I can walk. I have use of both of my legs, pain-free most of the time. Today, as I let these two legs of mine carry me to the mailbox a couple streets over from my place, the realization that I was walking without any pain came to me like a new sensation again. Not everyone has use of their legs. And even when they do it's not always without pain.
If you've been in my life or reading these posts you know that I injured my knee over a year ago while running. Feel free to go over other posts for more details. The summary I'll give here: multiple doctors, multiple diagnoses (even two different diagnoses from the same doctor), and three rounds of physical therapy between two different places over the course of eleven months - and now I'm walking without pain, redness, or swelling about 98% of the time.
I went out with friends last night and we danced some. That's another reason my walk being pain-free today was remarkable. I even started running again in October. I'm so grateful that these things can come back into my life again - dancing and running - two of my most favorite things in the world.
It's strange. I mourned the loss of those two things that I loved. Now that they're back I'm really grateful, but I also kind of don't care. I know that I'm able to be happy without them.
This last year - and really my whole time here in Philly - has sort of resembled the opening lines of A Tale of Two Cities. It's been an adventure of contradictory experiences and feelings: devastating, hopeful, going perfectly as planned and also full of unexpected surprises. I've been incredibly afraid and alone. I've been wonderfully cared for and surrounded by community. I've been surprised by pain. I've been overwhelmed by joy. I've been disappointed by so much conflict, hatred, blindness and pride in our world. I've been comforted to see so much love put on full display in the sacrifices of those around me. I see racism - subtle and blatant. I see a Church - a multicultural, multiracial, multigenerational Church - that loves each other well in word and in deed, and the effort to get up and try again where they've failed. I have the best job and see and hear some of the worst things. I have so much that I want in life and there's so much that I want in life that I don't have. In short, life is pretty much the same here as it was in Oklahoma.
I can walk.
I could do that in Oklahoma too. But I'm happier about that phenomenon here than I was in Oklahoma. It should probably be a good reminder to myself that the best changes - the changes that are truly good and make me truly happy - are the changes that happen in me rather than in my circumstances.
