A Mere Disappointment

...that I'm going to write about today.

I've been in my share of bike accidents.  I've been hit by a car while commuting home, and I've flipped over the handlebars while mountain biking...

In late August, 2022, on a beautiful day just strolling around the neighborhood, I fell off my bike. Hubby and I were on the sidewalk. I was looking down, rolled onto the grass for some reason, then tried to get back on the sidewalk (instead of braking and stepping off). Strong woman I am, I got up, then fainted (into my husband's arms), and after a rest, we walked our bikes home. I had lots of injuries we could see. These are from the next day: 

(Gross pics, I know... but now that I'm documenting it, I feel I can delete them from my phone.)

One injury showed up a week later when I had a stuffy nose... my left side (which still ached and I was still icing) somehow made my right side swell.

Sweet pic, huh? 😳

My right eye swelled up so much, the white was overtaking the blue... At the ER, we found out I had fractured my cheek bone and a nerve was "broken." I blamed the visor that had come off of my helmet when I fell. (Yes - of course I was wearing my helmet!) The ENT doc said there was nothing to be done. I just had to wait to see if it healed.

That same weekend, my partner-in-planning / teacher friend was in the ER - for the pain from her Trigeminal Neuralgia. This pain can be "suicide-inducing" says a website. She didn't come back to school due to the pain until after December 1 - a month and a half after surgery. So although I was going through my own disappointment due to my idiocy after years of bicycling (my pride was hurt because I'd been stupid), I could not complain. I was still at work, icing, hand wounds closing, bruises fading...

I'm writing today because I just finished this book:

 It's really got me thinking of soooo many things. I'll sum them up here.

The first is one of the last things she shared... "Disappointing things were not for the written word, disappointing things were for the stiff upper lip. Tragic things are for the written word, because in tragedy there is catharsis, not slow, incremental, almost invisible progress" (222). And I feel that the three bike accidents I've endured have been pretty traumatic, but this last one is one I had when I was 49... and it's taking me forever to heal. My right hand still doesn't always grip like it could, and the left side of my face still feels like it's coming out of being numbed at the dentist office. On headache days, like one I had when I checked out this book, it grows more pronounced, and I feel as if everyone can see the swelling on that side of my face in my crooked smile - they most likely cannot.

If I look CLOSELY, I can see I only have a slight asymmetry to my face - one side is swelled a teeny bit more, so that it actually looks like a deeper smile on my left side than on my right. My right side goes up more, but my left side looks chubbier, so my wrinkles/laugh lines are more pronounced. I don't have any reason to complain. The odd sensation is mine to live with, and it only bothers me when I've got a headache, or if I yell or sing too loudly. This year my left side - way more than my right - was affected by spring allergies. No biggie. And look at this - I'm writing and writing and writing... about something "disappointing," not tragic. Hmmm.

Other things I'd like to remember from this book:

• We show more emotion on our left side.
• "Portrait painters create life and interest in the face by creating asymmetry, rather than exact symmetry" (105). She explains that humans prefer symmetry, but our expressions tell more emotions in our asymmetry.
• "The nerve grows a millimeter a day" (139). 
• "You can always choose to smile, no matter what. It is always a choice to smile" (164) ~Lama Pema. The author shared this after she shared that many men tell women "smile for me," or "where's your smile?" if they're not smiling. It's like women need to submit to the man and show him she's comfortable with him. Um. No. We don't have to do that. I smile often without being "told" to anyway.
• "...lucky the lines on all our faces. Lucky the laugh lines and the smile lines especially; they signify mobility, duration, and joy" (208). Yes. Yes. Yes. We are so fortunate in so many ways. I'm glad I've got "crow's feet." I'm glad I've experienced so much joy to have these lines on my face. I'm so lucky, and I'm so grateful each day.
• She shares that she's "grown to love the syllables in the word maybe. Maybe healing is not linear. ... Maybe the long haul is longer than anticipated. Maybe a nap is in order. Maybe writing down your story helps. Maybe, outside your immediate field of vision, someone down the block is learning how to stand on one leg again..." (222). 

I'm documenting today, so that when I look back many years from now, I can see how much I've grown in my thoughts, and I can see if there's progress in the sensation in the left side of my face (I was never that fond of in the first place)... Isn't it a shame that our society puts so much emphasis on looks? Who decided certain faces were more "beautiful" than other faces? We perpetuate this in our social media posts, in our words when we compare or describe others. Hearing certain seventh grader boys call a seventh grade girl "ugly" hurts to my core. Those poor girls. They're beautiful - inside and out. Faces and hair... Many people of all ages are so vain due to what our society has deemed "pretty." And I'm not immune.

To those reading this: It doesn't matter what you look like. It matters what you DO. Do beautiful things: Be kind. Say kind things. Help others. Care for yourself. And write about WHATEVER - even mere disappointments.

Change Can = Growth

Change that is put upon me... stinks.

At this point in my life, I'm learning to embrace the challenge of change.

Since March 13, 2020, I feel as if I've lived with constant change. It's probably been much longer than that - isn't it true that "the only thing constant is change"??  (Heraclitus?) I just haven't been as aware of it.

Somewhere between February of 2021 and now I've learned that I need to breathe through changes put upon me. I need to slow down. I need to listen better. My life goes smoother when I actually apply this learning and DO the breathing, the slowing down, and the listening.

I fell off my bike on August 27 of this year.  My tooth was chipped (I got it fixed). My face was hurt (the sinus bone was fractured in four places, and the nerve attached is still affected). My hands were hurt (one is fine, the other is as good as it's going to get). My pride was hurt. My pride being hurt has changed to humility. I've learned a lot from that simple little fall.

When I look in the mirror and realize that my face looks normal, I'm surprised, and I'm reminded - again - that so many people hide (consciously or not) so much of what's happening or what's happened in their lives. We can't see all that people are going through. I wonder this about my students. What's behind their smiles? What are they going through that only they or their families know?

I've learned that I don't need to tell everyone about everything happening in my life. I've learned that it doesn't help me to complain about what hurts or what bothers me. I've learned that the latest fall (I've had a few that I've totally recovered from when I was younger) is part of the tapestry of my life. It's a jagged stitch that I can't fix. It's part of my story, should someone want to know it. It's helped me in ways, and I'm glad. 

It's helped me to slow down. Physically, I've been nervous about falling - anywhere - at any time. I fell on such an easy stretch on my bike - with no distractions - so I am now aware I can fall anywhere at any time. I'm much more conscious of where and how I walk. I don't jog anywhere anymore. I watch where - and how - I walk. I'm never on my phone while I'm walking. I hold rails when I'm on the stairs. I move over when there are too many people or it doesn't feel totally safe.

At first, I felt old doing these things. Being so cautious. I questioned whether I was "too cautious."

Now I know that it's okay. I'm 49 for one more month. I am getting older. I am realizing that it's okay to not go fast all the time. It's okay to take my time. It's actually beneficial for me to take my time. I'm not in any hurry to get older, nor am I in any hurry to hurt myself again, or hurt myself further.

This change in me has helped me realize I truly only need to do ONE thing at a time. 

I'm so thankful I can learn from my challenges. 

I wish this for my students. I wish this for my family and friends. I wish this for YOU.

And I hope I can continue to learn from challenges that come my way.

By the way... wear your helmet (I was and I do), and put on those biking gloves (next time).