My Spring this year will be a time of healing. I had a nasty ski accident a few weeks ago. Totally busted my knee to the point where I need surgery. Good grief!
I felt the pop in my left knee right before I took a nose dive into a snow bank. But I was determined not to ruin Richard and my friend’s day on the slopes so I got up and said, “I’m fine. Let’s go back up the mountain.” Fateful words. He helped me stand back up and I felt a ripple of nausea somewhere from deep within my belly. I ignored it. Hopped on the chair lift with my man. I cringe now at the thought of sitting on that chair lift, my knee probably already trashed. “My knee wouldn’t give out!” I thought to myself. “No way. I’m an excellent skier, right? That pop I felt must have been just my knee cap readjusting. Surely that must be what’s up. My body wouldn’t do this to me, especially not when it begs me to speed down these mountainous hills, feeling the rush of the wind and the snow.” At the top, I rode off the chair lift warily. We met up with our friends and started down the Blue run (not the easiest, but nothing crazy). Richard looked at me cautiously, “You sure you’re knee is okay?”. I smiled, “yeah, I think I’m good.”
I cut to the right on my right leg and then began my left turn and… crash, stumble, pop, pop, crunch, pop. Down I went again. My second fall, and I was again face planted in the snow, my left ski twisted backwards up toward the sky, my knee stabbing in pain that was radiating up and down my body –, I let out a blood curdling wail. Richard skied up next to me. I breathed. I moaned, “Baby, we gotta get me off the mountain.” Inside my brain I scolded myself. I was to blame. My body told me very clearly after the first fall that something was wrong. But I’m a stubborn girl, or as my father used to say, “She’s not stubborn. She’s determined as hell.”
Laying there in the snow. It was irrefutable: my knee was gone. But here came my pride again, my ego, my “determination.” Richard said, “Let’s call ski patrol”. I told him, no, I will ski down on one leg. So, I slowly stood up with his help and a second ripple of nausea came over me. Usually when I get nauseous it is something from the environment that has made me sick. No, this queasiness came deep from within. My bones and ligaments and tendons were telling me, again, that I just had to stop. I started to ski down the mountain on one ski! I know! Insane! In my defense I went super slow, 10 minutes of silly backward and forward, backward and forward, 5 feet at a time. Of course, I lost control. Crash down I went one final nauseating time, left leg twisted behind me. I swear I felt like my left leg was a transformer completing a self destruct cycle with nuts and bolts and sinew exploding all over the slopes. It felt like there was no knee left in my knee, just air and space and pain.
I spend every single day listening to my body, but that day, I just did not want to hear what she had to say. I didn’t want to hear her when she said STOP.
Richard called up the ski patrol and I was taken off the mountain. My “determination” overruled the clear and loud voice of my body. She told me the first time I fell to “get off the mountain something is wrong”. I denied her repeatedly until there was no more bullying her. She was broken. And I broke her.
Through S Factor, I teach embodiment and sensual movement. That is what I do! I teach listening to the voice of the body and obeying that voice. And yet, there I was, doing exactly the opposite of what I teach!
It turns out there’s no such thing as a finish line in this embodiment work. It’s a daily, moment by moment effort. And it’s hard. I’m living proof of it. Truly living a feminine body-led life is a forever pattern changing challenge. Allowing the voice of your body to be heard above the loud noise of ego and peer pressure and “determination” feels at this moment to be a herculean undertaking. It’s so simple and yet here I am on crutches, a week after knee surgery. If it were so easy, we would all be exactly where we dream of being. We would be effortless and in grace in our bodies and lives. I am humbled yet again as I stare down the path of a long recovery and rehab. I cannot afford to ignore the voice of my body anymore. I cannot pretend that my ego knows what my body knows better. I surrender to her wisdom once again. Another painful reminder, and yet, I am grateful for her speaking up. I hear her again, my inner voice. I will walk like Bambi on a new leg for a bit, but at the end of this next road, I will be even more connected, once again, to my body.
So, this spring, if you hear the whispers of wisdom from your body about how to live, what to eat, where to go and what to do there, learn from me and please, listen. Let this Spring be the blossoming of a new kind of intelligence sprouting in your bodymind.
Spring is the season of rebirth and opening up – this month, Winter is coming to an end and we are starting to see the first glimpses of Spring. How do you make room for rebirth in your body and therefore in your life? Was there a time when you felt like you were coming out of a dark, Wintery period in your life and then you welcomed rebirth, brightness, and Spring into your body and your world?
I would love to hear your comments and thoughts. Please leave a message beauty xo Sheila