Nine days ago I crashed on the bike.
The details of which remain as shattered as my eyeglass lens.
scattered by the side of a road,
are the innocent dreams of a man who the night before made fruit parfaits in wedding flutes.
Today, that man seems distant.
Not simply in terms of space or time,
not just through the fog of blood rushed to the brain.
but distant from the innocent aspirations which at once seemed so
easily within reach and now seem impossibly naïve.
The most simple tasks:
rising from a chair
flushing a toilet
spilling beans from the back of a fork
take great acts of mindfulness.
Sid Garza-Hillman writes in his book, “Approaching the Natural,”: When you make mindful, conscious choices for your own good, you eventually become somebody who takes care of herself. You also build self-confidence and self-esteem because by actually taking steps you send yourself the message that you have the power to change your own life.
After reading these sentences this morning I made the conscious choice to walk outside. The length of the walk was only a few steps. It was not the kind of physical activity that would ever appear on a training log. However, there I felt the earth come awake once again:
a breeze pushed around the trees and across my skin
the smell of budding June flowers
warm comfort of the morning sun.
There, once again, I felt the same sensations that have welcomed me on hundreds of morning runs and rides. While others slept, I have felt the earth turn on its axis with every sense God has given me.
Five days from now a plate will be put into my chest as bone, muscle, and tendons will be attached. This will mark the beginning of a physical recovery that will require months of healing. Yet, perhaps the full-healing process began today with a simple act of mindfulness.