Undone, Unwell, and Unexpected

Author’s note: This post was typed with one hand.

This November, I was supposed to be in India, traveling to Delhi, Jaipur, Agra, and Varanasi. 

Instead, for the first two weeks of November, I stayed home to recover and heal from the trauma and pain of cracking my bone into two pieces and undergoing arm surgery. 

I was told… 

“Maybe the universe was protecting you from something worse.”

“That sucks. That sucks. That sucks.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s temporary.”

“It could’ve been worse.”

For the first two weeks of November, I un-clawed my fingers from the plan I had envisioned for November and the near future. I half-assed my deep breathing, curled up in bed multiple times each day, and cried a lot. I continuously reminded myself that losing mobility of my dominant arm was inconvenient, and not permanently life-altering. 

After my surgery, I remember my Lyft driver saw my face and my arm in a cast and said, “Don’t let it take a toll on you. Don’t show it on your face. Leave it alone and let it heal. Live your life.”

In the past few weeks, I’ve consistently experienced some of the rawest pain, unwavering love, and surprising peace.

I’m trying to flood awareness to notice both the good experiences, the bad experiences, and the ones in between.

I’m forcing myself to breathe, even when I just want to hold my breath for an indefinite amount of time.

I’m trying to focus less on labeling an experience good or bad, and just find gratitude for all of it. Because in order to place gratitude on some of the greatest highs, I must find gratitude for some of the greatest lows too.

“If I were to say, “God, why me?” about the bad things, then I should have said, “God, why me?” about the good things that happened in my life.
– Arthur Ashe