder at the space below your feet.
Chide yourself for doubting, for not having a self-esteem strong enough to self-sustain.
Focus back on the Good.
But no, really, how does this all not come crashing down. How might it?
How about, instead, take evasive maneuvers. Beat life to the Humbling by voluntarily sacrificing unnecessary pieces.
What is something I tell myself I need everyday, but actually don’t?
So, this summer, abdicated vehicle ownership.
Which has profoundly altered my life-style.
Had thought I could control the process, avoid a fall. Despite my being so magnanimously proactive, life proceeded on its own terms, “Nice job slowing down, little lady. Now let’s drop it to a crawl.”
Skiing with friends in early December, took a tumble and heard a strange pop from my insides. Knew immediately something was wrong. The betweinfinity from injury to prognosis gave way to lots of research which resulted in an allograft ACL surgery.
Scared and shaken but I began “at least-ing” immediately.
“At least it was a tidy injury, at least I won’t be on crutches long. No grounds to feel bad for myself with world class Dr.s right up the hill!”
Until I realized this wasn’t actually constructive.
Minimizing trauma seems an effort to circumvent the need to recognize and process.
If only a girl could talk herself out of being injured! But alas, that takes time, not talk.
As it was, realized I couldn’t change what happened but I could choose how to deal with it. Opted to follow tracks set by MommaBird and began a gratitude journal, in which to write 5 things for which I am grateful each day. For, borrowing from her “This I know…” list, “gratitude has transformative power.”
Even through the medicated haze, I was aware of a most astounding outpouring of support.
My family sent Little Sister to help through surgery and those early post-op days. She carved out the time and refused to leave my side even when we tempted her with all the beauty and fun Colorado has to offer just outside the front door.
Simultaneously, bonds formed and strengthened with co-workers over kindhearted casseroles, loopy games of Operation, and drifting conversations.
Those who are true and steadfast, bolstered me strong.
Recovery moves slowly, patience and resolve are tested.
As with a physical injury, if emotional convolution isn’t addressed, defensive tissue thickens around it. An important process, at first, but if untended, prolongs the ache and limits long-term capacity. So, just as with physical therapy, it serves to focus and make the effort every day. Knead the scar tissue, particularly when it hurts. Celebrate (especially on those dejected days) even the smallest effort toward healing.
Another truth shared by Momma are the words spoken by Lady Julian of Norwich:
“First there is the fall, then we recover from the fall; both are the mercy of God.”