Grounded: What Forty Days Without Walking Taught Me About Stillness, Control, and Surrender

Happy Sunday, Writer’s Block Party Crew.

It’s so good to be back. It’s been too long.

Last we connected, I was basking in the brilliance of community, an adult kickball league, and a new church home. The last month or so has made me that much more grateful for that period of peace and perspective because October was anything but that.

Without getting too far into the details, I’ve spent the last month or so dealing with some unexpected health challenges. From hospital stays that felt eerily reminiscent of my accident just over a year ago to making relentless calls to track down specialists, I have been focusing all my energy on navigating the healthcare system, hoping to get some answers. What. A. Mess!

In view of the continued government shutdown that hinges in part on the availability of affordable healthcare coverage, I could write an entire piece…or book…or series on healthcare in America. (I mean, I might). I’ve been extremely privileged, and even so, I’ve sat in the uncertainty of a major medical crisis (now multiple times) with no answers of when/how/if I would receive care. I’ve written letters trying to persuade doctors to see me. And I’ve cried in pain without answers. For weeks.

Affordable, accessible healthcare matters. So much.

I’m extremely thankful for the support of family, friends, and providers working together on my behalf.

View from my hospital room. So many feelings.

But this week’s piece isn’t a personal overshare, a cry for help, or anything of the sort. Although I’m still struggling to make sense of this time, I’ve had plenty of time to reflect. And the last forty-one days have brought into focus some things that I hope will reach and resonate with someone who’s reading this right now.

You’re More Than What You Produce

When I left my last job, I spent a long time redefining my priorities, reframing achievement, and rebuilding my reality. And while so much of it looked different, one thing remained unchanged: an obsession with production. In the context of a performance-based, stressed out, spread thin American culture, it’s easy to understand why, and it was only when I couldn’t do much of anything, that I realized how my output had become the basis of my identity.

I’d stripped away the title, but unconsciously rebuilt a life of busyness, losing the beauty of quiet moments and simplicity along the way. And in being forced to pull back from almost everything (again), I’ve been able to more intentionally focus on what matters, how I want to be, and who I am separate from what I do. That simple distinction has made a world of difference in my outlook as I slowly return to life.

Community Crystalizes in Times of Crisis

Now the pseudo-evolved, more self-aware version of me would love to be able to say that I used this as an opportunity to humble myself and ask for help. But alas, I’m still very much a work in progress. Instead, I masked my struggle, mostly hiding from the truth and from the outside world, but a few kind souls saw me in need and took it upon themselves to reach out and help. It was that unsolicited assistance that ultimately made all the difference.

And while I’m still learning to let people support me, I realize and appreciate that my community is everything I could ever need: a kindhearted group of people who lead with empathy, genuinely care, and show up even before they’re asked. The Writer’s Block Party family is an extension of that God-sent group, so shout out to all of you.

I get by with a little SO MUCH help from my friends.

If you haven’t, I’ll take yet another opportunity to remind you that pouring into your community, especially in times of uncertainty, is one of the most important investments you can make. You may be busy, overwhelmed or tired, but you’re not alone. Or at least you don’t have to be. Please never lose sight of that.

Sitting Still is a Skill…

I’ve also realized I am HORRIBLE at sitting still. But for more days in a row than I can count or care to disclose, I sat. No manuscript. No music. No shows streaming. No busywork. No meetings. Nothing.

And it was incredibly difficult.

So hard at first, I even took to reading a book on sitting still that a friend recommended…for a second time. (Great read, highly recommend!). Now, I’m still no expert, but in not defaulting into doing, I found greater clarity about most everything.

Highly recommend How to Sit by Thich Nhat Hanh. Thanks to my dear friend, Aba, for the recommendation (and for having the patience to suggest it...again).

I didn’t write (beyond journaling). But I thought of writing, and of you all, every single day. And now I’m back, more grateful, more aware, more engaged, and in many ways, more whole.

In being forced to strip life down to its very basics, I earned myself the privilege of slowly, intentionally building my reality back even better. If you’re overbusy, overburdened, and overcommitted, find make time to sit still. You’ll thank me.

…And So is Producing in the “Rain”

Finally, I learned about producing when circumstances fail, when the path forward looks broken, when I’m in pain, and when the things I love to do feel impossibly out of reach.

On one of the worst days, I came across a powerful piece of writing that reminded me to continue fighting even when storms arrive and things fall apart: “Friends, storms come with wind and rain,” the writer wrote. “Success does not come without its challenges, but just know—if you’re being led by your inner-sight to go forward, keep walking. You may get wet, but the waters will not overtake you.”

Silver lining: Rediscovering my puzzle passion.

So, Keep Going!

While staring down uncertainty, frustration, and fear, I’ve decided to keep going. And today is a small step in furtherance of that.

Thank you for reading. Thank you for caring. And thank you for being my inspiration to push through this storm to brighter days.

Your turn. In what areas of your life have you allowed your mission to get overshadowed by stormy weather? Where do you need to fight back rather than allowing adversity to have the final say? What social cause, special project, or personal goal would benefit from your refocusing and forging onward? On a different note, when was the last time you truly pushed pause to gain perspective?

Consider both and make some adjustments. I’m cheering you on from the sidelines. Keep pushing. You’ve got this.

I don’t take a single reader or a single day, for that matter, for granted. It’s great to be back. And while I’m incredibly encouraged by some of the recent political successes (more on that soon), there’s still so much work to do.

Borrowing from JFK, “If not us, who? If not now, when?”

Until next time…

If you’re in need of some extra credit reading on how to slow down and find more joy, you may enjoy The Monster’s Worst Nightmare, Slow Down, Savor More, or Happiness in the Hallway.

Mentally centering for the battle and need a piece that packs a punch? Got you. Take a look at Dear Columbia Law School or Still Short of Breath: On George Floyd, Memorial Day & Continued Dream Seeking.

And if you’re new to The Writer’s Block Party, Welcome to the Party & I (Still) Have a Brain Injury give great context on who I am and what we’re building.

I’m so glad you’re here!