Sometimes we grow up with a whole lot of lousy stuff. When tough stuff happened, we learned to separate out ourselves from the sucky thing happening. We learned to leave, while standing right there.
It served its purpose and left us unembodied in the developmental process of our lives, that was so vital and true and good. We end up kisses my some rich important stuff, being separated out and all.
Sometimes later on, we learn to re-embody. We learn to digest the terrible crap and hard stuff and untenable experiences , and slowly we become accustomed to returning to solidly right right here.
Here, where the lifeblood pulses and here where the heart of our life lives, and right right here, no matter the very real modern day hard stuff.
Which, we learn, we can encounter, and breathe through, and digest, and feel, and manage ,while remaining right here. Present.
The downside is we discover the lousy everyday tough stuff we had spent those years avoiding. By taking off at the least provocation.
Today was like that, the normal tough condition of my beloved , added to what the day delivered, which was a suddenly slick unsanded road out front , at the top of the foothill of the small mountain range.
Where someone scooted up the long long hill, and found themselves not making curve up by the top of our driveway.
My husband was working in his study upstairs, and heard the heart rending crunch of a car rolling. Ran down the stairs yelling to me to call 911, went out to help evaluate and then pull a person out of the upturned SUV, in the freezing rain, the road a sheet of ice.
Lots of cars lined up on either side of the foothill, waiting, while a small group held her, waiting for police and ambulance and fire truck ( hooray taxes).
I ran out and brought my husband his coat while he held the woman he helped pull out, with an EMT that was there.
Stood by, feeling the renting of grave emotions that finally arrive when you don't have your new stuff or your old stuff packed away any longer. When you really are present, right right here.
Inconvenient, you think to yourself. Embarrassing, you imagine, feeling your tears and gasps.
I directed cars to turn back, walking carefully alongside the pines that climb the mountain.
I walked back and told them the ambulance was on the way.
I asked the arrived flustered young cop if they wanted the cars turned back or passing.
Then I stood aside . Feeling it.
The amazement it hadn't ended worse.
The surprise that no one else skidded into the car and people clustered there.
The lack of fire. So many things.
Once the cops were there and the ambulance got there and the other cops and the fire truck.
Once, on the small mountain road, the line of cars managed to slowly turn about and head back, chastened .
Once the towtruck came and then the sanding trucks began passing by, I was making my way down our driveway, in righteous tears. In wise tears. Common sense tears. Normal tears. Regular old tears. Recovery tears.
I thought about my husband still up there helping and the person mostly ok and the flustered young cops figuring things out and everybody helping and how close we come and how often.
Safe neighborhood, distressed neighborhood. Sane family , sick family. Dry well kept roads, slick unkempt roads. And everything in between.
For, here we all are. In our lives. Hoping for the best. Navigating the worst. In recovery.
In hope and love. Tendering our luck and our blessings and our deeply blessed happiness.
It served its purpose and left us unembodied in the developmental process of our lives, that was so vital and true and good. We end up kisses my some rich important stuff, being separated out and all.
Sometimes later on, we learn to re-embody. We learn to digest the terrible crap and hard stuff and untenable experiences , and slowly we become accustomed to returning to solidly right right here.
Here, where the lifeblood pulses and here where the heart of our life lives, and right right here, no matter the very real modern day hard stuff.
Which, we learn, we can encounter, and breathe through, and digest, and feel, and manage ,while remaining right here. Present.
The downside is we discover the lousy everyday tough stuff we had spent those years avoiding. By taking off at the least provocation.
Today was like that, the normal tough condition of my beloved , added to what the day delivered, which was a suddenly slick unsanded road out front , at the top of the foothill of the small mountain range.
Where someone scooted up the long long hill, and found themselves not making curve up by the top of our driveway.
My husband was working in his study upstairs, and heard the heart rending crunch of a car rolling. Ran down the stairs yelling to me to call 911, went out to help evaluate and then pull a person out of the upturned SUV, in the freezing rain, the road a sheet of ice.
Lots of cars lined up on either side of the foothill, waiting, while a small group held her, waiting for police and ambulance and fire truck ( hooray taxes).
I ran out and brought my husband his coat while he held the woman he helped pull out, with an EMT that was there.
Stood by, feeling the renting of grave emotions that finally arrive when you don't have your new stuff or your old stuff packed away any longer. When you really are present, right right here.
Inconvenient, you think to yourself. Embarrassing, you imagine, feeling your tears and gasps.
I directed cars to turn back, walking carefully alongside the pines that climb the mountain.
I walked back and told them the ambulance was on the way.
I asked the arrived flustered young cop if they wanted the cars turned back or passing.
Then I stood aside . Feeling it.
The amazement it hadn't ended worse.
The surprise that no one else skidded into the car and people clustered there.
The lack of fire. So many things.
Once the cops were there and the ambulance got there and the other cops and the fire truck.
Once, on the small mountain road, the line of cars managed to slowly turn about and head back, chastened .
Once the towtruck came and then the sanding trucks began passing by, I was making my way down our driveway, in righteous tears. In wise tears. Common sense tears. Normal tears. Regular old tears. Recovery tears.
I thought about my husband still up there helping and the person mostly ok and the flustered young cops figuring things out and everybody helping and how close we come and how often.
Safe neighborhood, distressed neighborhood. Sane family , sick family. Dry well kept roads, slick unkempt roads. And everything in between.
For, here we all are. In our lives. Hoping for the best. Navigating the worst. In recovery.
In hope and love. Tendering our luck and our blessings and our deeply blessed happiness.
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