I’m not so good at taking pictures and putting them here on my blog.
I’m not so good at doing a lot of things, walking being one of them, as is apparent in the fact that I am currently lying on my couch with an elevated foot,ice bag on my ankle and crutches framing the pic-you-cannot-see.
Damn that ice hurts! Actually more than the very bad sprain that it is resting on. What hurts more is crawling about on the floor of my apartment on my knees and pulling myself up and down the stairs on my butt. I do not have a fleshy butt, no twerking here, there would be no point. So with every thump of that stair I curse the complete klutz that I am that fell over not-so-specatcularly in a restaurant yesterday after a lovely yoga practice and lunch. UGH! So frustrating on so many levels. I had full days planned this week, lots of fun things, some work, starting my writing group, lots of yoga (which is making me the saddest of all and re-affirming my joy in having a yoga practice to call my own). artists dates (via the artist’s way) , celebrating a friend’s 2nd birthday, just a lot of stuff, a busy and productive week. Instead I find myself couch bound today, cutting my next few days drastically into what HAS to be done, including a doctors appointment in there which means money because this early in there are deductibles to be paid.
Having fun yet? I could go on, and on, as I’m sure you can guess.
I don’t want to though. I start down that whiney, self-pitying path and I just can’t help but think how pointless it is. I’m astonished by that as I have never been one to not enjoy a good bout of whining and complaining, but it seems my tolerance has changed for that sort of thing (every time I say “that sort of thing” I feel like Lady Mary in Downton, i amuses me).
The fact is, barring any self-recrimination and spewing about the unfairness of it all, that this is what happened. I fell. I sprained my ankle. It makes it hard for me to move around (and wish I had a fleshier ass!). It means I have to cancel things. It means I have to eat differently than I had planned, accomplish different tasks, head into certain situations less prepared.
So what? What we are talking about here is inconvenience. There are much worse problems, harder lives and more difficult circumstances.
I am so over getting all jacked up by these little things in my life. I am so much happier accepting them, looking for what I can do, not what I can’t, and moving forward. I am tired of me, the way I always operate. It’s so boring even I, front and center in my own life, can barely stay awake through it. I don’t know if there is a reason that this happened, if there is I may never know it so who cares, right? I am just going to be inconvenienced for a few days. I am not dying or fighting cancer (like too many I know). I’m not drinking, god, what a disaster that would be! I will admit to opening a bag of potato chips this afternoon and so what? they were good. I’m writing, both here and Artist Way exercises, catching up on TV, watching the Olympics, I did try and figure out how to put a picture on here (for the sympathy, naturally) but it didn’t download . I spent time searching for a book I loaned out to bring to my writing workshop as an assignment, I talked on the phone to friends, I did some knitting….it is not that bad!
The idea that I have in my head that says life is, or has to be, a certain way is a joke. Life just happens and all we can do is roll with it. It is quite a luxury, I think, to understand that. Very few people do, and, admittedly , I am usually one of those that don’t . Sometimes though, as I hear myself on the phone whining about something, clarity hits. I feel such a surge of “Get over yourself” coming up and I listen to that more and more often now. I’m tired of me. Does that make sense? I am really tired of me, me ,MEEEEE!! Bleh!
I am also tired of letting these things bother me so much, seriously, I want to just be able to roll with life. I have certainly never been a lemonade out of lemons gal, and don’t even want to be that, but more pragmatic, less reactive would be good. It would also be appropriate, to who I am and to where I want to go in my life. Letting go, accepting, responding, all great words that keep me focused on a path I am attempting to be on, one of mindfulness and truth. One of not-self, one of service and usefulness. There is no room for self-pity on that path. Or worrying too much, or wallowing in the unfairness of it all.