Serenity

God, Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change, Courage to change the things I can, Wisdom to know the difference ~


I'm trying to hang onto a little serenity today.  It isn't easy.

Yesterday I was still soaring from the day before, and decided to push myself a little farther with PT, so I added on ten more repetitons and was feeling pretty proud of myself after my first session. I usually follow up with ice, and I think I did, but maybe not.  When I attempted to do my second session in the early afternoon, I found it quite painful.  I had to quit riding the bike after only two minutes.  When I looked down at my knee, I realized it was swollen, again. I did the responsible thing and put ice on for awhile, but it didn't help.

I hobbled into my PT session at 4:00, still swollen after several sessions with ice.  While Mindy put me through my routine, she also suggested that I build up slowing on adding reps.  We talked about the "no pain, no gain" idea, in that I'll continue to have pain, and will have to work through it, but I need to build up slowly.

Serenity defined is: calm, peaceful, untroubled. Ho boy, not exactly a definition of my state of being lately!  Oh, at the moment, reclined back with an ice pack wrapped around my knee, laptop precariously balanced, pain meds beginning to take effect, I'm feeling a little more peaceful than I was an hour ago.

The Serenity prayer has been an old standby of mine as long as I can remember.  I'm told it was my mom's favorite prayer.  A few years ago at a garage sale, I found a little old fashioned plate from the 50's with the prayer painted on, that hangs on my wall.  I vaguely remember that we had one like it when I was a kid. A reminder of something I have in common with my mom, who died when I was nine. Short and simple, sometimes it's the only form of prayer I can manage, especially when faced with challenges that seem beyond my ability to cope with.

Accepting the things I can't change, with calmness, is incredibly difficult for me.  I'm not a calm person.  I'm a reactor, so I like to skip over the first part of that prayer and jump right into being courageous to change the things I can in pretty much any situation.  I'm a doer, a list maker, a person who wants to make things happen and get things done.  I am not calm, but I'm pretty courageous!

As I wander aimlessly through the desert of this current recovery period, I want to will myself to be calm in the face of setbacks, lost ground, and the occasional distant oasis.  Can I learn to be calm, peaceful, untroubled?  I'm not sure.  It's my goal for today, though.

Today I accept the things I cannot change . . . surgery and the resulting recovery, which includes the physical limitations I sorely chafe against.  This requires that I be patient with myself, and reasonable with my expectations.  It likely requires that I give up on some of my goals for myself, with wisdom and peace, today.  I need to remind myself that my one major goal for this summer is to heal to the best of my ability.  In order to do that, I need to treat my body gently and lovingly, not as my enemy, but as my closest friend.

Calmness requires that I am patient, oh so hard for me to be.  Perhaps, just for today, I can find serenity, or allow serenity to find me.