A Reprioritization Event (AKA what happens when you break your ankle)

March 9, 2016

The funny thing about fireworks…

are they pretty blasts of sparks in the air, or signals of destruction? Could be either, really. Kind of like what’s been happening up in here lately.

I’ve had a reprioritization event.

No, I’m not sure that is a real word, either.

But I sure know what it MEANS! It means the universe has kicked you in the square in the kundalini and told you to “WAKE UP!”.

I broke my ankle. Not just a little crack either. More akin to crushed lays potato chips at the bottom of the bag. Yowch!

This is currently being written from my main floor guest room where I balance my laptop on top of my dog while my leg is resting on a stack of pillows. It’s OK, she doesn’t mind. virtual awesome

Picture it, roller derby practice, on a Monday evening, a lovely stationary drill and then whoopsie, foot gets turned wrong and it’s like rice crispies up in here. Snap – Crackle – Pop.

Enter attractive firefighters and my first ambulance ride (as the patient).

Cut to ER and x-rays. “We have good news and bad news. The bad news is it’s broken. The good news it’s not dislocated.”  [chuckle chuckle] You’re not funny, dude.

Remember that feeling of shock when you’re just speechless with disbelief? Yeaaaaaaahhhhh.

In the hours and days that follow, fears, pain, confusion, more fear washes over me. I don’t love it. You start to question everything. EVERYTHING.

Why am I here?
What am I going to do?
What about my kids?
I’m lonely.
How do I pee?
How do I make lunch?
Why do my kids leave so much junk laying on the floors?

So what’s REALLY important? REALLY?

I’ve been injured like this, but I was younger. No family or kids to care for. Now, rather than wanting to heal and get back to whatever activity I was doing, I just want to be able to run and play with my kids, to take care of my husband, to drive my kids around to their activities… all the things I occasionally lamented before. I want to be successful in my business. I want to help people. I want to make a difference. I want to shine my light into the world (whatever that looks like, I’m not sure) and ADD to society, not just watch the world float by.

As I lay here and think (because what else is there to do), I realize I have let other people’s voices rule me. I have been steered by fear. I procrastinate, I avoid, I ignore because I’m scared. And what a shame! 

God gave us all talents and, I believe, we are to be stewards of those talents. Gifts given by God shouldn’t be wasted, should they? Yet, I see them, I feel them, and I ignore them. Because I’m scared of them. I’m scared of being myself. My middle school self appears and reminds me that I’m not worthy. I’m ugly. I’m different.

As I continue to sit and contemplate life, I feel bravery rising up.

It’s one of those things that is simple but not easy. I desperately want it to be easy. I want to be one of those people for whom things just seem effortless and happen easily and awesomely. It doesn’t always seem that way. Sometimes it’s take jarring things to shake us out of complacency. I don’t like all the jarring. But I see where it’s necessary. God, the Universe, Spirit, whatever you call it, I believe there are always other forces at play that want the best for us. 

I could question for days WHY this has happened. WHY I am going to have to spend the next 6 months or so healing and rehabbing my ankle so I can be who I want to be again. However, I am not going to do that.

This is my opportunity.

It’s a pivot point in my life, one I will look back on and say, “…after I broke my ankle…”. This whole thing will be a blessing in some way.

Adding that to the pile of trust and faith.

 

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