“What happened to your knee?” asked new friends met at Dr. Sue Morter’s alumni retreat. The storyteller in me jumped at the chance to share a remix answer, not realizing that by doing so, I was perpetuating the injury instead of inviting healing.
Since my knee was so swollen, it would not have looked terribly out of place on a holiday weekend watermelon display, this was not a smart choice.
“Well, I travel with a palm tree. You know, cause doesn’t everyone?” Cue the laughter reel.
Word that I’ve been pet sitting nomadically for almost seven years had spread quickly, so the only background info they required involved Persival Grant the traveling plant. Once a fairly ordinary house plant, the ponytail palm got bored of traditional living and hit the road with me three summers ago. He has served as my trusted copilot and companion ever since!
Unlike most trees, which generally prefer to stay in one spot, Persival has loved adventuring as much as I have. That is, until he outgrew his pot last year.
On a drive that featured no bumps or turns, Persival toppled over three times within ten minutes. I’d been in considerable denial that I’d been stunting his growth, so his more subtle requests hadn’t registered. Now he was letting me know, in no uncertain terms, that he needed a new pot. Pronto!
We were in the middle of nowhere, but within moments, a random nursery appeared, complete with two employees that seemed to have been expecting our arrival. Before I had issued a single word about the issue, one grabbed a bag of soil and the other ran over with a much bigger (and heavier) pot. They said f I’d waited another couple of weeks, Persival Grant would have perished.
I apologized profusely to Persival Grant, who was fortunately enjoying his new home too merrily to hold a grudge. He forgave me, and we resumed our journey.
Within a few weeks, however, a new problem emerged: he doubled in size.
Encouraged by more laughter and a growing audience, I continued to share how the knee injury began. As with all injuries, an emotional and energetic component proceeded the injury itself. (I’ll share about that in a future post!) Since I hadn’t been receiving my body’s messages, it was ready to turn up the volume.
Don’t Try This at Home (Or Someone Else’s Home)!
A cat sitting adventure brought me and PG to Boca Raton, Florida, where Persival enjoyed lounging by a large and luxurious pool for several weeks. He loved the humidity and I made sure to take him out of the direct sun after 11 a.m. each day.
“He’s a palm tree” scoffed a friend who makes him stay outside when I visit. (In fairness, her cat’s obsession with him leads to considerable chewing and puking.)
“He only likes morning sunshine!” I explained.
“He’s too sensitive! Look at all those other palm trees,” she said, pointing to big palms outside. “All day sun. They love it. Stop coddling him.”
I laughed, but still brought Persival and his heavy pot from the sun to the shade and back again each day. See where this is going?
After several weeks of doing this, I noticed my knee felt a bit sore but didn’t think much of it. I incorrectly surmised I must have slept on it awkwardly.
The deck that surrounded the pool was essentially a screened-in lanai, a wonderful concept when the holes are small enough to fulfill the actual purpose of keeping bugs out. But there in a house where the people could have paid me 10K a day to care for their sweet kitty without noticing a dent in their bank account, the holes were, well – holey.
So, when it finally rained, and did so all night, about five thousand insects flew in and attempted to claim my unintentionally overwatered friend Persival Grant as their home.
Instead of calmly researching solutions online or calling a nursery, I went into fight or flight mama bear mode. I took Persival out of his soil, placed the soil in various buckets, waived my typical no-kill policy, and hosed in water, creating a massive natural disaster for the bugs.
Then I created one for myself, while lifting the heavy buckets – which now contained mud – into the sunshine to dry. Persival survived the attack! My already aggravated knee, however, did not fare so well.
That’s only how the injury began, not why my knee was the size of a watermelon when I left for Costa Rica. It’s a very long story so you’ll have to wait for the standup routine I was encouraged to create about it to hear the rest.
We have more important things to explore today. Like:
The Epiphany
While I deeply enjoyed entertaining my new amistades with the story, it finally dawned on me that by doing so, I was perpetuating the injury instead of inviting healing. Like someone who had never heard of the mind-body connection or how what we focus on expands, I’d been focusing intently on how I got injured.
Although I had been answering compassionate and well-intentioned questions and building bonds with special humans in the process, I was putting way too much focus on the issue I did not wish to perpetuate.
Then I had an even bigger epiphany.
How often has my inner storyteller led me into undesirable situations, for the sake of entertaining and teaching others?
One of my mottos used to be, “What isn’t good for my life is good for the books.” Case in point, I am launching The Relationship Ride this summer, based on that real life soap-opera many of you loved following nine years ago!
In the book, I share how my teachers Michael Beckwith and Guru Jagat helped me open to the ways that even the most excruciatingly painful parts of that journey were serving me. I wasn’t yet studying with Dr. Sue back then, but when she received her new student baton, she ran that concept home for me. Learning how to work with the energies in my body was a profound game-changer.
As I heard her talk about not defaulting to our old patterns anymore on day one of our retreat, I made a commitment to stop discussing the injury. Surely, my inner storyteller could find ways to impart her wisdom and express her humor without continuing to affirm what I didn’t want!
“What’s wrong with your knee?” someone asked after lunch that day.
“Nada!” I replied. “My knee is already fully healed. I’m just wearing the brace for attention and love. No laughter this time.
“I’m joking! I’m not sociopathic – I just I realized I was focusing on the injury every time I answered similar questions this morning. But after the morning with Dr. Sue, I’m letting that story go and inviting healing!”
She commended my shift, and we shared a beautiful conversation.
From that moment on, I only spoke of my knee from the perspective of “already healed.” Until it actually was! Inviting healing led to quick and profound miracle.
Just over a week after not being able to walk across a room without crutches, I was – get this – carrying a small tree.
On the fourth day of our retreat, our group planted trees with Costas Verdes, an incredible nonprofit dedicated to reforestation. Before planting mine on the beach, I had to carry it there. You can’t make this stuff up!
Could I have asked for help? Yes, and I did. I asked the woman walking in front of me to carry my water bottle. I watched my mind insist that I was going to reinjure the knee, but I intuitively knew that despite its weight and the distance I needed to carry it, I was going to be just fine.
I could not have believed that much healing was possible, that quickly, if I hadn’t experienced it first-hand. So, how did it happen?
Well, that’s a story worth putting a lot of attention on! Stay tuned! Persival Grant and I are busy traveling but we’ll back next week to share more about the miracles that took place at that glorious retreat!
Click here for Part One of the Retreat Miracle story! Dr. Sue Morter’s Retreat (Part One) ~ LOVE WITHOUT TRAFFIC
