@Zelda &
@gullimac (and everyone):
Thanks for your posts. I hope things are well and that somehow, just somehow, we are gentle and kind and patient with ourselves today. I'll let you know if and when I learn to master that consistently.
I am grateful for my progress. I'm already taking some things for granted, such as sleeping at night without arthritic pain waking me up. How quickly we forget what is better while focusing on what still needs work. I'm guilty.
This past week at my job, to honor someone's birthday, they had an Italian ice truck come out for a treat. So far, so good. A co-worker decided to shoot a video of us standing outside with our treats, however.
In the video, I manage to ignore the smiling faces and the rainbow of ice colors and the sweaty brow of the hardworking man on the truck and focus on one thing- me.
Specifically, watching me walking towards the truck. While I should, by all accounts, be grateful to be walking at all, and to be walking now almost exclusively without the cane, that critical voice inside says it isn't enough. I see my hesitant steps, my looking down to watch for hazards in my path, and the stiff, somewhat laborious limp.
I thought my walking looked better. I think at times it looks better than others. I don't think I've been deluding myself with glimpses of reflections here and there telling me how good I'm doing.
These days when I stand from having been sitting, I am stiff and it takes a few minutes for things to feel more fluid and natural. It's not the pain from before, but rather tightness and soreness. Again, coming from where I've been, it is an improvement. But it would be so helpful mentally to know this stage should last "x" amount of time longer and then here's what to expect after that. But there's no advancing through the book to see how things turn out.
As I watched the video, I thought, "Surely, I look better than that in real life." As if the video is somehow distorting the truth in the vein of "a camera adds 10 pounds." Only I've never heard, "You know the camera makes a person's gait less becoming. It's science."
As some kind of reality check I looked at other people- their faces, mannerisms and movements. And perhaps viewing them with a kinder, more accepting lens, thought, "Yes, that all appears rather accurate and normal." Which leads me to conclude mine must be a true depiction too.
I find myself wondering if this is as good as it gets. Or maybe I'm not being patient enough. And feeling guilty I struggle with just acceptance. And not celebrating more the already hard won victories.
I limped for years and years before the surgery. It is really illogical to think post surgery I would be gliding about as if on an invisible conveyor belt. I don't know how much more improvement to expect, but I am hopeful. And while I keep the flame of that hope burning, I am trying to concentrate on just here and now. Just being, and letting that be enough. Accepting that I am enough. That I am not anyone else, and I'm not competing with anyone else.
It's such a rob of today's joy to pick ourselves apart and to live with worry. I find I can stay in a "good" place mentally for bursts of time, but then stray away again and have to find my way back.
The other night, I swung my legs up and over to get into bed and it struck me how easy that was compared to just a few weeks ago. There is progress. There is improvement in quality of life. There is hope. And often in life, what you are seeking/focusing on is what you will see and find.
I hope each of you celebrates unique, special, awesome, one-of-a-kind, terrific YOU today. Just as you are. Right here, right now. Without comparison. Without condition. Just acceptance and peace and love for yourself.
I'll work on it too.