My parents are en route from California for a quick visit tomorrow; they should arrive around 1:00 in the morning, and A is visiting her parents this weekend, so the day has been spent all to myself, something that hasn’t been done in quite a long while.
I thought, “Perhaps I’ll write.” And perhaps I shall. But I must admit that for most the day I’ve wasted multiple hours watching Call the Midwife on Netflix and done a little bit of cleaning. The cats and I have been snuggling, as well, as we await the visitation.
It’s difficult to find “entertainment” that reaches the heart, human beings showing all manner of love and its depths on screen in a way that does not ring false.
Last night in my dreams, I felt the experience of love many times. At one point, I found myself near the raging sea watching the merfolk, shimmering and terrifying, burst from the sea foam and onto dry land. A man stood near, an old seafarer as my guide; I asked him many questions and received the same answer, which I can’t recall.
One of the merpeople saw me and scaled the cliffs faster than anything I’ve ever seen, and I knew I ought to be scared of her and her rainbow scales and amphibian nature. But I thought to myself, “Try to be friends,” and told her, as she rounded on me, that I wouldn’t tell anyone that I saw her–this seemed very important. So she stopped and whispered to me, “I’ve always wanted to see what it’s like up here.” Another female mer appeared then, and pushed me back against the rocks, and held a gleaming scepter aloft. It shot off sparks into the sky, red ones, like a signal, and through I knew my life was probably in danger, I didn’t mind, because her motivation was not to hurt me but to protect her friend from harm if it were found out that she’d befriended a land creature.
I was in a meadow, in the dark, near a barn, and I went into it and it wasn’t a barn but a large house, and shared with another family. All at once, my teeth felt strange, and I knew they were coming out, but only on the bottom jaw. And suddenly, one came out, sliding out from my gums like frosting from a tube. Then another. Then 4 at once. And I was distressed. I ran to show them to others, but then realized they weren’t my teeth. I had all my teeth still–perhaps replaced? No, just because they came from my mouth meant nothing anymore. They belonged to an old man, a forest-traveler from Maine, which a wise woman informed me was a sacred gift indeed.
The dream changed, and I found myself in a funeral parlor filled with row upon row of empty caskets. The air was warm and peaceful. The room was made of a light brown wood. The undertaker was there, explaining to me that the caskets were there to receive the bodies of those who were done. He was kind and gentle about this, speaking with a reverence of and compassionate regard for the deceased. He said they always left their last possessions behind as a symbol of who they were. I began opening drawers–there were many, much more than the caskets. Each drawer contained at least one item, and it was these smaller ones I was interested in. Each item was tagged with the names of those who had left these symbols behind. The one I first looked at was a couple’s box–they’d died in a car accident, and left behind a turquoise ring. I took it from the box, touched by this ring as a symbol of their love, and put it on my own hand as a tribute to what they lost, so that their love might live on.
These sort of dreams are what I ponder when I have this free time. What do they ask of me? What am I being called to? How can I best serve the dreams? Such powerful messages and such tenderness, too. So many circles and cycles and careful wisdom meted out in perfect amounts to add up to what is needed.
Yesterday was our graduation ceremony at the center. I’m not sure of the exact number–around 11 or 12–of the girls who returned for celebration, but I taught all but one of them. Seeing the girls in their white caps and gowns, standing proud in their achievements, and seeing the joy on their faces as they spoke of the future moved me. These girls went from pushing back against success to grasping it firmly.
So sitting there was quite an emotional experience, and even more so after the ceremony when I spoke to a few of the girls individually. Two girls in particular surprised the pants off me, telling me that I helped them so much and how highly they regarded the time in my classes. These statements shocked me (and stirred me to tears) as my reputation here at the center is the “strict” one, with expectations that are “too much” and being known for “too much attitude,” etc. The two girls that spoke to me this way were some of my hardest “cases” if you will, but they were the ones to remember and hold to their admiration of me.
I’m not prideful about this. It’s instead caused me to become contemplative. Hopeful. Quiet.
