For a year, people have asked me “what happened?”
That’s pretty much “what happened.”
Except not even close.
That was the catalyst for “what happened.”
The “what happened” is so much more complicated.
Because “what happened” is, in fact, still happening. A year later.
How do I describe an experience I had when I’m still having an experience around it?
To be clear, I don’t mean that I’m still having symptoms from the concussion.
The direct concussion symptoms are mostly gone by now, although too much screen time is still a big trigger for me.
I don’t think that’s a bad thing, by the way. Learning about the need to rest my brain is one of the best gifts I ever received in my life. Realizing just how little most of what happens on the internet and social media actually matters was a bonus lesson.
The experience of the shifts is what continues.
It was a blow to the head that opened the door to my soul and set me on a new path to awakening.
I love this quote from Rumi:
Don’t turn your head.
Keep looking at the bandaged place.
the Light enters you.
This is the best way I can explain what happened. What’s happening.
The blow to the head wasn’t just about sustaining a concussion and sitting through months of post-concussion syndrome.
It was a Defining Moment.
It opened my heart and my soul. It showed me where I needed to let go and who I needed to become. It gave me the opportunity to deepen my faith and my trust. It taught me valuable lessons:
How to hold the space for myself.
How to be present to my experience.
How to get comfortable with stillness.
Ok, I’m still trying to get comfortable with the last one. With all of them, actually.
And that’s the point. It’s not done yet. It may never be done.
It is still opening me. Still showing me. Still offering opportunity. Still teaching me.
I suppose that’s the real mark of a defining moment: they aren’t static.
They set us on a path that is so vastly different from where we were that they continue to define us as we travel forward.
This is where I am. One year later, in a place quite different from where I thought I might be. Embracing my experience. Allowing it to unfold. Defining, and re-defining. Not merely changing, but evolving.
This is the journey. This is life.