Or Practicing What you Preach

So you know that saying, “Just when you think that it could not get any worse….”

It does.

Molehill (Yup! You know it. Here we go again!)

I finished taking a yoga class, and was on my way to the coffee shop. It’s Portland after all, and time for my weekly meeting. Coffee ordered, feeling good, drank more water. Phone is buzzing like crazy in my purse.

Mountain

Hmmm… there are several texts, and I just missed a call from my husband and noticed that I actually missed two from him. The intuitive Mommy’s-this-does-not-feel-right-sensor sprang to life. And the uhoh springing to my lips before I even have a realized. I called him back.

He answers the call and the first thing out of his mouth…”Honey, I am in the ER of OHSU…” (Well, my head, heart and adrenals just kicked in, or out as the case may be.)

Everest (Big and looming)

Not passing go. Not collecting anything. Not thinking clearly. Not being calm inwardly. Feeling a bit fluttery, airy, ungrounded. That rug was just pulled out. (Thank goodness I did yoga that morning!)

My dear friend offers and then drives me to the ER, as I realize that I don’t want to be alone. I don’t think that I could follow my Google directions to the ER anyway.

Dump Truck of Lemons!

We get to his room in the ER and he is fine. Banged and scrapped up pretty badly. But fine. No head injury. (Thank you Guruji!) Nothing broken. (Thank you again Guruji!) And he was almost ready to be discharged and come home.

Now after getting ice packs, showered, seated, and finally fed, things seemed to calm down. Time to start the insurance calling. Calling family. Preparing to tell our daughter.

And then I get an incoming phone call from a number I don’t recognize. I answer it, in case it’s the insurance company or some such thing.

It was the woman that hit my husband. And I am thinking while she is talking, “HEY! DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU DID?!!?!?!” (Sorry for the caps, but it was really loud in my head.)

In my head, maybe heart, I suddenly realized that I am not listening, and she is apologizing. And she is repeating things, a sure sign that she was under duress.

I stopped my thoughts, backed it up and started to answer her carefully honestly and with as much compassion that I could access.

Of course…no…you must feel bad. He is fine. Ah-ha! He is fine. Really, he is fine!

She goes on to tell me just how wonderful he was in the moments following the accident, supporting her, calming her down. Letting her know that he was in fact okay.

That he was glad that it was him that this happened to.

Bring On that Lemonade.

He was glad, because it was not as horrible as it could have been. And he could maintain his compassion for her, for how badly she was feeling. And thus divert his mind from his situation, his self-focus shifted onto her, and not the pain that he was feeling at the time.

I was thinking, as I was talking to this poor woman, of Swami Kriyananda and of Yogananda. What would they say to this woman? What would they want her to know? Maybe feel?

He will be okay. He will heal. And yes, we are grateful that it was not so terrible. Please try not to worry any longer. He will heal and it will all work out.