Item: 4 broken pieces of wood (Part II)

It seems like a long time ago that I ever would have been able to do something like martial arts. My elusive knee injury has had me sidelined for so long, and that has affected me in ways I never fathomed. I never thought of myself as so eminently breakable as I have the past year. I never thought I was indestructible, of course, but I had a basic expectation that my body would continue to do the things I needed it to do.

I've tried to be patient and hopeful about it, but I've more often been angry. Ordinary things like seeing someone sprint upstairs, or squat down to play with a child, or even sit down and stand up without any kind of anxiety, feel like they were especially designed to emphasize my exclusion from the normal.

I resent that I've had to become cautious, to forego a number of things that I would have otherwise done. I resent that I've even had to slow other people down. When I'm out in the desert, I don't want to be the person who says "I'll just wait here, I have a bad knee." I want to be the person who's climbing up on the rocks and yelling "Hey you guys, I can see the road from here."

It has given me, if nothing else, a profound compassion for those who have some permanent disability. I can only imagine the inner rebellion that goes on. I never thought. I always figured you'd accept your limitations and focus on what you can do, but I had no idea how hard limitations are to accept when you're the only one around who has them.

My next big job, now that moving is mostly finished, is to decide among the medical options I have, but so far I don't have a clear sense of what to do. More to follow as this develops.