It was a frenzied morning and I was distracted by my list of things to do. I was worried about a friend, my mother was having a medical crisis, and I needed to get out the door to an appointment.

I made a quick turn in the bathroom, swung the door behind me—and Bang! I walked full speed into the door, which hadn’t swung close.

It was the kind of full-force hit that makes you wonder if you’re still in the same Universe.

It took me a day to realize I had a mild concussion. I wanted to tell people I had a car accident, or I hit a rock on my mountain bike—anything except I walked into my bathroom door (and I don’t have a mountain bike, so there’s that)!

My doctor understood; she’d seen much worse. But she was firm—no screen time, no reading. And TWO WEEKS of serious rest.

Impossible! I had just launched an online course and work was beyond busy.

I resisted. I wanted to read and keep up with my work. I tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal, but it hurt too much. My body’s message was clear.

So aside from reading an email 15 minutes a day (my wee bit of rebellion), I rested for two full weeks.

What seemed like a restriction at first turned into a blessing.

I listened more. I slowed down. I breathed deeper.

I discovered the more I relaxed, the more my kids wanted to do the same.

Instead of their usual bickering, they snuggled up beside me in bed. We connected, talked, and breathed together. One of them said they liked hearing the sound of my heartbeat.

We all started to slow down and notice things more.

I had more time to do the quieter things I love to do, like restorative yoga and taking long baths. I started to notice the weather and how it was impacting me. I sent prayers and protection to those I was worried about.

A slow walk around the block was my adventure.

The gift of banging my head was not just a reminder to slow down. It showed me how my pace impacts the vibe in my home.

Looking back, I treasure that little accident. I don’t need a concussion to slow my life down, but I do need reminders. What’s reminding you to take it easy today?

Thinking of you,
Carolyn