The most unbelievable thing happened to me this morning. I realized I was standing, while waiting for my second cup of coffee to brew. I don’t mean I was standing, I mean I was actually standing. Not only was there a cup before this one, there is a story that precedes it as well.
I hurt my hamstring and wrote about it in my last entry. I also decided that this full on disruption of my life was going to warrant some attention on the page. I have pretty much shut my life down, dealing with mind blowing pain and the realization that I needed to let my body heal. However, my leg is not all that interesting, but it is amazing what’s happened to my mind, now that I’ve pretty much immobilized my body.
I’ve been sitting on the Zen cushion, most every morning, for around 25 years. I think I’m a pretty lousy practitioner, but I’ve never considered getting good at, whatever that means. I realized for the past seven days, stillness has been my companion, untethering my mind to move around with complete freedom, not bothered by the usual physical constraints. It has quickly become its own kind of meditation.
In deciding to write about this experience, I realized it requires a serialized approach, otherwise I’d have to go back to the beginning each time, stuck in a revolving door and never getting out. I wouldn’t ever get beyond how I hurt myself and I’d lose you pretty fast. Unfortunately, you’ll have to read the last one to appreciate the next one. I’ll do what I can to keep you entertained.
Pretty much everything has come to a screeching halt. It is a weird kind of “time out”. I have been unable to think about the possibility of re-entry until that cup of coffee. I had PT yesterday and if you have ever had the pleasure, you understand the pain of healing and strengthening is the only ticket you get punched on this ride.
Apparently, my leg does not require the same amount of sleep as the rest of me, because it keeps waking me up during the night. I gave up by around 5:30A and made my way to the kitchen counter. I quickly put together the cup and filter, grabbed the coffee out of the fridge, but was unable to wait for the water to boil. I focused my full attention on the soft couch about fifteen feet away. I made it before that too familiar pain wrapped my thigh in barbed wire one more time.
The pre-dawn coffee raid turned into a mini-Bridge on the River Kwai endurance test of will. I just couldn’t get the explosives under the bridge in time, seeking the safety of the couch before the train came. In the true spirit of the hero, I decided I was worthy of a second cup and was willing to risk the prospect of a botched effort yet again. Having limited time on my feet, it is important to have a well thought out strategy each time you leave the bed. I followed the plan exactly as before and waited for the water to boil. I realized I was still standing and I can’t describe how overjoyed I was at that stunning moment. I got to blow up the goddamn bridge.
I have become my own personal Storm Trooper, not letting me get out of line even for a second. In the initial days of any acute injury, getting better is a ridiculous idea and the overriding concern, at least for me, is not getting worse. It’s like I became riveted on my hamstring, lending it the rest of my body, all my energy. The miracle of that second cup has made me into a wild man today, doing things like washing a dish, combing my hair, even trimming my beard. I am pretty sure I have even stood for nearly sixty-seconds without feeling pain and done it more than once. For brief moments, walking even feels very familiar. i want to share my gratitude with my leg, but need to be very respectful at this delicate time.
I know I didn’t wait long enough for the coffee to become coffee, but I swiped that cup off the kitchen counter and almost gracefully came back to my bed, the only world I’ve known for a week now. I was just sitting, OK, not just sitting there. My leg is always on top of three pillows and it is either wrapped or iced at all times. Sipping that cup of triumph, I realized what an unusual experience this has been so far. The stillness of my body has triggered my mind. I think about using this as an opportunity to re-enter the world, changed by this “time out.”
I am sitting on my ass and doing absolutely nothing, but you have busy lives and I appreciate your taking the time to listen. Don’t make me keep repeating how i hurt my leg. Thank you.