I think this is a good sign. Today, when I told someone that I had a frozen shoulder, I said it so matter of fact like that I was surprised it was coming from my own being.
For several hours, I replayed the loop. Not just the words, but the energy behind them. No grief. There was no grief. Not a drop.
Six months ago, I was still doing handstands. 8 months ago, I was still teaching yoga. 3 years ago, I was still writing things that make sense. Consistently. I could sew. I could write. I could type without pain.
Fast forward to today. No yoga. Frozen shoulder. No handstands. Maybe never. Sewing hurts like you wouldn’t believe. I can’t knit. Crochet. Swim.
But, instead of looking at all the things I’ve lost, I’m looking at things differently. And not from a place of grief, but through the eyes of an explorer. What can I do? I have pain. I have fatigue. I have a bum arm. But what CAN I do.
I don’t know the answer to that question, but I’m ruminating on it.
Grief is gone. G-O-N-E. It might come back, but for right now, I’m an explorer. I might not channel Amelia Earhart or Dora, but for right now, that’s my new role. Tilling Mama. The explorer. Who am I now that I’m not all the things I once was? I’m on sabbatical. That’s all. Sabbatical.