A few nights ago, I slipped on our wet steps while removing a colorful rain boot and simultaneously leaning over to move a pair of shoes. In an instant, I fell over and rolled down 4 steps, landing on concrete. Having tumbled down an entire staircase once before, at least 20 steep steps but probably more, I palpably recalled the sense of increasing velocity that occurs with each inch. Fortunately, this time just 4 steps flew by till I thumped onto the concrete laying heavily on top of my left wrist.
Yes, it really hurt! I felt in shock, but nothing was broken.
My husband gingerly helped me get up and into the house. At the door, I boldly announced, “My body is strong. I can handle this.”
At the same time, I felt acutely reminded of life’s fragility. Gratitude filled my being. After all, I didn’t have a concussion or even a broken bone.
Nevertheless, as I sat on the bed trying to regain my bearings, my wrist throbbed and throbbed. I alternated calm with sobbing. My arms and hands shook and trembled from time-to-time. I know the body releases trauma via these physical quakes so I felt confidence in its natural ability to care for itself.
I took an Ibuprofen for the pain, swallowed a sleep aid, and gently rubbed homeopathic Arnica cream on my left wrist and hand. I then arranged my arm on a pillow to achieve the least degree of distress. It took a little time for the pang to subside, but I managed to nod off and sleep well.
A Reminder to Love and Live Right Now
I know this is NOTHING, absolutely nothing compared to my friends who are recovering from cancer. It’s nothing compared to the suffering of this world.
But I embrace it as a reminder to love and live right now.
I spend too much time in my head, deliberating my life purpose when it’s not that confusing or unclear.
- I write on this blog to help and encourage others and offer my course so they find more ease.
- I help people learn to meditate so they can be free from suffering and taste true happiness.
- I work on the land to honor all the sustenance she gives to us.
- I meditate to soften my own heart and to learn to live in the pure awareness of now.
I’m not ready to die. I feel I have miles to go. But I know what happens in the next moment is not within my control.
When it’s time to move on from this body, I know this life will be but a forgotten dream. But the imprints of my habits will ride along with my most subtle awareness, dictating whatever comes next.
May I make more moments matter instead of reiterating the dysfunctional aspects of my personality.
May I relax and realize that everything is just fine, there’s no need to be tight.
May I let love be my guide and trust my sentinel as I slip into the the unknown, whether it’s the next moment or my final departure from this realm.
Over the 4 days following my fall, a bee stung me, a water pipe broke, and I managed to put the wrong type of fuel in my car.
These turned out to be powerful lessons when I slowed down and listened. They especially showed me how I relate to emergencies - sometimes calmly and sometimes far less so. The "far less so" encouraged me to look further into the source of my tears and fears. Now I know I can take back my control.
Also, these challenges inspired me to delve into obstacles from a spiritual perspective, waking me up even more to what's truly important to me in this quickly passing life.
What wakes you up to the fragility and preciousness of this life? I would love to hear.
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Be well. Be happy. Be safe. With love, Sandra