“It isn't what happens to us that causes us to suffer; it's what we say to ourselves about what happens.” -Pema Chodron
2023 ended with a break. Two of them. On December 9, I hiked up a classic backcountry peak, Mt. Glory. After getting to a planned turn around spot, I put on my skis, took in the view and felt immense gratitude for all I am able to do thanks to my heart. Two turns into my ski down, I hit a rock, breaking both my tibia and fibula in my right leg. As I was falling, I could feel the breaking sensation. There was no pain, just the sensation of both bones fracturing under my own weight as I fell at an awkward angle.
Pain came a few minutes later as did anger and disbelief and then shock. I had skied this run so many times in my 20+ years of hiking Glory. And the rocks I have hit over the years without incident are too numerous to count. But on this day, with this rock, the timing was… dare I say it…. perfect.
I had been here before: a liminal space between what was and what is ahead. There’s wisdom in knowing there is no escaping good or hard times. Pema Chodron wrote an entire book about it. I’ve read that book several times, hoping her brilliance would rub off on me. However, the way I’ve been knit together, I am an experiential learner and being physically put in a time out via a broken leg is how I learn.
My mind went several places in the 10 minutes I had in this new liminal space before help arrived. I spent a few moments as a victim. Wasn’t a bad concussion (2018) and heart surgery (2021) enough for any one human? That state of mind did nothing for the pain so then I just started swearing out loud, “F*ck!!!!!!!” over and over. Then, I thought of my husband, Jason, and all he has helped me through with my heart as well as my dad and stepmom and friends. Guilt hit me like a tsunami. The guilt didn’t feel right as I told myself I didn’t do this on purpose, it was not my fault and that something great would come of it all. Ah ha! “Something great will come of this,” I said out loud through chattering teeth as I also screamed and then panicked. Actual physical shock was taking over and any ninja mental skills I had in that moment quickly left and I said a wish that the rock on which I was crumpled upon would swallow me whole. In and out of waves of pain, I just kept picturing the warm emergency room, even feeling the sheets and seeing compassionate nurses helping me as I felt my leg throb in my ski boot. “Help is coming,” I chattered. “Help is coming.” (The rest of the story is told here.)
In 2023, I had finally made it to the other side of the liminal space of heart surgery. It was a year to move forward with life. I had mostly physically recovered. Emotionally and mentally, I was completely on the other side of grief from losing my mom just after surgery. I launched my podcast, The Heart Chamber, on January 30, and I was invited to speak on the TEDx stage on November 4. I hadn’t taken time to fully process the gumption of it all until my “leg time out.”
I have been curious about freedom and what it really means to be free. In recent weeks of uncomfortable conversations during this time out, now I know. Several folks have said to me, “You aren’t missing much” in regard to the low snow year we are experiencing in the Rockies. I giggle to myself every time, knowing I don’t care either way. When a person said to me recently, “I bet you felt stupid when you broke your leg.” I pushed back and said no, I did not feel stupid. Or another person who insisted only bad things happen to me. I pushed back, firmly exclaiming my life is actually great and I just happen to have a healing (notice the reframe?) leg. The freedom from all of that shitty thinking and being able to push back and reject the negativity has only been gained through difficult challenges and spending time in the wisdom of no escape.
I am right where I need to be. I am at peace. All my needs are met. I feel proud of what I have accomplished despite what has been thrown at me. And when the next challenge arrives, I’ll be ready for something great on the other side.
your perspective on each situation you face makes my heart sing!
Beautiful. Grateful to be along for your journey. X's