Have you ever noticed that you don’t really notice the passage of time now and then? Being so focused on what we have to get done during the day and what is due at some fixed point in the future, sometimes makes us allow the here and now to buzz on by in anticipation of the there and then.
I’ve had my lovely, high fashioned foot wear on for a little over 2 weeks and I have a little over 2 to go, and I KNOW, already, that my gray buddy and I are not going to part ways at that point. I distinctly remember the Dr. saying, “You will be wearing this for longer, the question is just how much longer.”
How do these two statements relate? I have been forced to remember the present through discomfort and inconvenience.
Is it all something I can deal with? OF COURSE! Heck, it’s not like it’s the worst thing in the world to endure, but it is uncomfortable. I walk differently, so my other leg is dealing with the adjusted gait. My heel and calf are constantly pressing up against something, so that the skin and tissue become irritated and today, at 92 degrees, I felt like my leg was in an oven. So even though I’m getting ready for upcoming concerts and our tour, these discomforts are reminding me of now. *Now*, it’s difficult to do certain things. *Now*, I’d like to take this off and SCRATCH. *Now*, I’d like to sleep without dreaming of having a foot encased in concrete.
Today, I went to a bridal party. Because I was clumsy, I stayed put in my chair, or chose to eat my cake standing. Normally, I would have been the person in the farthest corner scoping out the joint, but instead, I had to be kind of “in the way” and I talked to quite a few nice people. (And managed not to burst into flames or wither away.)
When I got home, I noticed my lilac bush was in full bloom, so I got a vase and went out to collect some blooms. My dog likes to dig little ankle-breaking holes in the backyard, so I had to pick my way carefully to the bush, dodging holes and trying to keep my balance on uneven footing. Because I was so slow, I stood at my lilac bush for longer than I normally would have, smelling the beautiful fragrance and choosing the best blooms. (Yes, it is ironic that I “stopped to smell the flowers”)
On my slow trek back to the house, I saw the neighbors adorable 4 year old daughter inspecting a frog that he had found in the clover. We talked about toad houses and bugs and then his 2 year old bundle of boy came over to tell me, “Bees, Worms, Ants!” and then to race away to collect a large rock to show me. How sweet is that?
Don’t get me wrong.. I’m not enjoying the discomfort that tends to remind me to slow down and LIVE my life some, but I think I am grateful for the reminder.