It’s been about a year since I’d last seen them. And maybe that year, that time, that space from those we struggle with, is what’s needed for the pieces to click into place. Maybe it’s just a part of the cycle of life, the growing pains of maturity. Maybe the lesson isn’t so much about learning in the moment, but more about not discounting any experience and being able to retain the potential of each experience to use when the time is right.
Congratulations, graduates. All of you are amazing. And peace be with you.
My my my. It’s been nearly two years in Florida. The time’s passed so quickly. And about a year ago, it became evident that we’re not really cut out for this tropical life here in the Sunshine State. We thought, “Oregon’s the place!” and had everything lined up this past December–
But then life happened, and that dream evaporated faster than tailpipe exhaust in the sunshine.
We kept hoping, though, and I started applying to places not just all over the United States but also all over the globe. And gradually we narrowed it down to Kentucky and Missouri. After weeks and weeks of throwing in interviews, making follow-up calls, going through the licensing process, etc, I was recently offered a job in the Rolla, MO area which I happily accepted.
Now we’re selling things, trying to find a place to live from half the country away, and while it’s a bit surreal, it’s also exciting. I’m stoked to be returning to Missouri, a place that for some reason always calls back to me when I leave it. Maybe it’s because it’s the place where I had my first apartment, met A, attended the School of Metaphysics–it’s the place where I grew up into the person I am today.
Next week I’m deleting my Facebook so that I can spend more time doing what I actually love, blogging included. I get to teach a high school journalism class to the girls here, hopefully leaving one last impression on them on the importance of literacy in today’s world, get them to ask and answer the tough questions about living in this global village.
If I can touch just one life–then it’s worth it.
From Missouri to Florida and now back again.
But it’s not really full circle. I’m not nearly the same person I was two years ago. It’s more like life being an upward spiral, and I’ve gotten to the next loop. It feels great.
Hahaha, I feel clever titling this post “The Last Leg,” but oh well, no one likes someone who laughs at her own silly jokes. What’s a gal to do….
But I am now in the last part of my journey of non-weight-bearing stress. In ten days, I will (hopefully) be cleared to begin walking again, albeit in my boot brace. It seems as though the days are dragging, steadily but painfully slowly. Now it’s time to keep myself busy so that I don’t think too much about it. Sleep has flown again, and it’s difficult to be comfortable whilst tired, but what can one do.
I have noticed, however, that I am getting stronger. I can do more by myself and alone even while on crutches. For example, I made pasta today. Most simple of things, but I feel good that I did it. And yesterday I straightened the couch cover. Cheers, yes? These seemingly easy tasks give me the willpower to keep pushing on till the 25th.
I guess that means I have to start thinking about physical therapy soon, then. I hope they only recommend once per week, as that’s all I can do currently. Since I work an hour away, any therapy days will mean taking the entire day off, and I think that I can swing once per week, maybe twice if my boss is awesome, but she has limits, too. As does my vacation time, now that I think about it….
But oh well.
It will all work out.
In other news, well…not much. Today is Father’s Day, and my father and grandfather are both in the same place today as it’s Grandpa’s 80th birthday and my Western family has driven up to be with him. I shall call and express my love when it gets late enough here (time differences–don’t forget about them as they are vital to the attitudes of those whom you love).
AND I have just completed the first draft of a children’s book, the first in a series. A and I know that we are good writers, better than most out there that publish brightly colored pictures books and sell them at Barnes and Noble. Any thoughts for a good literary agent?
Blessings to you and yours.
Thursday the 29th was my four-week checkup after breaking my ankle. I took the day off work and nervously got ready, not knowing what was going to happen once the cast was off. We arrived early and were seen early (seriously, EVERY TIME. This particular Dr’s office operates like a dream) even though the waiting room was PACKED.
The girl started buzzing away at my cast and did a great job of it, slicing through the fiberglass like nothing. Then, she puled it away to reveal my way-too-skinny leg.
