Common Bond
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The practice of yoga, mindfulness, and healing brings gratitude front and center
During this time of year, when we are reminded to pause and feel gratitude for our good fortunes and blessings, I realize that “thanksgiving” has not been an annual event for me in a very long time. The practice of yoga, mindfulness, and healing brings gratitude front and center – a daily pause kindled by the observation of life’s victories, no matter how small.
Several months ago, my brother was rushed to the hospital for a traumatic brain injury following a bicycle accident. This began a long journey of recovery, every day filled with powerful emotions, ranging from fear to gratitude. Below is an entry from a daily blog I wrote to keep friends and family updated.
Today I arrived to an empty room. Lee was in the OR, undergoing surgery to replace the bone flap that had been left off to allow his brain to safely swell as it healed. One hour stretched into two, and in search of a change I made my way to the family waiting room. Usually, I’m here only briefly to make a quick phone call or grab a glass of water. At times it is so loud and rowdy that it makes me uncomfortable, other times I am alone with the ticking of the clock. There were nearly 20 visitors today, gathered in small, quiet groups around the room.
A toddler drooled while snoozing across his mother's lap, her posture slumped in the hard chair with her purse propped between her head and the wall.
A young couple stoically discussed organ donation, wondering if it would be the entire eye or just eye tissue.
A quiet phone call in a lilting African language, eyes shining above a mask and filled with suppressed tears.
The smell of coffee brewing and the ding of the microwave as Mexican food was warmed and retrieved.
A skinny young man with trousers hanging below his bum playing games on his phone while he quietly nodded his head to silent music.
A young woman on her phone, her voice low and face hidden behind a curtain of fire-engine red braids that hung to her waist.
A teen on her phone, multi-tasking as she painted her nails and nodded agreement with the caller.
The resident explaining to an older couple – first in English, then in Spanish – that she was moving off their son’s care team and assuring them the new resident would take good care of him.
I found myself wishing I knew their stories and the stories of their loved ones. While the gathered souls couldn't have been more different, we were very much the same, united in our worries, our waiting, our grief. We shared a common bond. We were there to support and be strong for someone.
Lee's surgery went as planned, and he returned to his room calm and resting. In silence, I held his hand while I moved through my 108 mala beads twice. Once for Lee and once for those in the waiting room.
May he be healthy and strong.
May he be healthy and strong.
May he be healthy and strong.
May all be healthy and strong.
May all be healthy and strong.
May all be healthy and strong.
MB and her brother, Lee
Post script.
The above was written two weeks after Lee’s accident. He emerged from his coma nine weeks after surgery, was released to home care after 81 days in the hospital, and is currently undergoing physical and cognitive rehabilitation.
