Lessons from The Big Fall
Calendared as a day of remembrance, July 20, 2023: The Big Fall. A day to recall what it means to suffer trauma, how healing happens in fits and starts, how at times life lessons get delivered in uncomfortable ways. It got my attention and these 3 reminders have played out with consistency over this ensuing year. The PTSD shriek---tension, breathlessness, heart stop freeze---has subsided to a whisper. Still present if the memory arises, but not debilitating. Mending my wounded left wing was merely the beginning. The physical trauma rippled through my body in a cascade of grievous adjustments. This still touchy forearm forever a testament; the body keeps the score.
But what I am left with, the priceless message so unpleasantly conveyed, is like a sweet cream risen to the top. The teaching provided by this nosedive has been coming through all year and was underscored while camping this week. I spent many blissful hours on the earth pictured above. The meadow strewn with milkweed and butterflies, columbine, wind-blown grasses. The same exact place I came just after last year’s Big Fall. Needless to say, last year the substantial demands of camping were challenging. But I learned to slow way down and ask for help when in need. Willing to do anything to adapt just so I could be out in the wilds to nourish my aching heart and soul.
That year the familiar hikes to river, little meadow, swimming hole were leisure pace slow, carefully assessing the safety of every single foot landing. Scrambling over rocks morphed into a humble four-point crawl. Cooking was a tricky one arm affair. When my incredulous daughter asked if I was really going camping, I replied “It’s only one arm.” Which is now an inside family joke. This contemplative post-fall moment in Mama Sierra set a tone that reverberated all year.
In a nutshell? That slowing down in general, investing less effort, cultivating more ease keeps me healthy and thriving, doing what I love far better than struggle, strive, strain. Hurry and worry are red flags begging for attention. To be in that meadow again, notice all the ways I enjoy taking things slow and easy was a very affirming echo. I used to treat 12 patients a day. Now I treat one. I used to produce the dance scene here in Sacramento. Now I show up and teach on assigned dates. I used to offer weekly yoga classes. Now I’m up there when it fits my random schedule.
And this is the time of year all is absolutely the slowest. Excuse me while I go finish this library book that is due. The music for this Sunday’s Sweat Your Prayers is an invitation to let go, to let come, to let be. To drop any effort and cultivate full on ease. Throughout the wave. No matter what tempo the beat might imply. Let's take it easy together. And don’t wait for Sunday to take it easy. You could start that right now.
❤️Bella