I was still feeling chilled when I began this blog. It was a cold wintry day and I was wearing three layers of clothes, long johns under my jeans, a thermal top, a flannel shirt, and a vest. I had just returned from my daily morning walk and I was impatient for the warmer weather to arrive. The next day promised spring and I walked outside with a vest and a lighter jacket. The following day I only needed a vest and the sun warmed me. I’ve become sensitive to the effect of weather on my mind and body. I am aware of likes and dislikes and trying not to have favorites but I do. It’s easier to walk up the hill in our neighborhood when the sidewalks are clear of ice. I adapt and find the mask I wear over my face is not only protective of germs but also the bite of frigid air. When I embrace the cold, rather than struggling against it, I find it invigorating. I make the effort to go uphill at a good steady pace. I do this whether I am bundled up or walking unburdened by heavy outer garments. Warm or cold I always find something new to experience and worthy of a pause to stop to take in the experience. Today I passed a few snowdrops and a few sprouts of green heralding daffodils and stopped to appreciate them. There is still some ice on the small pond in our back yard but two ducks have found a melted area and are swimming. I don’t always see them but I know they are present and my husband and I are wondering if we’ll be seeing some ducklings soon. The ducks caught my eye because I took the time to stop and explore the area behind our house now that it was free of snow. I wanted to feel the earth under my feet and say hello to its sogginess and savor its recovery from winter. Of course the holes, the brownness of the grass, and the irregularities of the ground were also visible, the evidence of winter winds and changing temperatures.
I wonder sometimes if aging helps me notice change and to take nothing for granted. It’s another day now as I write. The sun is out and it’s perfect weather-wise but I am nursing a bad sprain in my ankle. As I was nearing home yesterday in my afternoon walk with the dog I noticed a puddle and not wanting our dog to drink from it decided to go over the stanchion next to it. I reached its top and tripped and fell. Surprise. I landed hard on the pavement of the parking lot on the other side of the stanchion and could not get up. As I paused and took inventory of the state of my body memories of an earlier time came back to me. It was many years ago and I was teaching Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction full time. There was a conference and Jon Kabat-Zinn was speaking. I was also going to be a presenter and I was a bit late so I was running across the parking lot and suddenly tripped and fell. People rushed over to ask if I was all right and I said, yes, except I wasn’t. Instead of stopping, accepting help, and acknowledging I was injured I got up and proceeded to the conference. I did not know I had broken a bone in my foot and fearing I’d miss out on Jon’s talk or presenting at the conference I continued on—for two more days before going to the doctor. I used a wheelchair at the conference, elevated my foot but did not go for an x-ray deluding myself the pain would pass and I didn’t need to be examined.
I am older now and my priorities have shifted. My life is slower and more spacious. I work much less and am not rushing to establish myself as “special” or aspire to any particular role or position. It was late afternoon when I fell this week and I slowly got up, discovered I could put weight on my foot, hoped I did not break the ankle or some other bone, and limped home. I iced it and appreciated that I now had the time, wisdom, and ability to have it examined and there was NOTHING I really had to do except attend to what was needed—get my foot examined, which I did. It was a sprain and not a break.
We are hard-wired to have a negative bias. It’s necessary for survival but how spacious and uplifting to also acknowledge the positive. I realized that I could not wish away the swelling and pain in my foot and I was worried. To stop worrying I needed information. I did not want to go to urgent care. I anticipated a long wait and crowded unhealthy conditions. When I did go I found helpful people, safety, and good care. I feel fortunate, the fall could have resulted in serious injury and I was spared. As the next day dawned bright and beautiful and I woke up feeling the pain in my foot and looked outside at the glory of the day and felt the warm temperature, I almost immediately felt irritable. I wanted to walk. I realized I wouldn’t be walking around the neighborhood for at least two weeks. I couldn’t even navigate our house with ease. Going up or down our stairs was challenging. I needed to hold on to the railing and needed both hands to do it. There was no way I could safely carry my coffee from the kitchen to my upstairs office. Accidents happen I told myself. This will pass, I was being careful but miscalculated the height of a barrier that I was stepping over. I reminded myself I am not calling myself “stupid” or indulging in self-blame (most of the time) and considered blaming my new sneakers for causing me to lose my balance. I reminded myself this was a minor injury and even the dog waited for me after I dropped his leash and I got home safely: Gratitude. Still, my irritability continued and increased and I could not talk myself out of it.
Minor things went wrong on this day. I could not access my email because my password didn’t work. A repairman came to the house and discovered there was more work than we anticipated and we would need to call someone else. I timed a talk with a client during the time of a scheduled meeting. Sigh. I meditated, focused on breath, body, felt the effect of irritation, and still, it persisted.
I made the effort to be pleasant to my dear husband who was also upset. His day was disrupted too by my lack of mobility. It triggered his worries about my health as he remembered past illnesses and vulnerability. He wasn’t happy with the repair man’s news either.
It’s another day. Spring no longer feels like an anomaly and the weather continues to be good so I can sit outside. We took the covers off the patio furniture and I don’t need a winter coat. I saw snowdrops amid a strip of pachysandra and white and purple crocuses pushing through the earth. I feel a sense of spaciousness and a decrease in the urgency to go and to do. What made the change in mood and mind? I am not sure. There is no magic formula. I know everything passes given time and patience when I can let be (accept things as they are, even bad moods).
I am older today than yesterday and just as the earth circles the sun and creates seasons so does the mind and the aging process. Is that why I fell? I am more aware of how, like the earth, my body is changing. This brings a new appreciation of the fullness of life and my own aliveness. Do we have to lose something to appreciate what we have? Sometimes I need reminders that everything changes and that includes thoughts, feelings, and sensations. Then I can maintain perspective and REMEMBER to stop, smell the roses, feel the air on my face, and truly taste the sweet/bitter, tangy, fullness of life.