Who knew that bringing in the newspaper Monday morning would change my life. It was just an ordinary morning, arriving home from my daily dog walk and reaching into the newspaper receptacle as I do every morning. What looked like an innocent stack of leaves instantly turned into a sled on top of slick water once I stepped on them. They were still damp from periodic rains we’d experienced, much appreciated after our 7-month drought. Today, for some reason I lost my balance and toppled onto the street, twisting my ankle on the way down. Crack. There it was, loud and clear. And in that instant I fractured my fibula.
As a child I broke my ankle after falling off of somebody’s shoulder on the playground and lived in a white cast for weeks, I think. The only thing I remember about that experience was the extreme immediate pain and then total inconvenience for, what seemed like, an eternity.
This time, a boot stuffed with soft fleece and fastened by super Velcro will live on my lower right leg for 6-weeks. Can’t put any weight on it or drive for the duration. What a difference life can bring when living on one leg.
Our first floor has been rearranged. My bathroom is now downstairs and handicap equipped. The guest room is now my sleeping quarters and pants that can fit over a big boot have become my clothes of choice. Rugs have been rolled up. One slip on shoe with a rubber traction sole is all I can wear. Getting in and out of bed as well as on and off sofas and chairs are new challenges to be mastered. This boot is heavy and lugging it around over a broken ankle is not for the misty eyed. It’s a lead weight so I’m learning to flex my foot, charge my thigh and engage my core before lifting that leg. Who knew?
After day one I was convinced those nasty crutches were not my solution to getting around. So ingenuity had to prevail in a number of ways.
Aha! The rolling chair in my office could serve as a make-shift wheel chair with my left leg as the engine and my arms as the navigators. Multi-tasking is a must. So when I go to the kitchen I envision everything I’ll need for a meal, dump it on my lap and wheel to the counter. When I strategically position myself, I can stand up and reach 80% of what will be necessary for that meal. Sometimes a couple of chair trips will finish the task. Believe it or not, it exerts a lot of energy to stand up, sit down and motor around on one leg – all day. I’m “feeling the burn” as they say, in my left thigh and glutes as though I’m working through leg rotations in the gym. But on just one leg.
As a yoga practitioner for many years I understand correct body alignment and the need for stretching to avoid injury so I’ve figured out how to stretch my hamstrings and do hip openers. On both legs! Extra precaution is taken on my right side to keep my lower leg stabilized. But, surprise, I can also do thigh lifts so I’m not too weak when I get that leg back. I want this sucker off as soon as possible – with my knees, thighs and back aligned and intact!
Bathing is now mastered, while also keeping that durn right boot dry. Laundry was my new challenge today. My husband helper brought all the dirty clothes fit to be washed to the laundry room. The rest I can do! Wheel, stand, wheel, stand – load, unload and fold, slowly. In fact everything now is much slower. It takes twice as long to accomplish tasks I took for granted on two legs. As I write I’m sitting on our back deck enjoying a 50-degree, beautiful sunny day. All by myself I’m proud to say. How? Ha! Loaded everything I needed onto my lap grabbed my crutches and wheeled to the patio doors where I stood, lifted one wheel at a time over the runners and sat down on the other side. Whee! I have my chair outside and my crutches inside the door – just in case I happen to need them. Victory!
I’m learning that slowing down is not a bad thing. Reading for longer periods at a time is good for my brain. More frequent meditation is healthy for my soul. Taking late afternoon naps to restore energy used up in my daily motoring is refreshing. I’ve read that slowing down inspires creativity. It does.
I also have utter empathy and compassion for all the long-term disabled people whose lives were also changed in an instant. I’m lucky, in 6-weeks I’ll have two functioning legs again. Those people won’t. I’ll resume hiking, walking my dog, practicing yoga, enjoying water aerobics and driving my car again. Most of those people won’t. I feel accomplished when mastering new methods for mundane tasks. Their challenges far surpass mine. And yet those people often master extreme challenges exerting much more effort than I have to. I’m most fortunate.
