Agility

I ran across some photos of me on a church league softball team that reminded me of how I used to be able to move. I was never the best athlete, but I used to be fairly light on my feet, relatively nimble, and capable of at least passable proficiency at almost any physical activity I spent much time attempting. I'm not nearly so nimble on the baseball diamond any longer. 

I also discovered that I'm also not nearly as agile at tennis as I once was. We got out onto the court recently with the elementary school aged boys, who had never played tennis before. I was about like you'd expect, including a few times when the ball was lobbed over my head. As I turned and started heading back to the baseline, I realized that at one time it would have been easy to make that shot; and now I wasn't going to get there in time. Walking is hard enough. Running in a straight line is tough, and making a turn takes a lot of concentration. Running while looking over my shoulder and needing to move to one side or the other is almost disastrous (if falling and scraping my knee is a disaster). 

Someone recently asked me if, early on in the post-accident recovery, riding a bike was easier than walking. At that time I had to strap a crutch to my bike so that I could walk when I got where I was going. So, yes. When I first got on a bike again, cycling was easier than walking. In fact, even now cycling is easier for me than walking. When I'm on a bike, I can just ride. When I'm walking now, if I want to not stumble, I generally have to consciously think pretty specifically about which muscles to engage. 

And walking is certainly easier than playing tennis, or baseball, or basketball, or soccer, or racquetball, or volleyball. But I had fun on the tennis court. And it might be fun to try any of those other games again, too. I guess that means I have to add some agility work back into my fitness routine. 

I Can Curl My Toes

I can curl my toes.

I just realized that a couple weeks ago. I don’t know when I regained that ability, but I can curl the toes of my right foot.

Standing up at BCH

A few years ago when I was beginning to recover after having broken myself on the side of a mountain, I started learning that some of my musculature no longer worked the way it used to. The first time I got out of bed after the accident, I couldn’t do it - what I remember is that it took four people to lift me from the bed to standing, and then to move me to sitting in a chair.

At Craig Hospital, the amazing physical therapists helped me learn to walk again. I’m really glad I have the amount and degree of mobility that I do, because no one was sure what my outlook was early on.  

Still, as much as I’m able to get around pretty well these days, I feel like I hobble around. I still don’t have quite as much control over some of the muscles as I used to - not quite as much control as I would like to have. I still limp when I walk, some days more obviously than others. Left turns on the ski slope are much more difficult and unstable than right turns. I have to use my hand to pick my leg up if I’m gonna step up on a higher step (or box, or anything else).

And I could not curl the toes of my right foot. Until just a couple weeks ago. 

Early on I was told that the first six months after the accident were the most crucial for working to regain whatever mobility I could; then, after the first six months, I could expect another 12 or 18 months of continued, but slower, recovery. I recall the staff at Craig telling me that after a couple years they didn’t know how much recovery was possible, because there wasn’t data. My own personal experience indicates that physical recovery continues to occur, though is much smaller and more imperceptible amounts. 

Imperceptible, at least until I notice that I can curl my toes, and I remember that I was absolutely not able to do so a year ago. 

fwiw

Pilgrims' Feet

I climb stones

which, having born the weight of

prayers

Stairs at the Church of the Nativity

hopes

     tragedies

     dreams

     celebrations

     sorrows

     longings

     memories

are worn smooth, concave

by generations of pilgrimage

Three Traditions

I got to travel to Israel and Palestine recently. In fact, I'm writing this from Palestine. Unless you completely don't pay attention at all, you'll know that this part of the world is a holy place for at least three religious traditions and billions of people. I was lucky enough to be there during significant religious holidays. 

Easter Celebration in Bethlehem

Since I'm a Lutheran pastor, I wasn't really able to travel before Easter Sunday - so my son and I planned our travel to visit my daughter just after Easter Sunday in the Western Church. This happens to be a year when Passover and Ramadan and Orthodox Easter celebrations all overlap with each other.

There certainly is significant inter-religious conflict and strife. Still, and not to take away from the problematic realities of this holy place, to my perception it's a beautiful thing to know that while Passover is being celebrated, and while Muslims spend the days of Ramadan fasting before they gather together at sundown for a communal meal, Christians are bustling about preparing for Easter festivities. The way I see it, the reality that each group is practicing the disciplines of their faith alongside one another is beautiful.

Of course I know that there are undeniable conflicts between these religious groups; the sociopolitical realities of Israel and Palestine are more complex than this simplistic reflection can address.

And still, I think that there are worse things in the world than different traditions practicing their own disciplines alongside one another.

$0.02