Back from a Break

Observant readers might have noticed that I have been absent from stillvoicing for that last number of weeks. Some of you who know more of my life than others may have suspected that this is because of my broken elbow. This is, in fact, correct. My writing has been restricted by a broken elbow incurred the Saturday before Palm Sunday. I had surgery on Easter Sunday (all quiet in the hospital that day). I was in a cast for two and a half weeks after that. The cast disabled my ability to type but it did not impend my opportunities to learn, and so I share with you three important lessons acquired while in a restricted modality of life.

First lesson: go slow. The first bit of advice from my orthopedic surgeon to me after my surgery was “Don’t fall!” He repeated that after the removal of my cast. It was a fall that broke my elbow. While on a run I hit a patch of ice and took the full weight of my body on my right elbow. I am right dominate so the learning of going slow was nicely foisted upon me. But the good physician and my accident have commended that as a way of living. Going slow means savouring moments, and being present in the places you find yourself.

Second lesson: do less. Those of you who have broken bones or sustained other injuries know well that tasks done without any ado become impossible to do. And so, I had to learn to do less. But I had to learn to do less in a rather busy time. This happened at the end of term when marking was due. I tend to provide quite a lot of feedback on papers, which was now impossible without the ability to write or type. Instead, I made use of the audio file option on our online marking system. But the file only allows a five minute long file, and so I had to be succinct and direct in my comments. I had to do less, a practice that demanded doing what I did well. This, too, is a good life lesson, I think.

Third lesson: ask for help. I was unable to drive, and so my good wife became my chauffeuse extraordinaire. But she helped me with so much more, tying my shoes, making my meals, etc. Of course, she wasn’t the only person to help me out. Neighbours and colleagues helped me out with rides and this and that. Something as simple as having doors opened for me helped me to see that being helped is a way to affirm our common humanity and build relationships. Students, my hairdresser, and others helped me with coats, carrying things, and more. It is a humbling but humanizing thing to ask for help. I need to do this more, and I suspect most of us do.

Go slow, do less, and ask for help. These are things that my broken elbow said to me, and still says to me even while I have begun the slow process of healing. These are life lessons. I suspect I have heard these maxims before, but they have a certain gravitas now that is grounded in the source of the voice commending them: my body.