Begin

Every step holds the potential for a new beginning, that’s one of the things dance taught me. If you’re really dancing, you’re on an edge that can lead you in any direction.
My two feet are different from each other now. One day the swelling will be gone, the toe will straighten out a bit more, touch the ground with greater ease. But likely the tendon on that foot will not give as much, and most of the nerves that were severed will not come back.

Remember: not better or worse – different.

This morning I set my bare feet to the dirt and began to dance. Everything was new. An injury takes you to an edge too. My arms spread out, capturing the wings sprouting from my shoulders. They were different than anything I’d felt before, stronger.

My wounded foot glowed with joy as I began to rock gently and test its signals. When I pushed too hard I relaxed back into my breath.

Feel your way through this, slowly, gently.

I’ve taken a turn in a direction I didn’t expect. It has been scary, but there is solid ground here. Even more, I’m finding succulent fruit along the way.
Terry and Tadg have been away for five days now, on a trip I couldn’t take because of the pin the surgeon inserted in my foot to keep my toe pointed up. That was removed a few days ago, pushing itself half way out at a rude angle before the doctor finally agreed to pull it the rest of the way. My body was done with it.
I’ve spent most days in unplanned silence. The quiet has been a chelation, drawing out stress wrought by the dull, painful hum of pins and stitches and a swollen sutchered tendon. I’m no longer tired all the time. I have energy to dig and dance and hope.

I can trust these new wings, and my new foot.

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