I was up at 3:00 AM this morning, absolutely incapable of sleep.
I lay still another hour before restlessly hobbling down the stairs. I stood aimlessly in the shadows between dusk and dawn for an eternity.
I’m up. What now?
The dogs got fed at 4:00 AM. They didn’t seem to mind.
I returned to bed.
Twenty minutes or so later I was up for good. I hobbled down the stairs yet again. I opened the front and back doors, did some dishes, sat down on the couch in the living room and sighed.
There is at least one time every single day that I need to remind myself of what I can do as opposed to what I used to be able to do and can’t anymore (for the time being). I sat down, forgetting my own lesson, exhausted by the simple thought.
In the past, when I couldn’t sleep like this, I would run.
There were tears. Lots of them.
I came back to the moment.
I CAN run, though not like before. Still, I CAN run.
Except I am teaching two Zumba classes today.
I wiped the tear from my eye, and opened my computer. Before the parasite, that wouldn’t have stopped me from running all morning.
I needed help.
I put “Inspirational quotes” in the subject line. I searched, clicked on a link, then searched for Paulo Coelho quotes in a separate tab. I clicked, and up popped the words I was having a hard time manifesting by myself.
First page. First quote.
One day, in retrospect, the years of struggle will strike you as the most beautiful.”
Why not make one day into today?
The beauty of being in so much pain…
The beauty of a visible hobble…
The beauty of learning to walk a second time.
The beauty of being challenged in a way I never imagined.
The beauty of sharing my story with people all over the country and hopefully inspiring them.
The beauty of beating the odds, overcoming certain defeat and simply living.
The beauty of being capable with just 5 1/2 months of post hospital time under my belt to teach TWO Zumba classes today.
I went to the site with Paulo Coelho’s inspirational quotes. This one nearly slapped me in the face.
Don’t allow your mind to tell your heart what to do. The mind gives up easily”
Recovery is possible. My heart tells me so.
Doctors told me no. Random observers told me no.
My mind tried to tell me no.
It tried in the hospital.
It tried during physical therapy.
It tried when I learned to walk again.
It tried when I decided I’d run again.
It tried while I learned to put socks back on my own feet.
It tried when I decided to ditch my wheel chair and walk out on my walker.
It tried when I chose to start Zumba.
I tried when I considered running on a treadmill the first time.
It tried when I decided to return to Zumba class after only finishing two songs the class before.
It tried the first time I fell.
It tried this morning when I slipped and busted my lip on the bathroom floor.
No handy landy. :/
As long as I keep it open and learning, and refuse to give it reign over possible/impossible, can/cannot in an intelligent (for me) manner, my mind cannot interfere with my heart’s desires. I want to wake up next summer, throw on my Five Fingers and go for a ten mile morning jog through dense foliage; the plants tickling and slapping my shins with each stride.
I will be running double digits by the summer. My heart tells me so.
Maybe not this summer, but maybe this summer.
Probably next summer.
If I’d listened to my mind when I almost fell on running step number 20, I would never have run the Dirty Girl 5K.
If I’d listened to my mind when I fell the first time in Zumba, I would not be teaching now.
If I’d listened to my mind the first time I broke into tears during yoga, I wouldn’t be able to cross my shins nor touch my toes comfortably.
Paulo and Sigmund, thanks for the words of wisdom.
You brought me back to the day, back to reality, back to appreciation for what I CAN AND WILL BE ABLE TO DO.
My heart says I will recover.