I’m Practicing Self-Compassion
It’s been seven and a half months since my mountain biking accident. It’s embedded in my memory as a day that I’ll never forget, much like other huge events that I can still completely place myself in. I know exactly what I was wearing, and my senses are awakened to so much of the event, minus some details that I’ve played over and over in my head, trying to make sense of it all. Yet one thing I’m really at peace with is the fact that I never beat myself up about “how stupid I was” or how “inadequate” I must have been to have let this happen. I’m not sure the younger me would have had so much self-compassion or would have been as kind.
Should of Would Haves
I know that there are many things I could have done differently. If I had been more aware of what was ahead of me, instead of shouting for Joy after getting through 4 narrow cattle gate bridges and up a technical hill, I might have made different choices. I honestly didn’t think I’d ever go over the side of a mountain. I wasn’t that daredevil that did stupid things. I didn’t care about speed…I didn’t want to fly in the air off a jump or over a suspended wooden bridge…I just wanted to challenge myself and be safely connected to the trail. I specifically remember the tire going off the side and seeing a bush to my right. My immediate thought was “you’ll just fall over in the bush and be pissed that you scratched your new bike!” Yet, like most accidents, things happen so fast, and you almost leave your body for a moment in order to survive.
The Body Keeps Score
In all traumas of our life, our body holds a story. I know my body knows exactly what happened to me in those seconds that I flew over the handlebars, hit the steep hill with force and rolled and rolled to the bottom of the ravine. While I have no memory of the actual break of my Tibia and Fibula, my body holds that information. I know this from my education and knowledge of trauma, and from the re-experiencing of my leg trying to press and extend itself involuntarily while I lay in my hospital bed. I know there is still energy left in my body that yearns to be let out and be released. I’m getting closer to wanting the answers and to wanting to go back with EMDR myself to explore the missing links so my body can update the trauma response and know it’s not in fight and flight anymore. Of course, I know this cognitively, but I know my body needs this too.
Self-Compassion, Yoga, and Pilates
This past weekend I was able to walk up multiple hills and tolerated over 4 miles with my husband and dogs up in the hills of Avimore. My Tibia still barks at me and lets me know that it’s still healing. The first mile is always the worst. Yet I listen to it, and take care of it with a soak in the jacuzzi afterwards. I have graduated from PT, but my journey is far from over. I still practice my drills with the agility ladder as well as strength training exercises. I just got back into my Pilates studio and feel grounded and safe listening to my body and challenging the angles of my ankle in different positions as I push the carriage out or balance on one leg. I’m focusing on my breathing, mobility and stretching with Yin Yoga, and all the nutritional needs to help myself fully recover.
Gratitude
I’m still so filled with gratitude that I survived this event, and that I am here to live another day, and make an impact on others. This process has really required me to practice what I teach to my clients. In experiencing this, I know that I am a better therapist, and have more empathy for the struggle. I found a beautiful anklet bracelet that I will be requesting from my hubby for my upcoming Birthday. I wanted to wear something on my ankle to help cover the scar, but that also honored the wound, the strength of the fight, and the amazing spiritual experience that took place on that mountain. I will be adding a cross to represent my faith, a butterfly to represent my mother and father in heaven who I believed guided me down that mountain and helped me avoid 2 huge rock formations. I also want to add angel wings for the two physicians who were hiking behind me and took the time to stay, brace my ankle and keep me safe until the ropes and rescue team arrived. This symbolizes the Fall, the Fight, the Resilience, and the Self-Compassion I have endured, and will serve as a constant reminder of all that I am grateful for.
