It Takes A Village
It has been almost three weeks since I had an fall in Ajijic, Mexico; and this was not the vision I had of how I would spend my winter vacation.
For the most part I have been quite proud of how I have navigated this experience, but today, I “scheduled an appointment with disappointment.” I am giving myself 24 hours to feel a wee bit sorry for myself. I am impatient with this confinement. I want to be free of this hot and restrictive cast, I’d like to throw the crutches away, and I’d love to be joining others as they leave the gates of Namaste Village to shop and explore.
Scheduling an appointment with disappointment is exactly what I would coach another to do. Being positive does not mean doing a spiritual bypass on what we are feeling. The rigor is to feel the feelings, acknowledge our pain and losses and then move forward. There is a beautiful song that is sung at the Sunday service here. It goes “our thoughts are prayers and we are always praying, our thoughts are prayers, listen to what your saying.” And I know that what we place our attention on, is what precedes our thoughts. Today, I clearly see that I am giving a lot of attention to what I am missing out on, and how cumbersome and restrictive this experience feels. Yep, I’ve decided to wallow in this for a while, which is creating thinking and feelings and an experience that feels pretty constrictive. We all do this from time to time, don’t we? And this affirms what powerful creators we are. I also know that I have the power to change the channel. If I don’t want to watch CNN anymore (which is the story I have been telling myself today) I can decide to focus on something more uplifting… This is where I meant to start, and where I am going now.
The line “it takes a village,” started running through my thoughts yesterday as I pondered what to blog on. As I place my attention on this, what I feel is profound gratitude for this loving and caring intentional community- the residents of Namaste Village who have rallied to support my ability to stay in Mexico.
Soon after I returned from the hospital on crutches with instructions to put no weight on my casted left foot for one month, I realized how many tasks I would need assistance with. For example, I CAN make my coffee in the morning and prepare meals, but I am unable to carry fluids and plates to my table. Unless in a vehicle I am unable to leave Namaste Village. The quaint cobblestone streets and narrow sidewalks are in no way close to being wheel chair accessible. But daily, my “village” angels pop in to my tiny apartment to bring my coffee and meals to my table; they shop for me; make my bed; take out my garbage; do my laundry; withdraw money at the bank for me; spot my trips down the stairs to the dining and meeting areas, and stop in to visit and see what I might need in the moment. I now have a chair and a bag for my cast in the shower area, which I can manage and which "mostly" keeps my cast dry.
Fridays, a beautiful Mexican woman named Nor, has been coming into my apartment to give me a massage. The sun shines every day in this beautiful climate, and I’ve been gifted with a reclining lawn chair so I can sit outside whenever I want, and enjoy the plants and flowers that stretch out beyond my entrance.
If I want to, there are always people I can visit with. Daily I can attend sessions that nurture my spirit; and most evenings, there is an offering of music, movies or some form of entertainment. This past Saturday, a friend with a car took me and “a wheelchair” to the city of Chapala for lunch, icecream and a stroll on the malecon along the lake. That was a vision I had two weeks ago, and oh how I savored the outing. And I CAN still coach virtually, which I love.
It’s amazing how putting this down on paper has completely shifted my perspective and my experience. This feels much more expansive!
It's hard to believe that five weeks ago these angels were strangers. There have been some valuable lessons within all of this for me. I am learning to graciously accept the love and care of others, and to ask for help when I need it. This liminal experience is also gifting me time to “simply BE” and discern my “what’s next and what would I love going forward?"
Namaste from Namaste Village, Ajijic, Mexico