Launching into Summer

A few weeks ago I had outpatient surgery, and received the most amazing care from my parents, the staff at the hospital and my medical team.

In healing and recovery, I learned that “expectations” are almost worse than comparisons…

I expected to be back to my usual walks within a week, two max.

I expected to be back to my usual swims in four weeks.

I expected to participate in the 1-mile ocean swim in Florida a mere 8 weeks after surgery.

Was I back to walking and swimming in these time frames?
Yes.

Was it “business as usual”?
No.

It took me five weeks to learn to slow my walks down.

After living in NYC for 15 years, and taking regular “speed walks” even before then, my standard walking pace is quite fast. What feels slow to me, is actually still quite fast!

I learned that I operate at two speeds: 10 and 0. Very extreme.

The surgery and recovery offered me an opportunity to learn what 1, 2, 3, 4, etc., felt like. Because when I didn’t slow down, pain and discomfort showed up to redirect me.

When I tried to push things too hard to soon (for example: I returned to work 2 days earlier than I really should have), it resulted in a lot of extra tiredness and fatigue.

On the upside to this, I learned:

How to slow down, what that feels like – not just in my body, but in my mind.

That’s right, despite over a decade’s experience with meditation and so on, I still want to move through life lightning fast. I do this so I can “fit it all in”, but to my detriment. Having to slow down in order to “go fast” with my healing was a strange feeling. I learned that the more I honored not just my body’s need for deep rest but also slowness, the more I felt better. I really want to bring this forward with me, it is such a valuable lesson and practice.

I learned what guilt-free rest felt like. I learned to nap with glee and abundance.

I learned that it’s better to do something than to sit around and do nothing and stew in anxiety. In the week leading up to the surgery, I was prepping food and storing it in single serving portions in the freezer so that my mother would have an easier time while taking care of me. It felt good to do this, definitely more productive than having pre-surgery anxiety and the resulting stories that my mind would potentially come up with! And, having my mother bring be big mugs of green soup, squash soup, congee, and smoothies was pretty awesome.

I learned to speak up to my doctor in a proactive, non-confrontational, way.

I learned that it is totally okay to do “the bare minimum” (see “fitting it all in” above) – and that there is great pleasure in doing very little each day. I am no less worthy or valuable because all I did was eat, nap, sleep, take a walk, and read for the day. (This worth and value harkens to Earth and Metal issues, we’ll maybe touch on this in the future when I have learned enough lessons to share about it.)

I learned that people want to help – and to let them. That accepting offered help doesn’t “mean” anything about me other than I’m receiving the other person’s love and care and kindness.

Oh, and that Ocean Mile Swim?

That was yesterday.

Against doctor’s orders, against all reasoning from everyone around me saying it wasn’t a good idea and to not do it: I tried anyway.

I tried because despite not registering, I received a “thanks for registering for the Ocean Mile Swim!” email AND my Friday night plans had been cancelled (which meant I could go to bed early). I said, “oh, okay Universe, I’ll go! Thanks!”

An ominous wind howled in the trees along the coast, which gave me a not so warm and fuzzy feeling in my belly. The wind was but a preview of the not ideal conditions: strong current, 3ft chop with a 15mph southern wind, all that jazz. The course is a swim north then south parallel to the shore: so basically you were fighting the current for the latter half of the swim to the course’s finish.

I made it 85% of the way (to completing the course), and had to stop.

I was really, really tried, and I had no juice left. I started crying in the water, and cried when I got to shore. I really wanted to finish, and I just couldn’t. (My brain wasn’t even saying, “I can’t do this”, it was my body saying: I’m done.)

I swam for over an hour, and swam 1.26 miles. That’s right, over an hour, 1.26 miles and I didn’t even get to finish the course before I conked out. By the time I would have completed the swim, had I had the juice, I would have clocked over a mile and a half to three quarters, minimum.

I learned that it’s okay to make it 85% of the way there sometimes – especially less than 8 weeks after surgery.

I learned that the woman who finished first in her age group thought about quitting a hundred times, and kept at it anyway.

I wish I had more “juice” to keep going, but my energy was just gone. I mean, I’m probably at 85% post-surgery anyway, so to get 85% of the course as it was done – that’s all I could do.

I also learned that it’s more about the trying than the finishing, and who you meet along the way, that matters more than anything. (And, of course, listening to my body.)

This is what I have learned as we’re launching into summer.

What have you been learning?

I’d love to hear from you.

***********************************************************************************************************

If you liked this post, please hit the heart button!

If you resonated with something here, I’d love to know what it brought up for you (comment below).

And, if you think someone would like this post too… feel free to share it.

Please consider subscribing (as a free or paid subscriber) - it means the world to me, and encourages me to keep sharing with you!