Last Thursday, my brother and I shared an in-depth conversation in preparation for his grad school applications. Mainly, we were focusing on the defining moments in his life leading to where he is today. After discussing with him, I reflected on his essay question and thought about this past year. It has been awhile since I have grazed this blog. For the most part, it was due to physical reasons. As of late, I am still in the healing process of a hand injury from this past April. It was a freak accident, I lacerated my two tendons, artery, and nerves on my dominant hand. At first, I refused to believe that anything serious happened. Until a week later, my nerve therapist advised me to go into surgery immediately or it could affect mobility permanently. My heart dropped as thoughts of all my commitments and responsibilities quickly surfaced my mind. A sense of denial kept pushing me to think that I would shortly be back to my stamping grounds within a couple of days. How quickly it all faded away when I experienced struggle beyond my control...testing myself mentally, physically, and emotionally. Patience with the healing process became frustrating at times. The simplest movements of everyday life became more appealing and valuable. All I wanted to have was my health and mobility...to know how it felt not to sleep with my arm elevated at night, not taking pain medications after a photo shoot, and to be able to write again. Going to the hand therapist to restore my mobility twice a week for two to three hours became a part of my lifestyle. Leaning on Greg was heartwarming yet difficult for me...as I have a hard time receiving love and not wanting to burden anyone with my troubles. No words were possible to lift my spirits, I just wanted to plow and get through with it.
Relying on my faith kept me going. The hope for a break of light to shine through stirred a sense of peace within me. During the recovery process, there was a lot of time for me to be in reflection. Gratitude became a daily stamp as I witnessed little improvements each day and the support of family and friends. These small gusts of happiness moved me deeply. From notes of support, tiny checkups, or a simple phone call, I hoard all these memories of supportive measures like treasure. As quoted from the book, The Diving Bell and the Butterfly, "One day, I hope to fasten them end to end in a half-mile streamer, to float in the wind like a banner raised to the glory of friendship."
My hand injury became a defining experience this year and it taught me one of the greatest lessons...learning to be still and trust. The uncomfortable feeling was a birthplace of allowing something new to come into life. A sense of appreciation of knowing what I could do with one hand motivated me to see what I could possibly do with two. There is a year left till I reach 100% recovery, I am hopeful and looking forward to seeing how the rest of the year will unfold. In the meantime, I will continue to rest in faith and take each day as it comes.