Healing

I took this photo from my fire escape last Friday. Somehow the day ended with such beauty. Certainly one of the most extraordinary sunsets I’ve seen in a long while.

It’s been a strange month in these parts.  In just a few short weeks, my perspective has shifted drastically. The schemes of all things changed first with my father’s heart surgery (he is home and recovering well, thank you for all your well wishes) and, then, as I sat in traffic to visit him on his final day in the hospital, NPR news reported, calm and steady, about the tragedy at Sandy Hook and my own heart broke.

At that point, it seemed that all froze, and as life picks back up, I feel caught in a kind of delirium, stuck somewhere between hurt, anger, confusion, and deep gratitude for all I have.

Yesterday, after a night of sudden fever and a severe pain in my foot, I limped to the doctor to learn I had bruised a tendon and would have to be off of my feet until Saturday. My mind raced as I ran through all that needed to be done, the Christmas presents I haven’t bought, the wrap-up at work as we finalize all of our projects for the 2013 season, all the end-of-year parties I would miss, and then the frantic thought that there would be no major walking and certainly no running or biking until the new year (the new year?! I nearly shouted across the office of bunioned and heel-spurred elderly ladies who seemed to be welcoming me to their club.)

Well, you could put pressure on it and bruise it further, the Doctor said, or you could heal.

I reflect on that now, today. How natural it is to want to run forward, race through pain.  But how important it is to give ourselves the time and permission to heal.

***

On another healing note, I discovered this social media campaign #20Acts (later increased to #26Acts) started by my girl Ann Curry.  It started with this simple tweet from Ann (I like to think we’re on a first name basis):

Imagine if all of us committed to 20 mitvahs/acts of kindness to honor each child lost in Newtown. I’m in. If you are RT 

It’s as simple as that. And so 26 Acts of Kindness began.  Check it out.

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5 thoughts on “Healing

  1. i so agree that altho was want to race thru the pain, that's just not really how it works. you gotta walk thru it to get to the other side of it. well, in your case, don't walk thru it.

    xo

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  2. Glad your dad's okay!! And after reading your comment on my post I come over hear and it's all tears again. I can't express how much this has affected me. I love Ann Curry's idea.

    And I hope your foot heals quickly!

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  3. Beautiful. You are a writer because you observe and can see it all around you. And then you write about. So sorry about your foot. Do you need some books? 🙂 20 acts. IN!

    Like

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