What a broken arm has taught me.

One minute you're getting out of your car after a two-week vacation, the next you're dialing 911 because of a crazy fall against your non-forgiving brick house. One emergency department visit later, and you are headed to surgery to have your arm put back together with plates and screws.

I had just gotten back from one of the most amazing vacations I've ever been on. Spending a week at a ranch in Wyoming, riding horses every day, getting so excited to be back home to start riding my mare, Memphis, again.  She had been healing up from a wound herself and should have been ready to begin our journey again.  But the karmic gods decided that the plan would have to be delayed for a couple of months.   Memphis had an abscess that decided to pop its ugly head again and will have to be treated for a bit.

So in actuality, with my broken wrist and her Ouchy hoof, we were on the same path of healing. The irony of it all was that I had compiled a lengthy list of all the wonderful things I was looking forward to doing when I got home. Everything from riding again, to working on the fields, to mowing the back hay down, to painting my bedroom, you name it, it was on the list. 

The question to me would be, why did Life decide to slow me down?   I had decided to take the month of July off to pursue some training in equine-assisted mindfulness and then head on my two-week vacation, which took me to Wyoming and Colorado.  The decision put my business on hold and required my clients to utilize the learning they had been given until I returned in August.   But Life had other plans.

In my usual ponderings, I have to ask, what has this broken arm taught me?   There's always a life lesson in everything that happens to you, and if you look for the lesson, maybe some of the pain would be worthwhile.

It's curious to think that I had really been jumping into the equine-assisted mindfulness part of my business.  What I know this broken arm has taught me is to break everything down into individual steps to accomplish a goal.   As you become accustomed to doing things with just one arm, you have to be so careful and think of what the next step might be. To wash your hands, there are many more steps than you might think, because we often do everything so automatically.  The act of handwashing is just a very smooth activity when you're not worried about getting a cast wet or feeling the pain of the sore fingers.    I counted eight steps in the simple act of washing your hands. We take for granted that it's one fluid step.   Don't even get me started on trying to put a halter on a 17-hand horse.   I must say that my horses are amazing because they all seem to have recognized my injury and have adapted their behavior accordingly.  They have taken to lowering their heads, waiting until I can get it over their ear, and then get it over the other ear before I'm able to lead them in.  

The mindfulness aspect of this learning endeavor is that I must be present in everything I do right now. Whether it's walking down my sidewalk or going underneath a fence line, I want to ensure that I am safe and do not fall on my already broken arm.  In our lives, we often take many things for granted and rush through our day-to-day tasks.  

What would happen if we take a moment:

To think about where our feet land. 

To count the steps it takes to accomplish a task.

To breathe as we completed them and acknowledge the breath.

To savor the meal as we taste something that has taken us time to cook.

To feel the softness of the sheets as we get into bed at night.

To literally stop and smell the roses.

How much actual time would any of these things take from your day-to-day meanderings?   A moment?  A second?  A breath?  

But what would the impact be of those moments, of those seconds, of those breaths?   We all sometimes want time to stop, and as we take moments to find the true meaning of mindfulness.   Time may not stop, but it certainly gives us a pause.  A break from our hurried, crazy lives. 

My broken arm has given me a break from my hurried, crazy life, and taught me that slowing down isn't so bad.   Not to say it's not taking some time to get used to, but here I am dictating this blog since it's too hard to type,  adjusting my life to my new normal for the next few months.   I think this will give me some time to reflect, slow down, and think about what my next steps are for myself and the business.   I'll head out to the field to sit amongst the horses and just be mindful of how fortunate I am to be where I am at this time in my life.

Thanks for reading. I hope you find something valuable in it.

Jill Graydon 8/25

At Liberty Connections Farm

Muckin' Through It