My husband and farm partner broke his leg last week while chasing down an unoccupied 1995 Toyota Corolla wagon named Rosemary. Rosemary was headed for a deep, cement-lined ditch. She fared just fine as my husband redirected her by steering through the open window. He’s the one who took the seven-foot cliff-fall onto cement, breaking his left tibia just below the knee.
I know on the outside this sounds like misfortune. And certainly it’s not an easy situation for us. But it is a gift that I feel deeply grateful for.
Our life has needed restructuring for several years now. We were – and still are – overextended. Way overextended. We have taken on more than we can do well, but between dreams, passions, and the necessity of having an income, neither of us could figure out what to drop, what to keep, what to change.
We needed a break. Not the kind where you walk away for a while and then come back and start again, but more the kind where you walk away and don’t return, or return but with a different intent and purpose.
The pattern of this broken leg is showing us the path to the restructuring that needs to happen in our lives. It has created a template for where to start and what to focus on.
My husband is the one in bed, so his projects are first up for changing, downsizing, redirecting, completing. Our projects are very interwoven, however, like a cell and its mitochondria, so as he makes his choices and decisions, I too must look at where I will make shifts, what I will change.
We are early in this process, but as we have waited for the swelling to go down, for X-rays and CT scans to be taken so that the orthopedists have enough information to advise us on setting and casting the bone, I see the healing and restructuring beginning already.
We are on the path of good fortune.