September 28, 2019

Time. Never in my life have I been more cognizant of its passage or power, its healing and hindrance, its ephemeral and eternal existence. One split second fundamentally changed my world, wreaking havoc, causing intense physical destruction, shattering routines and effectively bringing my life to a standstill. Now, each day feels like an eternity. The three weeks since my accident have been the longest of my life. I only wish days were this drawn out when I had long lists of tasks to get through, but seemingly endless hours are far from optimal when waiting for test results, answers from doctors, even my mother to return home from work — and primarily, when I so desperately want to heal. Healing of both body and brain requires time, and thus, on occasion, I get an urge to speed up the clock to see results of the recovery I feel so anxious and uncertain about unfold more quickly. In my mind, I know that each day brings me closer to full healing, restoration of strength and whatever my new normal will look like, though any such progress is not discernible in small intervals. It is frustrating, but I remind myself that I simply need to find a way to get from one minute to the next. I try my best to surrender to this new protracted pace of life, and in the process am discovering slivers of light. While simply making it through mealtimes or mundane tasks can be all-consuming physically and emotionally, I vow to make every moment matter — because each day is an unrivaled gift, never to happen again and never to be taken for granted. I have the time to sit with, contemplate and notice things that I would have raced by at my normal pace — and thus, I gain perspective, I learn, I grow, maybe even more rapidly than I ever would have without this unexpected pause in my life. Time may be exhausting, challenging, even infuriating, yet it always remains a blessing.