Four weeks ago, I had to face the reality that the tenosynovitis (inflammation of the tendons and tendon sheath in my wrist) required serious rest if I wanted to heal. That meant that my current movement routine, my comfort and daily release, could not happen anymore.
Three weeks ago, our family started having a streak of bad luck that increased my stress levels exponentially and completely ruined what was left of the struture I had in my life.
Prior to this, I had a routine that was working so well for me. Eating intuitively in a way that made me feel good physically and mentally, moving every day with purpose and goals, I was comfortable.
It's all been shaken and knocked down to its foundations. At first, I was resistant. I was mad that I didn't have my routine. But I came to accept it. I realized that I couldn't fight it. That would be like a sailor trying to fight the tide.
Routine, emotions, needs and desires, all of these ebb and flow. They are not static. My routine changed because my needs changed, but I didn't realize that at first. I had a rigid mindset that what I'd been doing before worked so why couldn't it now? Forgetting that physically my needs had changed, emotionally my needs had changed. That I required a different routine to accommodate my current needs.
I started to roll into it instead of push against it. Instead of being mad at myself for not sticking with a structured movement routine, I applauded myself for doing what my body needed every day, even if that looked completely different from what it was before. Instead of laser focusing on a rigid concept of what and when dinner should be, I started finding ways to incorporate my body's needs into later, less structured meals.
Rolling with the changes has had some lovely side effects, changes that never would have happened without these unfortunate weeks of bad luck. My partner and I have found a way to communicate more clearly with each other. We have started spending intentional, thoughtful time together in our new routine. I have started incorporating an entirely different type of movement (but that's a subject for another post), finding comfort outside of my comfort zone.
Through the difficulties I have realized the importance of forgiveness. Forgiving myself for not being able to keep up the routine of a non-injured, non-stressed version of myself. Forgiving my partner for the same. Forgiving my body for being soft, the nights for being late. Forgiveness allowed us to find a beautiful place outside of our comfort zone that we never knew existed. To find comfort in the change.