It’s been a month since the fall that changed my life and I’m now beginning the restoration phase of the project. Last Thursday I had an evaluation at the physical therapy clinic in my neighborhood where I was given a few passive exercises to begin undoing the muscle tension that prevents me from having use of my left hand and arm. As I now understand it, when my bone broke, it enlisted enormous help from the muscles in my arm to lock it in place so the broken pieces could reconnect and fuse. And for the past month my part has been to hold the arm in a fixed position through the use of a sling, which I wore every day, even at night while sleeping.
I’m loving being able to let go of the sling for all but the times I’m in a crowded public space and need to signal other people to avoid bumping into my left side. I’ve also worn the sling when I’m teaching InterPlay to remind myself not to try to use muscles that have lost most of their strength. Strengthening will happen in the third phase – after the bones are securely mended.
As I’ve begun the exercises to reclaim some flexibility, the emotional challenge has been significant. I’m brought to the edge of tears, not just from physical pain, but from the feelings of shaky vulnerability that become ignited, like a bird with a broken wing continuingly attempting, but not quite able, to achieve flight.
Not surprisingly, since memories are stored in our bodies, working with the inner muscles close to the bone activated a memory of an incident that happened during a bodywork session I did 30 years ago. The practitioner working with me as I lay on the massage table held my left shoulder in her hands. Sending my breath into that place, and with her help, I was able to release tension from deep inside my shoulder, which coincidentally was the same shoulder that I’ve now broken. The immediate aftermath was a sensation of deep chill and my whole body began shivering. When I asked her what this might be about she said simply, “It’s fear.”
A few minutes later when I went outside into the streets of New York City, I experienced that shoulder as porous, and the wind as moving through open spaces I had created within it. I never was quite sure what that was all about but I never missed whatever I’d let go of and I’m hoping I won’t miss the tension I’m working on letting go of now.
