It is a bright sunny Saturday. My husband Dennis and I are off for a play day. We are in Tucson, riding our new motorcycle which he bought to keep me safe and comfortable. We are excited to be able to take this day to go to a local renowned taqueria, do some antiquing (well, he’s not excited about the antiquing but he is dear and patient and doesn’t mind my meanderings.) After antiquing, we will drive up beautiful Mt. Lemmon which presides over all of Tucson.
We come to a large intersection in the left hand turn lane and stop as the arrow turns red. In a motorcycle you never just try to “make” the light. My husband is a cautious, conservative driver. We stop and wait. Calm. I remember noting the street name. - Miracle Mile. And the seconds pass. One, two, three, four. And then the world breaks open. I am engulfed in a bright, white light.
I remember thinking, “everything has changed.” Then I find that I cannot breathe. My whole body is in spasm and there is a tightness like iron, like a lock. No breath. I say, “I can’t breathe, I can’t breathe.” I lean my head against my husband’s solid back and feel deep sorrow and shock. I lose consciousness.
We had been rear-ended by a pick up truck whose driver had simply plowed into us.
I was taken to the ER. I had (have) 2 broken thoracic vertebrae and “multiple” rib fractures. I was in the hospital for 4 days. As luck would have it (who am I kidding, as the Universe provided in her wisdom and compassion) we were minutes from Arizona’s #1 trauma hospital which is also a teaching hospital. If I had had to have surgery this was the place to be. Luckily, I do not and will be in a full body brace for 12 weeks.
I do not tell you this story for sympathy but for context.
In our work, we counsel many students and clients on ways to live a more peaceful, fulfilled life. One that is driven by a core purpose and undergirded by self-compassion and love.
We use the tools that we share ourselves and they have transformed our lives. In this case, they are saving mine. Not, literally, of course — I will heal. But they are keeping my heart open, my mind (mostly) calm, not overwhelmed.
After the accident I have found that I am at least 50% more direct in my communication - that can happen when your life literally flashed before you. There’s not time to mess around folks. Not for me. Not for you.
I feel deep compassion for those who say that they are too busy or who believe that they “can’t” follow a meditative practice or learn tools that deepen their connection to their hearts. But it is CRITICAL that we develop these practices when we think we don’t need them. So that when our world falls apart (it will, my dear friends, someone you love will die, or fall gravely ill, or kill themselves, or be killed. Or you may be hit by a truck or so on and so forth). The question is not “if” but “when.”
So that (back to me) when you are lying on a gurney in the ER with people poking and prodding and making sure you can feel your toes (yes! so grateful, yes!) and you body is spasming in protection. You can turn to your breath. And you can follow its tether.
You can experience the web of love and light that holds, you, the threads spiraling out of your body as filaments connecting you to the people who love you and who are holding you (me).
You can practice gratitude as soon as you become conscious. “I am safe. I am alive.” You can find the beauty in the ray of sun hitting the back of the pleather chair in the hospital room.
My practice is my life. BUT there is absolutely nothing mysterious or even difficult about these practices. All you need is knowledge, guidance and loving support as you learn and try and develop.
Linda and I are here (thank the Universe) and we are ready to help you go deeper, further and into a more unshakeable, aware space.
With all my love and gratitude to you,
Eliza.
We invite you to explore our resources on gratitude:
