The day began with a run. An early morning welcomed me as I laced my shoes and ran down the driveway. An unusually cool gust serenaded me. My eyes gazed at the sky. Cloudless and light, the sun still slept. With one my dearest friends, K. we ran a loop around our neighborhood, pacing a very casual, but effective run. These runs are my life line. They invigorate me with an energy that sustains me through the end of the day.
Yesterday, something rather unexpected happened. As my feet gained a quiet cadence against the brown jagged pavers, my shoe caught on the edge, and for five seconds my body flung into free fall. My hands cushioned my fall as my knees skidded against the hard surface. No broken bones, but two very skinned knees. With the adrenaline pulsing, I finished my run. Throughout the day, my knees burned, the purple and red strawberries hurting everytime the skin creased. I realized my injuries were superficial and minor, but they left me with an impression.
The forward motion of my fall, my inability to save myself from hitting the pavement, and the resulting blood will leave two very prominent scars on my knees. It made me think about some recent events I’d witnessed, some direct and indirect. I realize that sometimes being hurt is part of the breakthrough. It offers us the ability to heal. And I’ve always believed in the pendulum swing.
Without realizing the depth of one emotion, how can we embrace another? As I walked into the house, my daughter noticed my skinned knees. She ran to the medicine cabinet, she grabbed some bandaids and exclaimed, “Don’t worry, your knees will be better.” There is this need to fix, to heal, and patch up whatever ails us. Sometimes, at least I’ve come to realize, there is a benefit in trying to sink into the hurt. Without it, the healing is only superficial. Skinned knees. Sometimes they are essential.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
It’s why my husband likes sad movies. It’s good to feel the sad and sit with those feelings at times, he says. I never saw it that way. He likes sad songs too. I avoid them. What is it about me that just wants the happy? I get what you’re saying though. The pain and the hurts shouldn’t be avoided or suppressed – at least not if we want to live an examined life. Sorry for your raspberry knees. Such a sweet daughter to comfort and care for her mamma.
Lovely images that correlate to healing. The way your daughter tends to you is a tribute to how you have tended to her pain. Thank you for your wise articulation that we do not know one end of the feeling spectrum withiut knowing the other. Just like the next guy, i do not like to suffer or hurt, but i undrstand how much sweet the hurt free or lesser hurting moments are for first feeling the hurt. Love the running as life allegory… But really, you are flying!
I have had a couple of those ‘free fall’ moments. They aren’t fun. I am so glad that your wounds were only superficial!
What a beautiful picture – your daughter caring for your skinned knees with the reassurance that you would get better.
Once again, a lovely post. You really know how to put things in perspective. That makes it possible to embarce both the hurt and the healing.
What a wonderful analogy…the way you put it yes, sometimes skinned knees are essential.
I suppose it’s on us to learn from our pain and to appreciate the Trickster when we find ourselves free falling, however, I join your daughter in simply wishing you and your knees a healing balm and the relinquishing of suffering wherever possible. Namaste
I truly believe this too. I think it helps you heal faster if you embrace the skinned knees.
I find this to be so true – that we need to “sink into the hurt” as you say, so we can really heal afterwards. If we slap a band-aid on too quickly, and pretend things never harm us, we don’t learn our lessons. And the hurts offer the contrast to the joys, so we feel them more intensely.
A beautiful post.
So sad to hear that you were hurt, I hope you feel better soon. Xoxo