Healing After Injury: Finding Compassion in Adversity

As a member of Rest & Restore’s team I am fortunate to spend much time learning from, immersing in and uncovering self-care tools and restorative practices. My recent acute injury/accident provided me with an incredible opportunity delve into my toolkit in order to find a smoother pace for recovery.

As a person in a helping profession, I feel highly motivated supporting my clients and community to find ways to restore equilibrium and find ease and, like most of us, often find myself moving at a fast past, multi-tasking and juggling many things at once. On the day of my accident/injury, I was moving too fast, my head racing on a to-do list that was taking me away from the moment and into a future that hadn’t arrived.

And then in one misstep, overstep or lapse in awareness, I found myself in a heap, requiring first response care.

Pain offers us all the defining jolt of bodily sensations, providing pathways toward protection and survival, adapting moment by moment. I was grateful for the initial adrenaline hit, allowing a sped up sense of scanning and assessment and the actions required for assistance; my “fight flight” response did a great job! When help arrived, I experienced a slowing down and gently reached out to my loved one to let them know I was in shock and that I needed their spoken words to offer safety. The prosody of voice and the rambling funny story relayed provided a level of co-regulation that held me well whilst we travelled toward our critical care destination.

Even at that time, I felt grateful my body was doing its best to keep me safe and directed some compassionate breathe as a thank you. As the team managed the first response care I stayed in connection with them, asking questions, letting them know what my experience was, whilst they assessed my injury and did their job. I didn’t hold back the emotion and recognised the importance of another beating heart when survival instincts kick in; a kindly first responder, a friend or family member and, at times, our own breath can provide a safe anchor.

After the important phase of critical care had been managed post injury, the more challenging component of recovery moved into the foreground; recuperation or convalescence. Being immobilised in a culture of fast tracking, with limited time for rest and recovery offered a deep, contemplative dive, I had plenty of time to unpack my own relationship with slowing down, receiving and staying present to what the moment to moment of recovery involved. Below are some of the important facets I considered in my slow recuperation.

•Can I ask for help? If so, who and how? What sort of help do I need? Can I let others know when this changes?

Being able to reflect on my own journey as honestly as I could and my tendency to give beyond the edges of my capacity, made it difficult to ask for help. I don’t feel I am alone in this truthful account; many caregivers and those in “helping professions” find themselves here. I quickly realised that not asking for help cut me off from the genuine kindness and capacity of others, thereby slowing down my recovery and diminishing self care. When I attempted to “do it all myself”, I would often fail and be left with sadness, vulnerability and frustration. We are fed the model of the individualised approach but can we really heal alone?

The necessity of my “small village” to restore harmony and space to heal was essential when I allowed it in. Consider who and what is part of your “village” - I would also include our pets here, the tree I spent ours resting my gaze on, a friendly podcast voice as part of my healing community. It took some days of trial and error, testing and seeking to find the right way to ask others - ie openly and humanly, in advance of what I needed and with flexibility to allow for the day to day changes. My inner circle broadened out to a wider circle when I felt ready to let others in rather than opening the floodgates and becoming overwhelmed. All of this required some difficult, sometimes messy but always heartfelt communication with my trusted few. An important wakeup call; that we can’t always be the strong one, in fact we are one just one limb connected to a vast network of branches that all rely on each other for health and harmony.

At all times remember the body

What exactly does this statement mean ? Both during and post-accident and throughout my recovery (still continuing), I have remained committed to listening to my body signals and adjusting movement, engagement with others and the outside world accordingly. Even prior to surgery, I had a conversational dialogue with my body; letting it know would be happening to mitigate a sense of threat and also that pain and discomfort would be present and cared for. I made a commitment to stay connected to my internal state and thanked the messengers when they arrived. I took my time with them which helped slow down the pace externally and became manageable. I developed an even deeper sense of compassion for what I was experiencing (still do) and continue to make more realistic and sounder choices for myself.

Pain can be a messenger

This is such a tricky one to navigate - how to stay aware of the body’s delicate state and also manage heavy duty discomfort. There is no one size fits all and its important to gauge your own threshold for discomfort. For me - mild pain improved my “listening” skills (interceptive awareness) to figure out what I needed - rest, quiet, comfort, connections, hydration and fuel. When I pushed outside the threshold, my body would increase its pain response and I was aware of muscles bracing as my body protected itself from my desire to move forward too fast or do too much. I was often
in a place of prolonged discomfort when I pushed, regardless of pain management protocol. I hold deep gratitude for the trial and error here and sense this will continue to serve me well beyond my recovery journey.

Don’t forget to breathe!

Breath has been such a valuable tool in my recovery - there are so many to choose from and it continues to be a constant way for me to pause and take stock of how I am doing, feel my feet on the ground and slow down the pace. I found several breath work practices held me in good stead, directly after my accident, pre and post-surgery and in the time of convalescence.

•Psychological sigh breath - to mitigate extreme anxiety and a sense of panic - this was employed as needed and only took a few breaths to calm my state and slow down the rapid internal pace of distress.
•Box breathing - measured breath counting to keep me present and welcome the moment by moment.
•Longer exhalations - to slow down the pace of mobilisation. Slow long exhalations offered a pause to take stock and stay with my body
•Longer inhalations - to increase energy and vitality - particularly good in the morning to great the day.

Gratitude

•For everything my body does for me and for everything I have taken for granted.
•For the slow progress and for the moments when I pushed too hard and my body
reminded me
•For the kindness around me when I let it in

Mostly, I am grateful for the reminder of my inner restorative toolkit and the opportunity to sift and sort through and experience the wonders of rest when recovering.

Retreat guests staying 3 and 5 nights at Rest & Restore Wellness Retreat create their own wellbeing tool kit during their stay. This practical resource rich support is one of many tangible tools guests take home to continue their restorative journey.

Allison is one of our Restorative Program Facilitators, and owner of Reset Wellness.