I'm okay

I am in process

I experienced my first official accident yesterday. I have had a few run-ins with animals in the past including a couple of dear running into my car, hitting a raccoon, and a very unfortunate incident with a chicken, but I had never collided with another vehicle. Yesterday I was riding up towards the mountain from campus when a car in the oncoming lane turned left in front of me. I always drive my motorcycle under the assumption that I am invisible and everyone is trying to hit me, but the timing of the turn left me no alternatives for escape. I struck the front fender of the car and flew off my bike. 

When I sat up from where I landed in the road I did a quick body scan to see if I was alright. I probably flew 10 or 20 feet and although I could tell I was experiencing an adrenaline dump unlike anything I had experienced before nothing seemed to be broken or bleeding. I think my leg caught the car or my handlebars as I flew off and there is a bruise on my thigh but I think I did a barrel roll across my shoulder as I landed and I am otherwise unscathed. I was wearing a helmet and full leathers but I could not see any scratches or damage to those either. After I got my bike off the road and sat down I then assessed the damage to the bike. I think that given the situation the damage to the bike was as minimal as possible, but it is highly likely that the bike is totaled. 

Unquestionably my good health is the most important outcome to what occurred. (I think I either have the reflexes and agility of a jungle cat as I flew through the air or perhaps a few attending angels helped me down gently) Along with that gratitude for being okay, I also have to recognize that I am already experiencing the mourning process with what happened. I have learned a variety of lessons through that bike over the past year, many of which I have written about here: moving forward, crisis, don't stop the journey, breakdown , breaktime, I like to go fast, fog lights, and heads up.  Those  lessons will stay with me, but I would be untrue to myself if I did not recognize how sad the potential loss makes me. 

Through all of the paperwork, police reports, tow trucks and discussions of what happened last night I have felt relatively calm and grateful to be physically whole. Emotionally it has been messy. I have felt some fear, frustration, gratitude, compassion, and I can also pick out some specific pieces of the grieving process such as moments of depression, anger, denial and bargaining. I can sense at times that I am at trying to rush myself towards acceptance. I want to see the lessons and opportunities that this experience is going to provide without having to go through all of the pain associated with it. It is not something I can rush, dodge, or ignore. 

I am in process. In my grieving, my growth, my pain, my successes and struggles. Surrendering to that process and accepting it is where I can find serenity and peace among all of the messiness. I am okay just where I am. 

Transforming grief

I give myself permission to grieve

I recently spent 8 weeks teaching a class about conflict resolution and mediation. It was without question one of the most rewarding classroom experiences I have ever had. I invested myself heavily in the class. It was the first time the course was being taught so I was fortunate to be able to create it from the ground up. It allowed me to take risks and push myself to imagine what could be possible in a classroom. I am passionate about the topic and the power it has to transform individuals and relationships. Each week I practiced the vulnerability and depth of exploration I asked of the students. I poured myself into the teaching and I watched with awe as they willingly stretched themselves. They took ownership of their own learning processes and wrestled with difficult and uncomfortable ideas. The growth I witnessed was inspiring. Some of what I challenged myself to do each week was terrifying, but it was authentic and true to who I am. 

As the class drew to a close I started to notice myself feeling sullen and withdrawn. I had a difficult time evaluating their final papers. I did not seem to be able to muster the energy I needed to give them the type of engaged feedback I had committed to. I began to realize I was grieving. 

Everyone experiences loss. For me those losses trigger fear. I was afraid that I would never have an opportunity to teach like that again, afraid of losing the connection we had all created, and afraid that I would not be able to maintain the changes I had personally made during that time. 

It is normal to grieve, and necessary. Allowing myself to experience it allows me to continue moving forward rather than being trapped in the past. The difficulty I was having is that I do not recall a time in my life that I have allowed myself to do that. Grieving can bring feelings of sadness, anger, confusion, helplessness. In the past I have denied my grief, sheltered myself from those hard feelings and compartmentalized the seemingly overwhelming emotions that would come. Giving myself permission to grieve honors the experience and has the power to eventually bring me to a place of acceptance. 

As I am practicing letting myself experience the grief process I have noticed a shift in both my perspective and emotions. I am grateful and gratified for what I was privileged to witness and experience.

What does embracing the grief process transform for you?