As the air thins and the temperature drops, a voice within recognizes that October is near. At the end of this month, I'll have eleven months of recovery under my belt. As I say that tears start to form. My throat closes a bit. The words to describe what I am feeling are still difficult to find.
Where I am today is not something I envisioned. I can ride a bike for an hour. I can hike up steep hills. I can perform daily tasks with minimal pain. My body feels whole not broken. My spirit continues to grow. My heart wants nothing more than to be open. I continue to feel touched by grace and know I am being re-shaped from the inside out.
While driving into Boulder for PT this morning, the overcast view of the Divide made me remember the heart-felt conversations I'd had with Jenny, Miriam, Julie, Janet, Maureen, Kristen, Stephanie, Rebecca, Kathy, Catherine, Michelle and Karla during the four months of being transported to physical therapy by one of them. I have not forgotten what it felt like to be so encouraged and loved. Funny, how a shift in the barometric pressure can evoke so much emotion.
I know what I've yearned for, but not once have I had a clear picture in my mind of where I would be at this stage. Where I will be in the future, I am not sure. The only thing I am sure about is that my body will be different this time next year. Will it be stronger? I sure hope so.
A few months ago, in an attempt to feel more in charge, and like a serious athlete again, I outlined my swimming goals. It went something like this: March 2012, I will be swimming 3x week 1000 yards, building up to 4000 yards. In June, I will add intervals. By September, I will return to swimming with Masters. Since that time, what's unfolded is the range of motion in my left shoulder returned as my right shoulder entered a phase of imbalance. I'm told its not a frozen shoulder. It hurts like one. It makes pulling my hair up difficult again. I can't reach behind my back very well. I can't sleep on my right side anymore.
I didn't expect this. Like I didn't expect a frozen shoulder. I'm starting to question whether to have milestones to reach. It seems premature and not where my attention should go. I've always relied upon concrete goals and plans. The lesson seems to be about my learning to be more fluid. It's about discovering the new Beth, not holding onto to the old version. It's about taking each day as it comes. It's about seeing the gifts. And, keeping the faith that I will swim again.
This week was suppose to be the start of my Fall teaching session. The week before, I learned I did not re-qualify for unemployment benefits. Panic and fear arose in a way I've not experienced sense the end of last year. The pool where I have taught for 22 years is closed indefinitely. Gallons of water are leaking out daily. First, they have to find the leak. Then repair it. Sounds simple, right? Not necessarily. I've been shut down before-two months was the longest. I don't like the position I am. I've worked hard to not be here. And, so it is. I am certain there is a lesson in this as well.
I've reapplied to unemployment. We are in the process of refinancing our home and I am selling my camper and sea kayak. That's all I know to do at this stage. My biggest fear is not being able to afford PT and massage. No big deal to cut back the fat elsewhere. In the meantime, I am using my extra time to get SUPER organized. I am doing all the admin projects I've always avoided.
Recently, I submitted a new piece to my the monthly writing group. I am writing about my accident. It's the first time no one in the group had anything negative to say. Writing about my fall and recovery is helping me sort through my experiences more deeply. Maybe, all the extra time is more about me writing my book than teaching and earning money.
Matt completed the tiling. The hints of orange and moss green compliment and complete the deck. The next phase is building benches. Now thanks to my Aunt, who is more like an older sister, we have a beautiful, antique wooden Mexican chest in our living room. It means a lot to me to have a part of her in our home.
