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…

I might be the most boring person ever.

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

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