Patience and Equanimity
Trusting
Allowing
Cultivating Equanimity- the capacity to be with what is unfolding in the present moment.
This shit is hard on a good day, let alone moving through recovery from surgery with pain, stiffness, muscle spasms, fatigue, boredom and lack of good sleep having to lie prone on my back for 6 weeks with my legs immobilized with a wedge to prevent tossing and turning and dislocating my hip.
I sit here at my desk almost 3 weeks post op from a posterior total hip replacement. I have to sit on an elevated cushion with the operated leg at less than a 90 degree angle so there is awkwardness and discomfort here and my operated leg twitches at the thigh and shin. This however, is a win and a change of scenery from the living room.
So many of the well wishes from cards, texts and Facebook posts wish me a speedy recovery. I also wish this and recognize that in this moment and season of my life that while that is desired, it is also not feasible.
Healing happens in its own time and pace.
I do however mark my slow and steady, yet non-linear progress. Prior to the surgery, for quite some time, standing and walking were too painful to consider for more than a minute. 2 weeks post op, I graduated from a walker to the cane I have been using for 5 months prior to surgery. The ratio of pain to stiffness changes in small increments but enough to notice!
Living with chronic pain for the last year and a half has been draining and the mantra moving towards this surgery has been: I AM RECLAIMING MY LIFE!
My vibrant life that involves serious play with grandchildren, dance parties, travel and being able to navigate with a modicum of ease.
AND this is also life and living.
Pain.
Healing.
Recovery.
The practice of being with everything as it unfolds, not merely the fun times, requires discipline, a mature spirituality AND a good, healthy support system.
Even though my world feels really small right now, I have the humble blessing of supportive family and friends, the ability to get lost and immersed in a good book, the felt sense as I move slowly walking outdoors of being held by sunshine and breeze. In this place of vulnerability, I have cried to music by Rising Appalachia, Noah Cyrus, Alexandra Blackley and other strong, soft female artists that weave melody and text into expansive containers for release and healing.
I listen to the sounds of summer fading, the quieter evenings of school nights, change in traffic patterns in the morning and witness the slow fade of the saturated green on the trees to hints of browns in this dry winding down of the season.
Life, not expansive or even perhaps vibrant, is still life. I get to be here and while there is nothing speedy about this process, I am here for all these small moments.
Wherever you are on your own non-linear journey of healing, I invite you to hold yourself with compassion in an ocean of grace. The fruits of this holding are patience and Equanimity .
