Rest

We learn the lessons we need when we need them most. I thought my days of injury were over. I've felt as though I've remedied the pattern of getting hurt - it's a thing of the past, an idiosyncrasy of my childhood. No more ace bandages, no more casts; instead, an abundance of activity, happiness, movement in yoga, and freedom. But I know I move too fast, often too fast for my body to keep up and it's funny to me to think that I've thought myself invincible to injury. Certainly I can heal myself, yet the initial strike of pain hasn't lost the potential to assert itself. I've been moving too fast, my feet not steady enough on the ground, my balance just a little off. Now, with a fractured hand, I've been given the opportunity to slow down. Just a few minutes ago as I was doing dishes using one hand - my left hand at that - I found myself thinking how I've been forced to move with a greater degree of thought and consideration. Everything takes me twice as long and performing tasks with my non-dominant hand has obligated me to do so mindfully. Autopilot has been deactivated, and now I have to think. There is nothing like pain to get you right back in your body, as it serves as a reminder to pay attention, to listen, and, most importantly, to be kind and gentle with yourself. We must occupy our bodies fully to experience what they are trying to communicate with us, and this communication often comes in the form of pain. I'm learning what it means to rest.