My granddaughter, Sophia, asked me again about the fall I took two months ago. She’s still concerned that I may have been embarrassed –as I describe the event, I did create a spectacular kerfuffle.
I suppose to a six-year-old it would seem I attracted a wealth of unwelcome attention.
There is that nasty scar on my upper lip—but there’s makeup for that.
My chin doesn’t feel like my chin—something’s different, but no one else seems to notice, so I can live with that, too.
And there isn’t any pain. Amazing!
Perhaps more significant than the physical reminders, I’m even more aware of a distinct shift in my interior. My thoughts are quieter. My activities are slower. What does this mean?
When I first wrote about the accident I referenced how I thought multi-tasking was at fault. I knew better than to take a brisk walk in a crowded environment, probably head down, with my iPhone plastered against my ear.
But, I ignored any internal warning. I was making efficient use of my time.
The efficiency of multi-tasking—the lie we tell ourselves.
Clifford Nass, a research pioneer in the study of multi-tasking passed away last week. A professor of communication at Stanford University, Nass was among the first academics to research and publish on the dangers of multi-tasking. His primary focus was analyzing how human interaction with technology has actually shortened our attention spans and interrupted our ability to concentrate.
I’ve read his work and been very interested in the topic since seeing him interviewed for a PBS Frontline episode at least three years ago. As much as I can say I agree with his hypothesis that we are really psychologically wired to be more deliberate and to concentrate on one thing at a time, I, like probably most of modern society, think I’m more evolved than my biological predecessors.
Post appointment with the pavement, I rather enjoyed sitting for a couple of days in a slightly altered state. I had little desire to do more than what’s necessary, took one look at my calendar and crossed out several appointments. They could wait.
I reached for Arnica gel for scrapes and bruises, but others suggested I also take the tablets.
I knew about Rescue Remedy, but I’d never tried it. I wasn’t badly upset by the fall, but I did feel a little shaky. Would these herbal drops have any effect on my overall mood and any residual anxiety?
Then there was the Turmeric tea. If turmeric tea is good, how about turmeric supplements? I’ll try it all.
And I don’t take Tylenol or Advil unless absolutely necessary, but I do occasionally use Traumeel.
Add in plenty of herbal teas, and it’s safe to say I was well medicated with homeopathic and herbal assistance.
Did these herbal measures significantly speed my healing?
I think so.
I have been amazed at how well and how quickly I mended!
But about two weeks ago I was still pondering the question, “Why am I so tired?”
I wasn’t running around at the pace I’d previously accepted as normal. I was eating an abundance of whole foods and taking all my vitamins. I was certainly getting more sleep than my previous average.
I was spending time enjoying the beauty of nature, visiting several of my favorite gardens simply for the joy of experiencing a quiet sanctuary.
Then the light bulb went on!
I wasn’t tired…I was CALM!