She stirs.
She will rise.
Six weeks post-surgery and I’m off medication. Starting to walk, albeit slowly. Gingerly. Clunkily (if that’s a word).
The couch no longer feels like a friend. I have had my fill of television. I am antsy. Ready for something to change. Primed for what is next. I want to be productive. I want to get up and go.
And….it’s not quite time for that version of myself. Yet.
It’s no wonder a moose was so prominent in my daughter’s visit to Wyoming this week. A moose and her calf, together, in the grass. Lounging.
I know this card from my deck. The Moose is my totem no matter how much I love Owls. The have always found me and now is no different. “Moose comes to our aid when we are overcome with feelings of helplessness. They encourage us to acknowledge our existence and breathe in the moment.”
I needed that reminder. The impulse to get back to what was before is strong. To hurry up and get back to it. To work. To being busy.
Here’s the thing: after so long (seven months now) of not doing what I want to do, I set the intention to welcome change as an outcome of this time. There are changes I want to embrace after significant injury and at 47. It was the first and easiest of my vision board to set: going from images of sofas and rest to healing and motion. I imagine a different time with my body. One that integrates a spirit of adventure, ease, transformation, and joy. That is what is coming.
On the couch all of July, I rewatched Star Wars (the originals and the recents, never the 90s). How much of the Star Wars saga is about the struggle between patience and impatience? This time around, it seemed like it was everything. There is time. Yes. It’s here everyday, a little more. Even just a drop. Notice. Be present, says the Moose. Notice how much strength you are gaining each day. Each exercise promises a step to healing. It is not transactional - it is transformative.
This is what has drawn me so close to the wonderful simplicity, joy, and community of @Emily Gaines Demsky’s
. Each day, I look forward to reading what people post. I savor the quiet moment when I look up from my phone, pausing to consider what are three things to share today. It is a transaction but in this time that has been slow and uncomfortable, it feels like a companion to transformation.The slant that was is transformative must be big looms. Is transformation so big? What if transformation is a series of transactions that comes with intention? That builds. Transactions we’re choosing to make that compose the fuller picture that is us transformed. Small, like the changes in my strength and flexibility. Like the change to go from posting three good things to returning to post here. Clunky. Tentative. Small, perhaps. And a start. A step, gingerly, in the direction of what is to come.
Tread lightly.
Moose, seemingly awkward, are the majestic ones of the forests. Impressive. Agile.
She lounges. And when it is time, she will stir. She will rise.