The “Before” Me. Legs strong and straight. Broad-hipped, stocky, close to the earth. Spine stretched and reaching up towards the sky. Curvy, soft, a place for hugs. Relaxed. Fast walker/hiker with a little bounce in my step. Moving was so easy I took it for granted.
The “After” Me. Left leg filled with pain. Back crooked, hunched. Left hip shooting out to one side as if it’s not sure where it belongs. Afraid to move, to hug, to be hugged. Tension. Hobbling, limping, wary of sudden movements or anything that jars the body. Moving hurts so much I have to force myself to do it.
I’ve been spending time with the pain lately, trying to listen to it. I believe I’m beginning to understand what it’s trying to say to me and in this acknowledgement and understanding, I believe I’m beginning to heal. I’ve done what the doctor and physical therapist wanted me to do. Nothing worked. Now that I’m doing what my body wants me to do, there is less pain, less forcefulness to my movements, less tension, more healing.
My body, with its deep down wisdom, knows what to do. All I have to do is take the time to listen.
Our own physical body possesses a wisdom which we who inhabit the body lack. We give it orders which make no sense. ~Henry Miller
Caught him! Or her. I’m not really sure, but I tend to think of him as him.
The heron did come back yesterday afternoon. I was hobbling around the house, trying to get a bit of packing done, when I looked out the living room window and there he was, chowing down on frogs. No doubt my readers will be happy that I didn’t catch him with the frog’s legs hanging out of his mouth. By the time I grabbed the camera and hobbled back, he’d swallowed it and was busy looking for more food.
I wonder how many frogs one great blue heron can eat in a day? I also wonder if that will cut down on the noisy and rowdy frog chorus that goes on in the spring.
It’s another beautiful sunny day here in the Bogs. Perfect weather for hanging out laundry which is a coincidence because it just happens to be my plan for today.
We can only be said to be alive in those moments when our hearts are conscious of our treasures. ~Thornton Wilder