Giddy up

20171204_225355It’s been a while! Quick summary: I loved my job at The Royal Conservatory for two years, but with Noah growing up sooo fast and Liam fast on his heels, as well as having fallen in love with martial arts, I took a job at what I will now refer to as The Academy as their operations manager in September. Anyone who thinks small business is calmer is crazy but being close to home and in the middle of the action has been really great. I still miss the RCM crew a lot.

Everyone asks, so I will say: I have a green belt which is not very close to black belt. 🙂

However in great irony, I broke my leg about two weeks ago!

Blessings of a broken leg
I have only been injured doing martial arts twice. Both times, I was pretending to be someone else. The first time, I was learning zero kicks (where you go right down on the ground as you kick) and I was imagining myself being Wonder Woman and ended up on my elbow. Later I realized the scene I was picturing was not a zero kick. Also, I am not Wonder Woman.

The second time was two weeks ago. I was learning jumping side kick, which looks like this although…lower, less spectacular. One of my fellow students, who is a young man, was inspiring me and so as I took my steps towards the target I was picturing the way he had done it. It was a perfectly decent kick from all accounts, but the landing was a little rough. I heard a snap, went down, and sure enough, I broke my fibula in two places and have new hardware.

My brain seeks patterns in all things, and so here’s lesson #1: Stop trying to do martial arts as someone else.

Or, you know, life.

I’ve been on a quiet path of renewed self-discovery over the past few years, but one part of my identity I haven’t plugged back into at all is storyteller. And so I’ve been stumbling around a bit. So here we go, back on the horse.

Here’s a moment. Everyone is out of the house on various errands this morning and I got myself coffee. I got a bag, filled a Contigo travel mug with coffee at the pot, put the mug in the bag and hobbled to the fridge, put milk in the mug, put the mug back in my back and hobbled back to bed with it. (My leg is still stuck on elevation, having it down even for 10 minutes makes it swell.)

This felt a bit like getting the keys to the car. It’s nice to know you’re never too old to take adolescent joy in independence.

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