No shit! There I was...
Right there in the middle of filming, when I re-tore my meniscus that I've been nursing for a year, and displaced my right knee. Again. All it took was one dumb little skirt-pop. Just a flick of my foot and CRUNCH!
I will finally get to see my Ortho on Thursday, and I'm hoping he'll schedule another MRI so we can make an educated decision on if I really do need surgery. (Personally, I'd rather go for other options that we'll be discussing sooooon...)
In the meanwhile...
It has occurred to me that I get to fully and truly test-drive the soundness of this new dance drill I created last summer after all that PT. It also occurs to me that perhaps this is why the Universe has deemed to throw a monkey wrench into the works every time I attempt to film this drill: because it's been waiting for this moment.
This perspective and approach.
The same is very true with filming the dance that accompanies it: Earth Dance. Apparently I need to go deeper in order to truly comprehend what it is that I choreographed.
I refuse to believe it's because I'm "Not Supposed To." Anybody who is on my FB may have noticed my...ahem...moment. You know that moment. When the denial you've been nursing along with a bum leg comes crashing down into forced acceptance. The temporary despair. The moment when you just have to tap out for a second, be pissed off, grievously mournful over the loss and decades of frustration, and go curl up alone in the back of the cave, hissing and crying.
I did a FB Live of that moment--yes, me!--right after it happened. Like, I was still in costume, right there on the floor in my studio.
Because the journey with me isn't some glamorous dream-job full of dream-destinations and dream-dances in dream-tassels-and-fringe with never a bad day or single solitary problem!
It's the very real story of living with several chronic conditions that constantly get in the way of all the groovy stuff I'd really like to be doing--and I how I jerry-rig my life so I can do them anyway.
OR IS IT...?!
A day-and-a-half after I got knocked on my tuckuss, I found out that I had been awarded a scholarship to a big women's retreat in Spain. Perusing their site amidst application was like being a kid in a costume store. The location, the themes, the kinds of women who gave the testimonials, the very photos and words they chose to represent what they were offering...all I could think was, "You mean this community already exists? I won't have to build it from scratch from the ground up? Fuck Yes!"
Well, apparently they thought I belong, too, and now I'm on me arse, arrrrrrgh! When I wrote to the retreat organizer to say I couldn't come, she sent me back two videos links and the assurance that, if a miracle occurred, my spot would be waiting. I followed the first link - a video on Dr. Joe Dispenza's You Are the Placebo. I watched the video. I then meditated for 3 hours to the ethereal music that "just happened" to come on right after.
I woke up the next morning with minimal swelling and no sedentary pain.
Hmmmm...you know, the last time I did this with this type of intensity was after my first big car wreck when I envisioned the healing of my body every night in the bathtub while listening to B-Tribe's Sensual Sensual album.
And it worked.
I know waaaaay more about this stuff now and I've been practicing for two decades.
So I got out my anal-retentive powerpoint skillz and followed the self-dissecting advice recommended in the video. I listened to the whole talk again and redid the meditation, now armed with the specifics I had learned in the laboratory of my mirror.
In the afternoon, I went to a new chiropractor because every other one I called "just happened" to be on vacation. I wound up directed to the doc who treats all my BJJ and cage-fighting buddies. This guy also "just happens" to be the sports med chiropractor for all the little AR Razorbacks-in-the-Making. (Football is a reeeeeally big deal in these here parts.)
Ummm...yeah. I went in pogo-sticking behind my mom's old walker.
I came out hobbling. :D
This morning, I one-stepped up the stairs instead of butt-sliding, and I'm now walking in sloooooooooow mooooooooo with hand holds, instead of being a pirate without a peg-leg or rolling around on my chair.
(Gotta admit, I still roll across the kitchen just for fun. And whenever I'm carrying liquid. I'm not THAT good yet.)
So suddenly I find myself having to put my money where my mouth is. There in my meditation space: "Ohhhhhh, if a miracle occurs I will absolutely take advantage of this scholarship, even though it will still cost me gobs of money. I don't care. I KNOW that if I go, it will pay for itself in the connections I make and the things I learn and the life changes that will occur as a result, so if I can heal this leg enough to go then I'm going to reward myself! So say I, in gratitude and glitter!"
What if I CAN? What if I am Neo talking to Tank as he loads a way more fun program than boring operational bullshit?
"Jiu-jitsu...I'm going to learn...jiu-jitsu?!"
What if this thing I've been hearing about for twenty years--Spontaneous Healing--what if is a real thing? What if I can just decide which reality I truly want to live in? What if I truly AM the sculptor of my own life, down to the decision that I would like a healed knee and to go to Spain next month? (Check out this second video. This is Ronja Sebastian, my new instructor who--UPDATE--yes I AM going to meet in Spain in 9 days.) What if I decided I wanted my permanent brain damage gone? What if I could make it completely Zwoop out of my life just because I said so?
What if we all can?
Worst case scenario: I am learning deep meditation, and I AM the Placebo--the power of my mind is already giving me endorphins, pain relief, and a positive Yes-I-Can attitude. Aw darn. Who wants that, right? Hahahah! I'll take my double-dose, please and thanks!
In Gratitude and Glitter...
Especially to y'all who nursed me back to determination and curiosity!