A former ritual, today I took the boys for a cruise by the Fayetteville Airport for the first time in six months. It was a meaningful drive for me as this was this route that changed my life in so many ways just six months ago. A physical impact still affecting me beyond the physical daily, I’m happy to be writing and sharing about it. For me, getting these words out represents a great deal of progress.
I was headed home to put two sleepy babes down for their afternoon_ nap. We were returning from groceries and lunch, finishing with a cruise down 71B to see the airplanes at the museum. A favorite routine, I would pull up and chat with Indra about the planes; him telling me what each of the parts were called while we all looked out for possible landings on the runway. If I was lucky, on the way home both boys would start blinking their eyes and eventually drift off to sleep. I’d gently carry them inside, feeling sleepy heads resting on my shoulders. However, this would not be one of those days. In fact, this would be the last day in several months where a car nap would be a consideration, as a quiet sleepy carseat ride would shift from a space of safety and security to a place of distress and danger. It would also be the last day, for the time being, where I would experience picking my children up with complete confidence or load them in and out of the car with ease.
The woman who hit us was more than drunk. It’s been interesting watching my anger ebb and flow with this. Drugs and erratic behavior gave her a laundry list of charges, including fleeing the scene of a multi-car collision. I first saw an accident several cars ahead in my lane. I stopped and prepared to wait for a bit. Cars were merging, traffic was heavy. Indra needed something. I turned back, reaching down for his water bottle that had dropped. Cars were clearing, time to go. With my spine twisted, I saw her out of the corner of my eye. She was in reverse, going fast. Why was she going so fast? Why is she going faster? Is she going to hit us? I reached for the horn. My head hit the seat. Kids screaming. What happened? Are they okay? The first thing I remember seeing clearly was a look of horror on a neighboring driver’s face. But our car was still moving, tires squealing, kids screaming, what was happening? I looked down. Stuck beneath our van, the driver was still trying to get away. Moving back and forth from reverse to drive, the smell of rubber burning and smoke from her tires filled the air. I couldn’t see the drivers face but I could see her arms flailing as she tried to push her airbags around. The terror was palpable. Someone has to help her, I thought. I had so much concern for her in that moment. This is one of the things that stirred anger in me the longest; that I worried about her so much and then felt pure disregard from her for the damage she was actually doing. I thought, she must be having a seizure or something, she’s really scared. And then she was free and all was still. I watched her drive away, weaving erratically and eventually out of sight without a care or concern for what she’d done. Shortly after, the sirens emerged and the flurry of black boots arrived to help.
So that’s where the story both ends and begins. Such a fleeting moment that was both over quickly and has yet to fully leave my brain and body. While the past six months have been filled with drastic recovery, I’m still in it. I posted recently about getting discharged from the neurosurgeon with excitement. What I didn’t say was he sent me off with a prosthetic shoe insert to wear for the rest of my life to stabilize my hips. This barefoot loving yoga teacher does not love that. I’m working with my body in more ways than ever, and it’s taking a lot of care and time. The most painful part has been the impact on my tiny humans who want to be picked up and held, or to practice yoga with me, or even just chase me around the house. When I wake up at night to care for Judah, my neck often freezes and shoots with pain. Then I remember to breathe. I soften, move the energy and my body follows. I pray in every moment that these boys are learning a beauty of self-care and healing during this time, rather than programming memories of a broken mother.
Beyond physical and family, my professional and financial changes have turned my world upside down. The business I built over the past six years had grown year over year and with our recent new buildout, I expected 2019 to be a time of ease and receiving. Dealing with lawyers, medical bills, insurance, all while receiving the overall disappointments and grief from the community were the last things I expected. I was shocked by the way some people treated me when I said I couldn’t do “it” anymore, including leaders in the yoga community and other business relationships. On the other hand, I’ll never forget those who were there for me and my family, regardless of business or money or what I had to offer them at the time. The experience of knowing angels will be engrained in me forever.
Through the endings and beginnings I have found a new voice. One that I am just learning how to use, though I know will be stronger and more powerful than I can imagine. I get little glimpses of the future and those glimmers are carrying me through the darkness. Most importantly, as the craziness of it all fades away, I am left with a strengthening of my faith. A currency that extends far beyond the riches of this word and is multiplying leaps and bounds through this experience. In these kinds of struggles, one can either move into despair or get closer to your spiritual truth. My relationship with mine has never been stronger. It’s taken me through something that has allowed me to unite pieces of my soul I didn’t know could come together. In words, it’s a celebration of my Christian roots and childhood upbringing, my soul’s purpose uniting with my life’s work and daily life practices. East and West uniting. In my heart, it’s more than I can describe. It’s a kind of coming home. And for that I say thank you for this day and look towards the sun rising. I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Om namah shivaya gurave
To God be the glory, forever, Amen