Well, I survived the six week recovery. And by survive, I somehow didn’t do more damage to my repaired hernia but not for lack of living, because I surely didn’t try. There were certainly moments where well, let’s just say, what I said in those moments: “oh f*ck.”
But I’ve been getting better and for that…
I’m grateful. I give thanks.
Soul mahalo.
I made it to the other shore on this trip I didn’t intentionally book a ticket for. And what did the voyage give me?
A scar, which at first kind looked like a pointy frown but now that I think about it, actually kind of looks like a peace sign but the circle is the outside of my belly button.
Eh, that’s cool, right?!
It’s given me incredible stiffness and easing back into working out has been fun albeit exhausting and sore in oddly unfamiliar ways. The first time I took on a large amount of steps on a staircase after really doing cardio and my knees were like: nah, brah, I’m good.
Lack of rest and sleep debt. I’m a side sleeper and did not get back to that without pain until five weeks into this. As I’ve increased my energy expenditures each week, the exhaustion at times has been next level. To the point where it caught up with me and I legit went to bed at 9:30pm last night.
But I gladly went to bed because one of the key learnings of this was that I was grinding way too hard and pushing myself too far without listening to my body and getting the rest I needed.
As my teacher would say, “it’s all an experience,” and this “my dear” has been just that.
From butting heads with my caregiver who had a lot going on and having recently been in that role with her myself, that sh!t is no joke when so many other things are playing out, to trying to figure out how to adapt to an expanded role and the tasks that came with it, while still somehow being creative, in some ways newly creative, while Life right now doesn’t feel like what I would have wanted for the turning of another page soon, I really do feel a profound sense of gratitude.
And it’s wild because I used to feel so much rage all the time when faced with stress.
I’m not there in the super blissed out state, I still feel all the feels and I’m managing my persistent depressive disorder, but I’m truly okay, because I’ve learned new things, I’m still playing the game, and these legs got some more to give.
Just like the Golden State Warriors in the NBA Playoffs. Might not have earned home court advantage but made it through the play-in and into the playoffs. And despite all of that, perhaps better equipped to make a run now, more than ever.
Note: IRL, love you Steph, but it’s King James, Luka Magic, and the Lake Show baby!
The expanded perspective that I’ve gained has been priceless and this time of forced physical pause allowed me to expand my creative and helped in the shaping of new ideas. It’s given me clearer sight and focus.
It’s hard to slow down and while I’m older, I don’t think I’m getting old, I still need to continue to cultivate a stronger practice of self-care because as Life has demonstrated time and time again, it gets harder and we do one day, get old.
What’s next?
We’ll just have to see. And so will y’all cause Life’s no spoilers these days.
As much as I can apply the learnings from another season of pain forward, there’s no way I can avoid adversity. But if I can channel the learning of adverse happenstance, perhaps I can live and love more fully, at least for another day. Maybe I can be a bit of Light…
If that’s what comes with what’s next, I’ll take it with an open +Being.
With that, namaste, soul be well, and why not, aloha harder.