Here begins where I left off nearly two years ago now. I was in motion then, but there were parts of my journey still cooking and left to be sorted out. Then I fell. It was a big deal fall. Not like the time I flipped my car or other car accidents that left me in the lurch, but I shifted out of in the main, reasonably quickly. Reasonably meant I went back to work and healed as I went along, sometimes for months, three car accidents for years.
Of course there were traumas along the way. Like slurring my words in the evening when tired to which I was oblivious. People signing up for my workshops thought I was drunk. It took two of them telling me so I became aware. Late in the game after sharing this news, a healer sent me to a Neurologist. I was admitted as an emergency to his office. Gratefully after tests he ruled out hematoma. After more test he ruled in a serious concussion, TBI, as the nomenclature of the moment. There were more things he uncovered from my past, but that is way way another story.
Perspective is everything it is said. THAT recovery was a stroll through a parched garden compared to this fall.
Suffice it to say, after the fall recovery does come. And in recovery, new life got discovered. But the journey from that cold hard ground until this moment is worthy of comment. We all have moments that alter our lives. This is one of mine. I have a Face Book friend who, while I was convalescing for six months at my sister's home, wrote of his own car accident that landed him in the hospital for many months. I am sure his life journey also will never be the same. But our defining moments are not always of accidents or trauma, but when they are they deserve our love and our voice.
That moment when my whole body hit solid ice? I am not really ready to write of it. I shudder just writing that first sentence. But sharing what did come, had to come and was urgent in expression naturally then, I am ready to share.
I just walked yesterday around a lake. It was beautiful and with undulating trails. It has taken twenty two months before my legs, hips, feet and gait could safely perform that task. To say that I am careful every foot along the way would be too mild, but the joy it brings me is immeasurable. While that progress, sorely earned came about, I cannot naturally hold a fork with my left hand as I cut even the softest of cooked food. And that is just my hand. But I am deliciously happy with my progress, slow to arrive and precious in it awakening.
One way of celebrating my progress is to chronicle parts of my journey from them until now. My chronicling is sketchy as I wend my way back to writing in my blog. I have been away from it for a long time. It has been not yet to sit at my desk writing in this way, organizing the field necessary for a blog to be safely saved, edited and published.
My journey reflections from that time in January, 2015 until now. Much of my early reflections came as I was healing from surgery, unable to use my left hand or my right with ease either. I wrote with one finger on most of the early poetry that you will find here in the reflections that I will share each week.
It slowed me way down to write with one finger. When we slow way down we are given two options. Complain and get impatient or go along for the ride. For the better part of me, I chose the latter and it shaped my new destiny.
I found every day things more than ever before to be a miracle. I finally befriended snow. I got concerned with the things right in front of me. I focused on the moment. I ceased to think about my injuries and brought my awareness back to the moment, be it in exquisite body pain or the snow falling at my sister's home. I got crisp and I gave over to the reality that I could not leave, go home, drive or cook my own food for the first months, to name only a few changes that occurred of things we take for granted.
Journeys are what we make them. Meaning is discovered, at least for me, along the way.
Seeing that there was a there and there is a here and now and later there be more and that in recovery the best is still yet to be is the nature of what defines my journey. Gratefully I am here in the story. And in the next blog, I will share my reflections in poetry, some already posted in a scant kind of way while I was there but mainly I will be sharing tear drops and triumphs, reckonings and dreams, my moments of no and my giving over the just the raw moment of now.
Dear Reader, if there is value for you in this sharing, I hope it may be that you are reflecting on your journey, the ones recent and the ones of the past that shaped for you a new destiny. See you in the next blog if you decide to drop by.
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