Back to gifts.... so I am tired and hurting much of the time yet I am grateful for this condition-- what??? Does that make sense? If you would have asked me this three months ago, I would have emphatically said "NO way!" but yes way, actually. Explain.
So that truck hit me and, in that moment, things changed for me. Initially, it was all about pain and anger and what the heck am I going to do about work and obligations? But two months later, I have realized that I am not indispensable at work -- life goes on with or without me - and limited mobility requires that I redefine myself. No longer the biker, kickboxer, walker, weight lifter, go go go person (at least temporarily), I have remembered the observer, the artist, the writer, the reader, the thinker, the lover, the philosopher. Imagine my surprise when I discovered that it is heavenly to lay on the couch, watch out the front window,and let the blues, greens and golds of fall be my blanket. With ear phones plugged in and the music of Jack Johnson or Mark Knopfler sinking into my bones, I rest and recovery happens.
But the gift is in the memory, I hope. I want to remember what it was like to just be. I want to remember what it was like to not be on the treadmill. I found a side of me that I have missed and she doesn't want to be lost again.