I fell off the scooter and sprained my left ankle the other day.
It was the second time I rode a scooter on the streets, and I didn’t hate it. The sunshine and breeze in my face promised the soon-coming Spring, which cheered me up as I tread my way along the lakeside.
However, I wasn’t that proficient. So when I passed through a small crowd trying to manoeuvre to avoid hitting the pedestrians, I lost balance and fell right in front of two strangers. My left knee was scratched and smarting, and my left ankle got slightly twisted under the scooter.
Startled by my stumble, the lady I fell next to gingerly passed me some disinfection wipes while asking me if I was ok. My husband ran up to me with a stroller and my son on his scooter. It took a minute to get over the sharp pain on my ankle and get on my feet again. Thankfully no bone was broken. I was ok.
That night, my husband had to carry me on his back to use the toilet. The next day was a cloudless, sunny Saturday. I couldn’t walk because any pressure on my left feet would make it hurt badly. I had to jump on my right leg if I need to go somewhere.
I settled in the armchair, looking at the blue sky and tranquil sunshine outside the window, thinking about a previous blog post I wrote, The Power of Being Present. How can I be present today in the inconvenience and pain?
I remembered before I fell off the scooter yesterday, we went shopping in a supermarket. I used to treat grocery shopping as a tedious task–a means to an end, a time to be rightfully rushed. But this time, I decided to slow down and be present. I take time to pick the most beautiful mangos and put them in the shopping basket. I felt grateful by noticing so many varieties of products presented on the shelves. With this new intentionality, the whole shopping experience became surprisingly delightful.
I wanted to have that good feeling again, even when my ankle is hurting. With this end in mind, I suggested going for a drive. We would soak in the sunshine and explore some new places where we’d like to relocate later this year.
And that was what we did. We ended up driving up on a hill, parked by a small playground backdropped with the snowy Alps. Caleb had fun playing with the swing, and Esther giggly toddled around for the first time outdoor. We sat on my scarf and had a simple picnic with hardboiled eggs and cheese crackers. With some help from my husband, my ankle didn’t bother me much. I even managed to read two pages of my current book in the pampering warm sunshine. Nothing ecstatic, simple enjoyment was all there was for everyone.
It’s all about reframing and choices, isn’t it? If I hadn’t wanted a new narrative for that day other than pitying myself in pain and watching the nice weather pass me by, I wouldn’t have enjoyed the outdoor refreshment with my family.
We can rush through the tasks in life or pay attention in the midst of doing them. We can complain about the inconvenience, or we can be creative and constructive with our time in it. What if we always think about and choose whatever is true, noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy (Philippians 4:8)? What if we reframe our narrative of days with languages as such, both externally and internally? I wonder what story of our life would tell at the end of the day.
Dear friend, how have your days been? Whatever situation you find yourself in today, I hope you can reframe it with languages that give you hope and joy for a more cheerful storyline. More power to you! 🙂