Then (because I had no choice and the water was so ferocious) I was flushed down that long set of rapids -- head first, on my stomach, then churning like something in a Waring blender. I am lucky I didn't crack my head open on all the rocks I slammed into. Lucky I didn't break anything. Lucky there were kind people on the trail and with me.
I'm good and bruised up, though, so we tooled home last night instead of going on to Asheville. Edemas everywhere. Fitful, painful sleep.
I'm better this afternoon. This morning I journaled about this experience, put it all in my notebook. I want to save it. And... I want to share it. It took me five minutes to decide to blog about it.
We have uncountable stories to share, and life is short. Let's get to it.
OnePom will change, I'm not sure how yet. Feel free to stick around; I'm glad to have you here. Alternately, it's okay to slip on off, too, really -- s'okay. I've done it myself.
Today I'm moving slowly. I've spent time in the kitchen doing soothing tasks. Sorting and soaking beans, making stock, folding napkins, choosing colors, creating our midday meal. Walking from and to, forth and back, in the way of making sure every part of me still works (it does) and gets a bit of movement.
Have you had a wake-up call lately? Did it involve pain? Did it flip you over and churn you around and around? What changed?
My life this year has been full of epiphanies. Welcome back.
