Physical therapy

This morning I had my first session of in-home physical therapy.  I cried three times:  first when I was shown than I could pull my foot back and kick better than I had imagined, second with the relief that comes from knowing I don't have to figure this out all by myself and third at the mere thought of perhaps, one day, again dancing a step or two.  The therapist reminded me that not all dancing is done standing up.  I will keep my options open.

We begin where we are.  We work with what we have.  We work and we work some more.  I began the exercises last Thursday and can tell I am able to do a bit more.  Life has this galling ability to cloud the mind, to make it seem as though everything has to be done right now, to send us into overwhelm which is the last stop before paralysis.  I have never been here before.  On my best days I need to sit and collect myself, my thoughts, my possibilities and then I need to sleep.  Much to be discovered, more to be revealed.  It is the first day of kindergarten.  I may cry again before the day is over.  I have no problem with that.

Blessings for all who help us, in their unique and necessary ways, become more than we thought we could.