Now, though, it’s time to maneuver back into the house, through the living-room, down the hall and into the laundry room to unload the washer and load the dryer. Wheel, navigate, stand. Wheel, stand. Wheel, stand. And this is day 4. But who’s counting?
The energy is electric and that’s infectious. But my sensibility and stimulation electrodes are on overload. We’ve been gone long enough for my innards to have slo—w—e–d down. I feel like a country girl taking on the big city again. I’m in ramp up mode, slowly adjusting to city sounds instead of chirping birds, crickets, and wildlife noises. My brain is speeding back up, but until my batteries recharge my nerves are on edge. And my soul screams for woods and solitude. And yet I love Boston as much as I ever had. It just takes some getting used to.
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Conjuring Awe
Posted in musings, spiritual, Uncategorized, tagged commentary, Health, new life experiences, observation, personal growth, reflection on June 27, 2026| Leave a Comment »
The few steps it took to walk from foyer through dining room to the back deck journeyed through a portal to a new dimension. An expansive view of the Long Island Sound filled my senses. The ocean was interrupted only by small pink granite islands plopped down in various spots, each one hosting an impressive residential house. The sky was so big and the air so salty that when I took one breath the stress of driving for 2 days in a cramped car melted away. That feeling of awe stayed with me for the duration of my week-long stay. At the time I didn’t realize that it was awe making me feel light and bright and open and so aware of being alive – lasting through hikes across marshes, bridges, over rocks, while exploring an island designated as a public wild life sanctuary and in my conversations with strangers who crossed my path everyday.
What was this magical sensation and why did it fill me up like air? For days I mulled over the phenomenon until synchronicity intervened, delivering this blog by Scott Barry Kaufman, a humanist psychologist I’d discovered a couple weeks ago. He called it awe and wrote that it can be conjured up at will in surprisingly easy ways. So I decided to test it and notice the little things on my morning walk as though I was looking at them for the first time, as a child would.
“That’s the whole instruction,“ he wrote, “You go for a walk — anywhere — but instead of walking to get your steps in or to grind through your mental to-do list, you walk to be surprised. You deliberately go looking for things that are bigger than you. The scale of an old tree. The architecture of a cloud. A kid noticing something you stopped noticing decades ago. The point isn’t to find something Instagram-worthy. It’s to let your attention widen past yourself for a few minutes.”
It works! Trees and underbrush I’ve walked past dozens of times in my neighborhood suddenly came alive in ways I hadn’t recognized until I stopped to consider the surprise of them.
A skinny vine winding its way up a tree made me realize that it’s actually a parasite sharing the tree’s nutrients that can ultimately lead to the tree’s demise if it gets full enough and grows long enough.
The little suckers, babies, trying to be branches growing on the side of mature, established trees. Will they survive?
Look at this young sprout striving to grow, and somehow thinking a suitable place will be inside a dead tree stump. How long will it last growing there? Did longevity even matter to this hopeful plant? Doesn’t everything consider survival as a pre-condition to growth or is growth alone the only consideration?
Did you ever notice all the different barks on trees co-existing in close proximity? Oak, Maple, Evergreens – all living together, sharing the soil and sunlight. Made me wonder how we humans can take lessons from nature to co-exist – and thrive- even with our differences.
Fractal geometry at play, the language of nature and propagation. Trees and shrubs and plants of the same species grow millions of leaves shaped the same way. They efficiently distribute resources to every cell with minimal physical space and energy. In fact human circulatory, respiratory and neurological networks are fractals too. Nature is amazing with no written rules!
Evidently the drive to grow and live is strong enough to allow a little seed to propagate between the curb and the street. How big will it get, if allowed to stay?
And the beautiful Mimosa tree, considered a nuisance tree to gardeners but to me its beauty is to be appreciated and the scent is intoxicating. How can a “nuisance” be so wonderful in many ways?
I came home filled with awe, surprised that such mundane things, seen everyday, could be so amazing. So yes, Dr. Scott Barry Kaufman is right. We call all conjure up awe, regularly. Try it! It’s utterly gratifying.
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