You may or may not know from some of my social media posts recently, that I broke my wrist quite badly on July 11th of this year. That’s exactly 117 days of deep, ongoing learning and I’m feeling exhausted.
Clearly I won’t forget that day.
The result of falling backward onto my left wrist was a severe break. One that required two plates, one on top and one under my wrist, a pin and a rod. My arm at the time, looked like a shark attack and there might still be another operation to come.
I was roller skating, which I’ve thought ever since, is a kind of cool way to injure oneself. I mean, I didn’t trip over my own feet or fall over an uneven sidewalk, I was doing something fun at least.
My roller skating escapade definitely makes for a good story, and each of us have our own, many way worse than mine, but what I’ve learnt is that the story doesn’t matter...what matters is the learning behind any circumstance that might force us to grow. That’s what gives us the real opportunity. I am grateful that my injury for the most part, will heal, I know I am lucky. I know that things could have been much worse for me, and I hold on to that during my learning.
I remember when it happened I was so calm.
I remember straight away wanting to show my sons how to manage shock and fear. I wanted to be an example of brave and I wanted them to see how to ’be’ in times of uncertainty, pain and fear. When I think back to those moments I think of myself as brave and amazing...so much love for my sons that I would lead by example in a moment of anguish...but I haven’t felt brave or amazing since then. My strength dwindled quickly about an hour or two after hospital admission, when we all realised that I needed Orthopedic trauma surgery to attempt to fix what had happened. I wasn’t simply leaving with a cast that would be removed after six weeks of no swimming. I felt so scared and had a million thoughts running through my head. I was in panic.
The actual hospital stay and subsequent weekly visits, might have traumatised me the most, which could be a post for another time, but suffice to say I’m still unpacking that experience.
It’s taken me all of those 117 days to sit and write anything that isn’t too self-indulgent. Maybe that means I’m making progress?
Writing with self indulgence and self pity is not my intention here, however forgive me if I occasionally lean into that, because this road has be hard, deep and wide and I’m still learning to feel ok again.
My greatest hope is that anyone who has endured or is enduring trauma, be it physical, emotional or spiritual, might feel some comfort reading my words.
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So there is an art to healing, right?
In truth, I believe there is an art to anything that requires acceptance, focus, thought, consideration, creativity of mind and deed, reflection, and solution.
For me, I’ve had to find that art, firstly in the acceptance of the physical and emotional trauma I’ve endured from this injury. My biggest job right now is to accept, that for me, this is not just a wrist break. It’s much deeper than cuts, and bones and casts and stitches and expectations...and that it’s ok to still be working it all out.
One thing I did unpack with some success recently, is that with any kind of trauma, inside those moments of the deepest pain, us humans only need one thing. Connection.
We need moments with others that support us in the knowing, that being sad is ok and that being messy is part of normal. Trauma of any kind takes time to heal and we cannot put time frames on its resolution, no matter how much we want it all to go away.
Have you seen the movie Inside Out?...Where Bing Bong (Riley’s the eight year old’s imaginary friend) realises he will eventually be gone from her mind as she grows older. She’ll stop remembering him and that makes him sad. He sits down on a cliff that represents the edge of Rileys forgotten memory, in deep sadness. Joy, the character that plays the emotion of joy, dances around him as he cries tears of lollies not water (I love animated movies) and tells him that life is wonderful and she offers smiles and happy sentiment. This makes Bing Bong feel no different. Then Sadness (who plays the emotion of guess what, sadness) comes and sits down next to Bing Bong, and says something similar to, “I understand, that must feel terrible.” ...and “I feel like that sometimes too.” In that moment when Sadness ‘allows’ Bing Bong to feel his pain, he finds a glimmer of his own resolve and his tears (Lollies) stop. That’s connection, and in that moment, the art of healing happens.
As Ram Dass says “We’re all just walking each other home.”
Actually allowing pain to surface is one thing, and it’s a powerful thing, but sharing it with someone who cares, offers the unique opportunity to release and grow through it in a much more powerful way. I like the sound of that because it’s infused with hope, my favourite emotion.
So when you’re not ok, like me, right now, don’t be too afraid. Find comfort in knowing that this is when you need connection. So find it if you can, reach out for it and allow yourself the space to be cared for. No matter how emotionally messy you might be, with the right people, you will be heard, loved and held.
Thank you for reading.
I dedicate this post to Shelley, my Hand Therapist and one of my life teachers. X