Obviously, there’s a part of every person that understands, “Hey, being in a cast encourages muscular atrophy.” But nothing could have prepared me for what my leg would like like. It’s impossible to theorize the feeling until the actual experience. I told a coworker later on, “Half of me is like those emo kids who wear skinny jeans and exist on cigarettes and pain.” I am and always have been quite fond of my calves. They are firm and toned and strong–but no more. *sigh*
However, Dr. K (as I shall henceforth call my orthopedic surgeon) took one look at the X-rays and pronounced them “fantastic!” He twisted my foot up and down, pressed all over my ankle and leg, asked, “Does that hurt?” and everything, remarkably. felt fine. He then instructed me to stay off it for another month and delivered the good news that I was ready for a boot.
They bring this thing in, and heavens, it’s heavy. Dr. K’s assistant showed me how to put it on and take it off, instructed me on proper times to wear and not wear it (no more plastic bags in the shower), etc. I may use this same boot when I am allowed to begin weight-bearing again, as a walking cast.
So here I am today, staring at this boot because I feel like a Transformer or Tron or some weird kind of cyborg. But if it helps, then that’s ok. I’m adjusting slowly to the new weight distribution, and it’s going along pretty well. That’s four weeks down, four more to go.
In 4 days, just 4 days, it will be a month since the ocean and I argued. Excellent. Since then, I’ve taken 7 showers and drank down nearly an entire container of vegan proteins. I’ve taken up crochet as of last night and am creating a (rather lumpy) scarf for my friend in England. The first row went well–my mother taught me how to make a simple chain when I was a little girl, and the technique came back easily enough. The second row, well, I somehow messed up. It’s as if I created the second row on top of the first row instead of alongside. Hmm. But I corrected the mistake and am working on the third row. If I keep up the current pace, I will complete this scarf by July ^_^. Perhaps by practicing more I shall speed it up a bit.
Anyway, in keeping track of my ankle this last week….yes, broken ankle is a pain, but livable at this point. Fascinating the things that I never before noticed, such as my bathroom doorway being so narrow. It’s a miracle I’ve remained upright whilst passing through. Crutches make everything more awkward in terms of spatial relationships. Also, I’ve been having some brief moments of pain in the ankle area, sharp twinges that don’t last too long but are concerning nonetheless. I remind myself that anything hurts when it’s remodeling itself and that it’s nothing I can’t bear to withstand. This attitude helps.
And I’ve once again found some peace of mind in Dr. Who episodes. There is a goodness and purity of heart in certain BBC shows, and Dr. Who is definitely one of those shows. Yesterday I watched Rose Tyler get sucked into a parallel universe and the Doctor weep. Then I saw Donna Noble take control of her depressing life and do amazing things like taking down Adipose Industries. If I’m going to be house-bound each weekend, I might as well fill my life with experiences of the heart and bravery.
In the next post, I’ll be talking again about Bob Jones University and GRACE. I completed an interview with the GRACE team a few weeks ago. *Deep breath.* Tears and peace.
I’m about to begin my third week of being in a cast. It’s been a trip so far. Just one week ago I was feeling nauseated, uncomfortable, weak, and emotional, but this past Tuesday, I woke up with energy. The Tylenol PM probably helped a lot. My wife picked some up for me on her way home from work so that I could maybe get some rest, and it worked like a dream. I’ve had to take it every night, but I cleared it with my doctor first.
Also last Tuesday, I met with my orthopedic surgeon to discuss my cast. My toes had been going numb and purplish, and I was experiencing a lot of soreness and aches in my leg. I wanted to make sure everything was ok. Admittedly, I was overly anxious. These thoughts kept going through my mind, “What if something’s wrong and it’s not healing right?” Emotionally, I was wrecked because of it, and I’m glad I made the extra appointment to see the doctor. He took off the cast (my leg was yellow and purple from the bruising–ick), took more X-rays, and recast it.
The X-rays set my mind at ease almost immediately as they showed that the dislocation of my bone was set back in place and showing healing. I’ve been able to relax now, knowing that, “Yes, it’s ok. Of course it’s ok.”
This past week I also completed a full work week again. It’s interesting. On the outside, everything looks fine, but doing small tasks is very tiring. I remember thinking, “Just put a cast on it, and everything will be ok,” but the healing process apparently takes a lot of energy. Every day, however, I feel better, and this is encouraging.
