Break

When I broke my ankle several things changed.

That was four weeks ago.

It was a fairly minimal break, also a sprain on the opposite side of the same ankle. Small problem, but I was suddenly unable to walk, drive, carry anything, do yoga, cook or even pour myself coffee. Standing balancing. Stairs.

I found myself lying on my back, leg on three pillows (above my heart), icing my foot and ankle several times per day. Swelling was an issue. Everything I did, had to be modified. Crutches were a nessasary, exhausting and painful new friend. I figured them out eventually, but ugh, every place I went was an ordeal, just getting to the bathroom.

Sitting, something I barely did, I now do, a lot.

What have I been doing? Not blogging.

I haven’t clicked ‘publish’ at all lately. I have had an additional crash course in radical acceptance. I’ve devoted hours to reading. And drawing…

Drawing because most of my paints are in the attic, an impossible ladder climb away.

I might be the most boring person ever.

Drawing…

And reading.

Here I still sit. Though I’ve mastered crutches and stairs and can even do some yoga. I’m practicing standing and balancing. Even walking

I have this weird appreciation for these last four weeks. It’s a thing no one would ever wish for, but

Being limited like this has given me some different perspectives.

Sometimes subtle shifts change a person. I can’t explain why or how, but here are some

I notice myself more. I care for myself better. I intensely feel when I over do it. My human body has been hurt and needs things to heal. So with no judgement whatsoever, I do my best to accommodate my healing. I do my rehab exercises, I eat the best foods for bone health, I ice and rest and take it slow. I have no choice but to accept help. I thank everyone for stepping in, offering when I don’t ask, I have a deep appreciation for being cared for.

G brings me coffee and ice every morning. On top of doing everything else.

My MIL has been wonderful.

My yoga friend has come to pick me up for every class I feel up for.

I have experienced the compassion of so many in sweet and unexpected ways. I have not, and this surprises me, felt sorry for myself. I do not feel sad or mad that I fell. I actually feel like this happened because I needed this experience somehow.

Life is not meant to be all smooth and easy. Aiming for that is not why I’m here. I think Im starting to understand that some things need to break down in order to be rebuilt better. Me, I needed to break. I needed to spend sometime doing this.

And so I am