One of my first "real" bosses once told me I needed to get one of my clients to shift her paradigm. I had no idea what that meant. He said, "she needs to see the ugly through eyes that see the beauty." In other words, the thinking needed to flip-flop.
If you have followed much of my blogging, you might notice I often reference my high school and college years. I do so, certainly not to relive the "glory days," but usually to hold myself accountable for the destruction that I did to myself during certain periods of life. And, hey. That's what life is. I think we all pick at our insecurities, dwell on our fails and fumbles, and do our best to move forward. I am no different. I was always a nice kid, I don't think I ruined anyone's life along the way to "finding myself," but I also got rid of a lot of vices at a young age in order to have the most (and best) opportunities without any sort of hold-back for good reason. I try to imagine what I would have been like if I had gone through 3 knee surgeries during some of my angsty years. Part of me thinks I wouldn't have cared at all. I likely would have neglected much of the healing process, used it as an excuse, and overcompensated. Part of me thinks I would have tried to offset it by making positive changes. I can't ever be sure. Timing is everything, right?
I recently heard someone say that we all need to stop "starting over." You know, like if you mess up on your diet and then just eat everything in the pantry because you'll start fresh the next day? Damnit, I ate three chocolate chips. I'll just eat the whole bag so that they're gone tomorrow and start fresh. Or if you have a hiccup in a relationship - you want a "clean slate?" I know that he/she cheated again, but if we can just start fresh in a new town/house/place, we can be fine. Maybe you tear your ACLs. You'll start fresh once everything is healed again. I think the person who said this was right. It's not really about starting over. I didn't start fresh when I began changing some of my behaviors and approaches. I just. Changed. Slowly.
Nothing was brand new or clean. The insecurities? The heartbreak? The roller coaster ride?
Uh hello. Shit still hits the fan. All those things don't just disappear. They just feel a little different and provoke a little different response. Despite having a general sunny disposition throughout this recovery, I have felt myself waiting for and waning toward the "fresh start" now and then. It's when the better eating begins. When life changes can happen. When I'll be better, do better, feel better. The perfect moment, so to speak.
Ya. We all know that doesn't exist. Oh, you didn't know? The perfect moment to start over doesn't exist.
Sorry for shattering the glass. Unicorns are real. Don't worry.
But really. There's always something on the horizon. Good, bad, ugly.
Last week my physical therapist told me I wouldn't be ready to jog within the next month if my extension didn't start improving. Excuse me? I have a timeline to uphold. I felt that same sense of panic. The insecurity. The anxiety of the perfect linear path being thrown off. I'm a planner, people. If the plan gets messed with, I don't like it. In college I would write my classes out a year in advance to ensure I would graduate early. I would schedule everything meticulously so that I could work simultaneously without any gaps in scheduling. I had notebooks, organizers, calendars, and post-it notes. Later in life, my boyfriends would challenge my mannerisms by booking trips at the last minute, over-committing, under-committing, and forgetting dates. To this day, I am still quite often the "organizer" in my friend group.
I may not jog within the timeline that I'm supposed to?! THE PLAN IS SCREWED.
I need like a Fantasy Football type update. "Probable for next Sunday." "Questionable for Week 14." "Maybe" and "we'll see" and "it depends" without days and dates and deadlines are all words and phrases that really throw my sync out of whack.
So how do I buck up and move forward?
I shift my paradigm.
I took an unexpected trip to see my Mony and Papa this past week. Disclaimer: I, of course, have the world's greatest parents, who I attribute 100% of my successes to and ZERO of my failures to. In addition, however, I also have a set of grandparents that I've grown up with as second parents that mean the world to me. No one is allowed to have any favorites, but they're mine. While Mony and Papa aren't young bucks, they are relatively fresh in the senior-living community. Life is life though, and Mony and Papa have their own set of struggles (yes, even people who have been married for 60 years have issues!)
Mony needed me to change a lightbulb in the garden but was afraid I couldn't because of my knee. Papa needed to take a rest and needed me to roam the aisles of Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the grocery store - could I manage that? During the tougher times, Mony would glide out to the living room with her walker, sit down, and I'd bring the walker back to the bedroom so Papa could take it out and join us. (If sharing a walker isn't true love, I'm stumped.)
Needless to say, I was needed. More specifically, my health was needed. It wasn't about my timeline, being off by a day, week, month, anything. I'm damn sure Mony and Papa have veered slightly from any proposed plan, yet they passed that walker back and forth like it was the salt shaker. They roll with the punches. My paradigm completely shifted. I was able-bodied as long as I was willing to view myself as that. Mony and Papa are able-bodied as long as they're gliding that shared walker along and asking for help in all the right places. Yet THEY were concerned about ME. My knee. Kinda like how I had been concerned about falling off schedule or not having all of the answers.How silly.
I don't want to start over at the end of this recovery. Hell, I'm not even sure there is an end to this recovery. It's like they say in addiction. We're all recovering from something. If life starts over at the end of every knee surgery, I've lost some MAJOR days of growth and experience. That's bananas! I don't want a fresh start. I want a continuous path full of moments. I don't know when I'll jog. I don't know when the exact "newness" is supposed to be. But maybe if I stop twiddling my thumbs and trying to figure it out, I can just enjoy the ride. Or the walk.
