Mindfully Making it Through the COVID and Injuries

Six months ago today, I completely torn my right Achilles' tendon playing tennis. It's been the most pain I've ever felt physically and one the most difficult mental mountains I've climbed. . . .

 

My orthopedist regularly reminds me that even professional athletes take nine months to fully recover. To which I beg, "what do the rest of us do?"

 

I noticed, a couple of months into the COVID quarantine, that the "forced" slowing down was the best and maybe only way for me to feel it's benefit. Somewhere in my mid 20s I noticed the overachieving perfectionist in me was doing more harm than good. Whatever she was selling I was no longer buying. Fifteen years later, I sit in stillness, go to therapy and move (a lot) to quiet her down. And yet. Turns out when you are trying not to be a perfectionist, you often try too much. Too perfectly. Like, sometimes I'm trying to "win" yoga. Know what I mean?

 

Anyway, just as I was noticing the benefits of the forced slowing down and really getting into a new groove last year, my achilles' snapped. And there I was. Crying in pain and forced on the couch for three straight months. Literally. Apparently I had more slowing down to do.

 

I was finally able to drive again at four months and most days can walk without a limp, but I'm still not...back. I used to Peloton my stress away at 5am and now I'm stretching on the floor to ease the pain in the evenings. And yet. The healing is happening every single day if I stop and notice it. Funny how the lessons we are trying to learn come at us over and over and over.

 

When the world stopped in March 2020, our business came to a sudden and terrifying halt. There was much pain and a lot of tears. Also many days sitting in stillness and silence, what to do. We are not out of the woods, but we are so much more hopeful than back then. We have new strategies and relationships, new sales channels and mentors. Sometimes what feels like a break is often a breaking open.

 

The parallel paths are not lost on me. We are all experiencing some level of this together. The lessons seems to be patience, presence and purpose. Personally and professionally. Slowing down over and over (even when I don't want to) seems to make the difference.


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