I thought I knew all of my edges. It turns out I was wrong. The weeks leading up to my one year anniversary of my accident have been a whirlwind. On the day I rode my new "used" mountain bike on a rocky, slightly technical trail compared to the gravel or dirt trails I had been riding, I thought to myself "This is great! I am really starting to turn the corner!"
A week later, I fell on a hike with a friend. Falling stirred up a plethera of emotions. The next week I cut my finger, got 6 stitches. Going to Urgent Care stirred up even more emotions. Last week I learned I have a frozen right shoulder. I still feel grateful. I am grateful that I did not know about any of this in advance. I might have reached my tipping point. I am grateful on deeper levels as well. My circumstances, both the physical ones and all the headaches I am having with unemployment are teaching me to be a better swimming teacher. Surprisingly, my time at work is helping me the most with the struggle I feel inside towards my body's time line and my own. Pain, suffering, disappointment, disillusionment and frustration are all teaching me about compassion. This Fall session I am working with several adult beginners, all of whom have had a traumatic experience related to water. Fortunately for them, I am better able to understand their limitations because of my own. I did not have this perspective before my accident-not at this deeper level. With every step of progress these students make, I experience an overwhelming sense of joy and inspiration.
Recently, I read a quote from Your Body Speaks Your Mind that I had underlined many years ago. It says" To be healed is to bring ourselves into a whole, to gather our lost voices and forgotten selves, and to embrace those parts of our being that have been hidden and denied. It is a journey of trust to discover our inner strength and it demands our total commitment."
It is this kind of work that's leading me to meet my new edges. In meeting my edges, it helps me to assist others to meet theirs. When I remember this, I feel purpose and inner strength.
A few days ago I met with several rescuers from Rocky Mountain Rescue Group that responded to Karla's call for help. Other than Greg, their faces were brand new to me. All seven of them. A few weren't able to attend the meeting: the pilot, two nurses, a paramedic and one other volunteer. To be able to process for almost two hours my rescue was extremely emotional for me. I got to look into the eyes of those individuals that put their own safety on the line to attend to my urgent medical needs. The ones that coordinated logistics, worried about the winds changing, the helicopter getting off the ground and getting me to a surgeon as quickly as possible. They are people if I had met on the street or a trail, I would want to know. Big hearts, competent and FUN-LOVING!.
One more time I learned that I came very close to dying and it mattered that the nurse from Pridemark- the ambulance service, was a strong climber especially since she was the one that did one of the most important tasks: re-inflate my left lung. The other nurse was too afraid to come up to the site. It also helped that most of the team members from RMRG had been at the same location in recent months for a rescue which allowed setting up the anchors for lowering me to go quickly and smoothly, and the speed at which my rescue occurred was very significant. By filling in the gaps of what happened on 10/31/10, being able to say THANK-YOU and give each rescuer a big hug, the words of Gretel Ehrich express so beautifully what I feel as a result.
"The lessons of impermanence taught me this: loss constitutes an odd kind of fullness; despair empties out into an unquenchable appetite for life."