A pair of grandparents and a walker flipped the ugly into the beauty. Who knew?
If you have followed much of my blogging, you might notice I often reference my high school and college years. I do so, certainly not to relive the "glory days," but usually to hold myself accountable for the destruction that I did to myself during certain periods of life. And, hey. That's what life is. I think we all pick at our insecurities, dwell on our fails and fumbles, and do our best to move forward. I am no different. I was always a nice kid, I don't think I ruined anyone's life along the way to "finding myself," but I also got rid of a lot of vices at a young age in order to have the most (and best) opportunities without any sort of hold-back for good reason. I try to imagine what I would have been like if I had gone through 3 knee surgeries during some of my angsty years. Part of me thinks I wouldn't have cared at all. I likely would have neglected much of the healing process, used it as an excuse, and overcompensated. Part of me thinks I would have tried to offset it by making positive changes. I can't ever be sure. Timing is everything, right?
I recently heard someone say that we all need to stop "starting over." You know, like if you mess up on your diet and then just eat everything in the pantry because you'll start fresh the next day? Damnit, I ate three chocolate chips. I'll just eat the whole bag so that they're gone tomorrow and start fresh. Or if you have a hiccup in a relationship - you want a "clean slate?" I know that he/she cheated again, but if we can just start fresh in a new town/house/place, we can be fine. Maybe you tear your ACLs. You'll start fresh once everything is healed again. I think the person who said this was right. It's not really about starting over. I didn't start fresh when I began changing some of my behaviors and approaches. I just. Changed. Slowly.
Nothing was brand new or clean. The insecurities? The heartbreak? The roller coaster ride?
Uh hello. Shit still hits the fan. All those things don't just disappear. They just feel a little different and provoke a little different response. Despite having a general sunny disposition throughout this recovery, I have felt myself waiting for and waning toward the "fresh start" now and then. It's when the better eating begins. When life changes can happen. When I'll be better, do better, feel better. The perfect moment, so to speak.
Ya. We all know that doesn't exist. Oh, you didn't know? The perfect moment to start over doesn't exist.
Sorry for shattering the glass. Unicorns are real. Don't worry.
But really. There's always something on the horizon. Good, bad, ugly.
Last week my physical therapist told me I wouldn't be ready to jog within the next month if my extension didn't start improving. Excuse me? I have a timeline to uphold. I felt that same sense of panic. The insecurity. The anxiety of the perfect linear path being thrown off. I'm a planner, people. If the plan gets messed with, I don't like it. In college I would write my classes out a year in advance to ensure I would graduate early. I would schedule everything meticulously so that I could work simultaneously without any gaps in scheduling. I had notebooks, organizers, calendars, and post-it notes. Later in life, my boyfriends would challenge my mannerisms by booking trips at the last minute, over-committing, under-committing, and forgetting dates. To this day, I am still quite often the "organizer" in my friend group.
I may not jog within the timeline that I'm supposed to?! THE PLAN IS SCREWED.
I need like a Fantasy Football type update. "Probable for next Sunday." "Questionable for Week 14." "Maybe" and "we'll see" and "it depends" without days and dates and deadlines are all words and phrases that really throw my sync out of whack.
So how do I buck up and move forward?
I shift my paradigm.
I took an unexpected trip to see my Mony and Papa this past week. Disclaimer: I, of course, have the world's greatest parents, who I attribute 100% of my successes to and ZERO of my failures to. In addition, however, I also have a set of grandparents that I've grown up with as second parents that mean the world to me. No one is allowed to have any favorites, but they're mine. While Mony and Papa aren't young bucks, they are relatively fresh in the senior-living community. Life is life though, and Mony and Papa have their own set of struggles (yes, even people who have been married for 60 years have issues!)
Mony needed me to change a lightbulb in the garden but was afraid I couldn't because of my knee. Papa needed to take a rest and needed me to roam the aisles of Bed, Bath, and Beyond and the grocery store - could I manage that? During the tougher times, Mony would glide out to the living room with her walker, sit down, and I'd bring the walker back to the bedroom so Papa could take it out and join us. (If sharing a walker isn't true love, I'm stumped.)
Needless to say, I was needed. More specifically, my health was needed. It wasn't about my timeline, being off by a day, week, month, anything. I'm damn sure Mony and Papa have veered slightly from any proposed plan, yet they passed that walker back and forth like it was the salt shaker. They roll with the punches. My paradigm completely shifted. I was able-bodied as long as I was willing to view myself as that. Mony and Papa are able-bodied as long as they're gliding that shared walker along and asking for help in all the right places. Yet THEY were concerned about ME. My knee. Kinda like how I had been concerned about falling off schedule or not having all of the answers.How silly.
I don't want to start over at the end of this recovery. Hell, I'm not even sure there is an end to this recovery. It's like they say in addiction. We're all recovering from something. If life starts over at the end of every knee surgery, I've lost some MAJOR days of growth and experience. That's bananas! I don't want a fresh start. I want a continuous path full of moments. I don't know when I'll jog. I don't know when the exact "newness" is supposed to be. But maybe if I stop twiddling my thumbs and trying to figure it out, I can just enjoy the ride. Or the walk.
A pair of grandparents and a walker flipped the ugly into the beauty. Who knew?