“The real work you have to do is in the privacy of your own heart. All of the external forms are lovely, but the real work is your inner connection.” - Ram Dass
I have a confession: I didn’t camp this summer. Not one single night. My hands kinda shake admitting this to the Universe that is the Internet. I live in a community that values finish lines, summits, and number of nights out on epic adventures. Therefore, for me to openly admit that I had zero adventures puts me at risk of… judgement, of not living up to expectations, and admitting that life is just different (for now).
One of the gifts of having lived through open-heart surgery is the perspective I gained which cannot be learned from a book or bought in a store. Every heart patient I’ve had the privilege of interviewing says the same thing. The ones that have done the inner work have a peace I’ve yet to experience in any other human I’ve met in this life. Those who haven’t done the work are vacant, void of joy. Usually, those folks admit they’ve tried to not think about the trauma and just get on with life as if nothing happened.
Unsolicited advice: I’m here to tell you that not facing any of your trauma or pain will not serve you and will void any pleasure in your life.
Heart surgery was off script for me and threw me into the Marianas Trench of inner work. Prior to my diagnosis in 2020, I had a promising career as a ski instructor as well as running my own educational services business in my community. Life was exactly how I wanted it to look to the outside world. I was in shape, happy and even content. Jason and I had settled into our dream home (where we still live and are so very grateful), and we seemingly had it all.
Then, we were forced off script and have been ever since. That’s life with multiple congenital heart defects. (I can see all the CHD buddies nodding their heads in my mind’s eye)
What no one prepared me for were the downstream effects. Shall we say domino effect? The physical fallout that I didn’t receive education about when I was first diagnosed. The yearly testing which means budgeting for thousands of dollars as it’s always subject to deductible. Diet changes. Body changes from surgery (when do I let go of my size 2 jeans?). Exercise intolerance. Hormonal changes that affect the heart. More difficult to travel as I just don’t have the stamina that I did before. And the question of… do I have a shortened lifespan? Likely but no one has dared to go there.
Carrying around these question marks in my mind on a daily basis has driven me to live more in the present moment and just do the next right thing for my heart and my health. I’ve chosen to stay off script and it is serving me well.
I giggle every single morning because I start the day with loose plans and responsibilities and then life brings me all the right people and experiences at the right times. Every. Single. Day.
I am living in a world of abundance and magical meetings where what once was a hobby has become my career/calling: my podcast, Open Heart Surgery with Boots. When folks think about abundance, money is usually what comes up first. For me, abundance equals number of hearts I’ve helped which is starting to grow exponentially. And, it’s because I have refused to stay on script.
I was supposed to be a ski instructor. A reading interventionist. An athlete.
Instead, I give other heart patients a voice. I give them a place to feel seen, heard and validated. All while I make new heart buddies around the globe and connect non-profit organizations on behalf of hearts everywhere.
This is all because I finally laid down who I once was before surgery and truly grieved the shit storm that’s been my experience. And now that I’ve laid it all the way down, I’ve likely saved my heart for a while longer.
My heart wasn’t doing too great in June and neither was I. I set some super stupid, unrealistic goals for myself aiming for an actual summit that is just too tall and far for my heart and leg this year. In the process of “training,” I redlined my heart and found myself in front of doctors and nurses and an echo machine.
Again, I was forced off script. But this time, I listened, lamented and pivoted and focused on the magic and the miracle that is just simply waking up in the morning.
And instead… I learned how to operate an excavator,
I found my inner Picaso,
helped finish our Quonset next door,
And focused on making my podcast 1% better every day.
I also slowly rode my mountain bike, hung out with friends, saw really great music, grew the biggest rhubarb in all of Teton Valley, dodged hummingbirds on my patio, and took long evening walks with Jason, the dogs and the cats.
Honestly, I grieve that we didn’t go on any adventures in our van this summer, yet I am at peace that I chose to love on my heart and stay off script because what once seemed on script was void of what it means to truly live from and for my heart.
And besides …
I never would have learned how to operate an excavator.