What the Body Says

What the Body Says

Just before Christmas I was rushing to get everything done.  I had a fight with the 45 MPH wind over whether the storm door was going to open or not and fell.  I had to do gentle stretching, taking muscle relaxers and codeine for about a month.

  Then a friend let the dog roll in something disgusting and brought him home.  I almost hurled so had to give him a bath. In the process of lifting his 48 flailing pounds into the tub,  I pulled a muscle associated with ribs and it was hard to breathe, lay down comfortably, or move easily for three weeks.

In March I caught a nasty stomach virus which put me out of commission for most of a week.  I hadn't been that ill in some time and had forgotten how Bad it feels.

I have been working nonstop, chopping sod so I can move the whole damned garden, or sewing every spare moment.  I used to be able to dig with a space and rip Bermuda grass out of the soil, saving the dirt for the garden, for three to five hours at a time.  Now after about two hours I get tired, go in and clean up to do housework and sew.  Yesterday I was cleaning the tray to the canary's cage in the bathtub and leaned wrong, somehow, pulling that same muscle associated with ribs again.

Last night as I struggled to find a way to lay down which hurt least, I remembered what a friend said after my first fall back in Dec. 2012.  "Seems like the universe is telling you to slow down, doesn't it?"

Last night I Vowed to slow down.  It doesn't matter what I Want to do or think I Should get done.  What matters is, my body Cannot do what it used to do.  I Must slow down and things will get done when and if they get done.

I would be happy working at my sewing, creating unique things for dolls, purchasing items made by people with disabilities from around the world and selling them, reading and writing.

If the garden had been put in the right place Last year, I would certainly plant it.  But foolishly agreeing with a young first time gardener that she'd be here to help with the work this year, I let her set it up, with my contribution of work and money, in too shaded a spot.  I figured she would learn from the experience.  WRONG!  She is now a long distance trucker and if I want to grow food to eat and share, the whole damned thing has to be done Again!  And I am Tired of being hurt!  So, maybe I'll just buy another set of black plastic contractor bags and kill out the grass in another spot, seeding the previous spot, once the good dirt we bought  has been removed, with fescue or some other hardy grass.  For that matter, the Bermuda grass will probably fill it in before long.  My body is Definitely saying Slow Down!  And I will, though I feel sad about it.