Things are different now. And of course, it’s expected as nothing in life remains the same. I’ve become aware just how much I’ve held onto things I shouldn’t have due to fear like ideas, fantasies, job, people, places and things. It’s strange holding onto something and being afraid of losing it.
Where does that come from? How many reasons do we need to hold onto something? How many reasons do we need for us to let go? It’s kind of crazy because as people we live every day of our lives with things changing all the time, so what are we afraid of?
It’s scary to think of what we do, and what we say and how we are shaped by things simply because we’re doing what we can to keep it. I know I bring a force that unfortunately places resistance to what is, which in the end, means I will suffer more than I must to maintain a keeping. Well, is it worth it?
The past few years I’ve been learning and practicing with each new day how nothing is meant to last. Everything is in an impermanent state – every face, feeling, state of mind, impression and precious moments. And that’s something I’ve learned is okay. As a matter of fact, with each change came more blessings and visions I could never imagine due to being rigid within my ways.
I did want things to remain the same for me like my identification with the fitness lifestyle and having my body conditioned. However, everything is different as it’s supposed to be. If it weren’t different, then I wouldn’t be different, but because I’m different, everything else is different. It’s been different going back to the gym. Sometimes it depresses me.
I still suffer from the physical trauma of having broken my ankle. Trauma can remain in the body like the way muscle memory does. I’ve been working on it for years now. With trauma comes some undesirable associations like intrusive thoughts. So, for instance, going to the gym and getting on a bike gives me anxiety as I believe (imagined; possibly irrational, but feels real) I’ll break my ankle again. Before I get on the bike, an image will flash where I reinjure my ankle by slipping off the bike in horrible fashion – a visualization I would love to do without.
Aside from the mental intrusive thoughts, images or flashbacks I have, there are other things that come, which I call the lingering side effects of things that may never go away. I’ll rock out on a cardio machine (preferably the bike) and within twenty-five minutes my feet will start to hurt and swell, each fueling one another. Sometimes the pain creeps where my metal rod and screws are. Other times the pain comes directly from the arches of my feet and travels upwards in an ache that makes me shudder and vulnerable.
Sometimes I stop for 30 seconds because I don’t want the machine to reset my time. Other times I loosen my shoelace or take my sneakers off, so I can continue with my sixty plus minutes of cardio. These things do depress me, especially if I look back on my past and feel like I was better than. I don’t want to look back there because there is nothing there for me but pains of what I had, which will give me present sadness and if I’m not careful will rob me of all the blessings I do have today.
So, I don’t do plyometrics anymore. I don’t jog anymore. Maybe I will l someday despite the syndesmotic widening in my right ankle. I focus on the blessings of having all my limbs. I focus on how far I’ve come like when walking a single block would flare everything in my body because I had to learn how to walk again, which essentially meant walking the fire for me. I focus on the resiliency and how good I feel when the endorphins fly like a thousand butterflies heading to the sunlight to fuel their wings with solar energy.
Things are different. I’m forged by a new fire. And it’s okay.