Inspiration in Challenging Times
- At January 13, 2021
- By admin
- In Annes Letters
0
Dear Family and Friends,
The challenges of the past year have been so complex and far-reaching that they stretch to the dimension of the archetypal. Ongoing tragedies abound. But through them, maybe because of them, many beautiful and inspiring stories also continue to unfold.
In light of the enormity of world changes, I often wonder where the vicissitudes of my teeny life fit into the larger scheme of things. How do any of us make a difference to the overall picture as we work our way through the demands and joys of each day?
A few weeks ago, I fell, severely hitting my upper arm and shoulder. Despite the fractured and dislocated femur, at first the doctor told me the bone should heal on its own and after that, with rehab, it would eventually find its way back into place. (A friend who broke her arm long before me was given the same advice by a different doctor. So, maybe this is common practice here.) I agreed to give it a try. But after a week, the bone had completely broken, twisted, and further removed itself from its shoulder home. I was immediately sent to the hospital.
And this is where small inspiring events began to unfold. The surgeon stayed late to meet me, explained what was in store, and sent me home to prepare for a rather lengthy hospital stay (long for foreign standards, rather short for Japanese). I checked in the following day.
A friend who lives in the apartment block I do said, “This is what it is. You have no choice. Just deal.” Her directness was solidifying. No complaining, no what if, no I shouldn’t have. Simply deal. That focus gave me tremendous courage, which I may not have otherwise had.
Another friend sent me daily short messages of encouragement. And once I was finally sent home, others filled my larder with food. Not once, but many times.
Back in the hospital, roommate was one of the warmest, most refined, yet genuine persons I have ever known. We kept the curtains around our beds open so we could chat, watch TV together, or silently appreciate the presence of one another.
The hospital itself was a world of its own. Of course, the staff worked on clock time, but the rest of us were definitely living in another dimension. I called it “God’s Time, the Wisdom of the Goddess”. Our job was to align ourselves with the forces of Nature so as to bring about our personal healing. Yet at the same time, we were like a team, holding each other together. There were no social boundaries, only a unified caring I had not experienced so fully since the earthquake and tsunami of 2011.
And yes, the nurses were unbelievable. No matter what time of day, or how busy they were, they always had a smile and were ready to help. Their lives were shining examples of unified selfless service. I had always admired the nursing profession, but after what I experienced, I can truly say they are angels on earth.
The halls were filled with medical equipment and we each used what we needed to the limits of our abilities. It was so touching to see how everyone encouraged each other. “You’re doing so well. Yesterday you were in a wheel chair, today a roll walker, surely soon it will be a cane.”
Each morning I got up early to walk the lobby before the hospital opened for the day. Japanese feel that healing is as much an emotional and spiritual matter as physical. So, that reception area was always filled with things of beauty. New Year decorations, banners, traditional kites. Throughout the year the displays would change with each season.
Everyone and everything has inspired me during this personally challenging time. But maybe my physiotherapist offered me an insight that will last the longest. “Don’t cringe and turn in upon yourself. Don’t lock yourself into the pain, lamenting what you can no longer do. Instead look within your limits and see the possibilities. You can, and will, do much more than you realize.”
And so, for the next three to five months I will go to rehab several times a week. My wise therapist will massage, knead, pull and push. He will give me exercises that painfully stretch me further than I ever dreamed possible. And then he will tell me I am doing fine. And the next time will probably be better.
My friend was right. This is what it is. I have to accept where I am now, and move within the infinite possibilities it has to offer. These difficult challenges are indeed very inspiring.
Maybe this could also be a message for the world. We are where we are. We are in this together. What kind of inspiring future, for all, will each one of us in our daily lives create from the painful challenges we now face?
Love,
Anne
The challenges of the past year have been so complex and far-reaching that they stretch to the dimension of the archetypal. Ongoing tragedies abound. But through them, maybe because of them, many beautiful and inspiring stories also continue to unfold.
In light of the enormity of world changes, I often wonder where the vicissitudes of my teeny life fit into the larger scheme of things. How do any of us make a difference to the overall picture as we work our way through the demands and joys of each day?
A few weeks ago, I fell, severely hitting my upper arm and shoulder. Despite the fractured and dislocated femur, at first the doctor told me the bone should heal on its own and after that, with rehab, it would eventually find its way back into place. (A friend who broke her arm long before me was given the same advice by a different doctor. So, maybe this is common practice here.) I agreed to give it a try. But after a week, the bone had completely broken, twisted, and further removed itself from its shoulder home. I was immediately sent to the hospital.
And this is where small inspiring events began to unfold. The surgeon stayed late to meet me, explained what was in store, and sent me home to prepare for a rather lengthy hospital stay (long for foreign standards, rather short for Japanese). I checked in the following day.
A friend who lives in the apartment block I do said, “This is what it is. You have no choice. Just deal.” Her directness was solidifying. No complaining, no what if, no I shouldn’t have. Simply deal. That focus gave me tremendous courage, which I may not have otherwise had.
Another friend sent me daily short messages of encouragement. And once I was finally sent home, others filled my larder with food. Not once, but many times.
Back in the hospital, roommate was one of the warmest, most refined, yet genuine persons I have ever known. We kept the curtains around our beds open so we could chat, watch TV together, or silently appreciate the presence of one another.
The hospital itself was a world of its own. Of course, the staff worked on clock time, but the rest of us were definitely living in another dimension. I called it “God’s Time, the Wisdom of the Goddess”. Our job was to align ourselves with the forces of Nature so as to bring about our personal healing. Yet at the same time, we were like a team, holding each other together. There were no social boundaries, only a unified caring I had not experienced so fully since the earthquake and tsunami of 2011.
And yes, the nurses were unbelievable. No matter what time of day, or how busy they were, they always had a smile and were ready to help. Their lives were shining examples of unified selfless service. I had always admired the nursing profession, but after what I experienced, I can truly say they are angels on earth.
The halls were filled with medical equipment and we each used what we needed to the limits of our abilities. It was so touching to see how everyone encouraged each other. “You’re doing so well. Yesterday you were in a wheel chair, today a roll walker, surely soon it will be a cane.”
Each morning I got up early to walk the lobby before the hospital opened for the day. Japanese feel that healing is as much an emotional and spiritual matter as physical. So, that reception area was always filled with things of beauty. New Year decorations, banners, traditional kites. Throughout the year the displays would change with each season.
Everyone and everything has inspired me during this personally challenging time. But maybe my physiotherapist offered me an insight that will last the longest. “Don’t cringe and turn in upon yourself. Don’t lock yourself into the pain, lamenting what you can no longer do. Instead look within your limits and see the possibilities. You can, and will, do much more than you realize.”
And so, for the next three to five months I will go to rehab several times a week. My wise therapist will massage, knead, pull and push. He will give me exercises that painfully stretch me further than I ever dreamed possible. And then he will tell me I am doing fine. And the next time will probably be better.
My friend was right. This is what it is. I have to accept where I am now, and move within the infinite possibilities it has to offer. These difficult challenges are indeed very inspiring.
Maybe this could also be a message for the world. We are where we are. We are in this together. What kind of inspiring future, for all, will each one of us in our daily lives create from the painful challenges we now face?
Love,
Anne