In 10 days I return to the orthopedist for more X-rays and possibly/probably another cast. He anticipates that I shan’t do any weight-bearing for another 4 weeks after that but thinks that a more comfortable splint may be applied at that time. I am stil nervous, but now more hopeful.
I’ve begun researching alternative therapies as well to speed healing, therapies that I can self-direct. For example, I do have a background in energy healing and have sent focused thought-Light energy to my body, specifically to my ankle. I have researched lucid dreaming for healing the body as well, finding resources as far back as ancient Egypt for healing through dreaming. I am determined to be active and assertive, at least in the power of my mind, so that I stop feeling so helpless. The truth is, I’m not helpless at all! This is truth that is good to consider daily. My power has not fled because of the state of my body. My power is real and always thriving inside my heart and mind.
In other news, I’ve decided to begin studying the life of Christ as revealed in the Biblical gospels. I’m not Christian any longer–wait, let me rephrase. I’m not ONLY Christian. I would say that I want to be more Christ-like, which is why I am beginning this project. Jesus of Nazareth who achieved Christhood makes me fall in love with spirit and goodness and truth, and I am eager to regain the sense of hope and peace that Christ brings. Even if I never go to church again (not likely, as I enjoy it in the right context) or embrace the institution of Christianity, I understand somewhere inside myself that the message of Christ is one for everyone.
About 11 days ago, I broke my ankle. Since then, I’ve gone through a lot of ups and downs, perhaps with today being the most emotional and a few days ago (6 days?) being the worst physically so far. Today, I’m home alone as my wife is at work, and I’m doing what I can to keep myself sane.
I want to keep a sort of log about this process. I’ve never broken anything before, and as far as breaks go, this apparently isn’t the worst one and may be one of the better breaks to have. However, it’s still really annoying and hard to deal with. I’m a healthy, independent, active person, and to sit here staring at walls and trying to keep my mind off worry is a lot harder than it might seem at first.
I go back to work on Monday. I tired going back LAST Monday, but it was bad–nearly being sick, hot, sweaty, clammy, chills, and fever. That’s what I get for trying to push myself. So I spent the last five days sitting back at home. Today and tomorrow, then I go back to the land of the living. I will have to make sure that I don’t push myself at all, that I let my students know what’s expected and then let them be while I grade papers and whatnot.
So. My body. I started off taking Tramadol and prescription Ibuprofen. Both of them made me nauseated, but the Ibuprofen far more so. Stopped taking that and started taking Aleve. After several days of feeling like I was going to have to throw up, I stopped taking the Tramadol. Now I have some pain and discomfort, but it’s a decent trade off. I also stopped taking the Aleve once it became clear it wasn’t keeping down the swelling and started last night with OTC Ibuprofen. The swelling has definitely subsided, but my pinky toe is still numb which I think is a problem, and I will need to call on Monday to make sure my cast doesn’t need to be adjusted.
Sleeping is really difficult right now. I have one option–one my back with my leg elevated. It is incredibly difficult to do this every night, and I cannot wait till my next appointment so that I can ask about sleeping on my side. I already tried, and it hurt, so it’ll be a few more sleepless nights, I guess, and that’s ok if it means my leg will heal faster.
My mom has been amazing, even from across the country. Yesterday a package arrived with all manner of holistic cures–Vit. C powder, Vegan Certified Meal Replacer full of great proteins, L-Glutamine for my stomach, and Curamin for pain. She offered to come out here and take care of me for a while, but I told her “no, thanks.” I think I’ll be ok.
The worst part right now is coping with my brain spinning round and round. But hopefully, after writing this all out, it’ll settle down a bit.
Does anyone out there have some advice that I could use?
I’m being vain today. I now fit into a size 12 again. This makes me happy. No longer am I an extra-large person. This is very exciting for me. :)
Equally as lovely is listening to my Meat Loaf CD. I love Jim Steinman’s music, and Meat Loaf delivers it so well. Good job, kids. Keep up the good work. Gotta love all that piano and power chords.
And now I am catching up on COSMOS episodes. Science, science, science! Glorious science! It has implications for me beyond what it might have for others. Learning about “neutrinos,” and loving it.