Feet on the ground

For a long time I pursued flight and speed. I loved to run, ski, and jump as high as possible in any jazz choreography. I liked my feet off the ground. It felt good to do it and much of it was for fun but a lot was for keeping in shape. That changed.

Just before my illness I used those activities for emotional release. I remember at one point just running until my chest heaved and I felt like my heart would burst. I even contemplated what might happen if I did collapse since I was alone. I didn’t care. The pressures I felt seemed so enormous. The physical became less of an issue, I had lost lots of weight from the stress , but I kept running.

Flight indeed. I was trying to run away from everything. Who knew that within weeks I would be grounded in a major way. After my stroke I was paralyzed on my right side initially, then just weakened. I was in a wheelchair for 2 months and had to learn how to sit up, get out of the hospital bed and eventually relearn how to walk. That process, as determined as I was, took longer than I expected.

Physical recovery still continues for me. I’m happy to be mobile and regular yoga classes help, but I still feel grounded. I dance at parties, but I keep my feet still. I dream of running, I dream of flying. When the pressures get too great, they are just another thing I have to work out in a different way, because not only is my body different, but my mind is too.

I can’t run away anymore. I dismiss the feeling the minute it creeps up. I don’t really have a choice but to face things head on. So I do, and it is starting to come automatically to me. With my feet firmly planted.