A couple of weeks ago I wrote about the challenge to remain serene in the face of all life's situations, to remember that the experience and the journey are the purpose and not something to be got past. Well, it seems that I'm being given an opportunity to put that concept into practical action.
During the last week, it has been easy to be happy with the fact that Ella, my lovely granddaughter, has been staying here with me. It's been a joy to share this beautiful place, go out on adventures and just chat for hours under the stars. Ella is studying art and photography, so she was presented with an abundance of subject matter and was enchanted by Crete, which she saw in all its weathers, from torrential rain and high wind to scorching sunshine.
She takes her A levels next year and will be off into the world, so it was really precious to have this time together and cement our loving bond that I intend to ensure will last a lifetime. I am so grateful for all five of these powerfully individual girls, my sons' daughters, who always have something to teach me and keep me on my toes.
Last Monday I was particularly glad of Ella's help and support as life dealt me an unexpected blow - well, to be more precise, the blow was instigated by Magic the dog. I was out walking the dogs and they were on leads to get them going when a pick-up truck approached us, quite slowly and carefully.
I decided to stand at the side of the stony track and hold the dogs to let the truck pass - but it seems I made the wrong decision because just as the truck was nearly upon us, Magic lunged suddenly towards it and pulled me over quite violently on to my back. I vaguely remember smacking down on to the road, hitting my head and the base of my spine, and then lying there, stunned and unable to move.
The poor driver must have wondered if I was even alive and, after what seemed like a very long pause, he got out of the truck and asked whether the dogs would be likely to attack him if he helped me up. I managed to garble in Greek that it was ok, so he helped me to my feet and went on his way.
In shock and pain, I started staggering back to the house and then remembered my glasses (expensive bi-focals). There they lay, on the other side of the road, bent and scratched, one arm at an angle and the other hanging off. The final straw. I started weeping with the trauma of it all.
After tea, a glass of 5 star Metaxa (Greek brandy) and a sit down, we decided that I didn't have concussion and I wasn't inclined to go to Chania for an X-ray. I phoned Colm for comfort, too, and he was wonderfully sympathetic and supportive as ever. The curious thing is that he had fallen off his bike the previous evening, after skidding on a crisp packet left in the road. He had hurt his ribs badly and was shocked and winded, but was heroically at work the next day. We had to wonder about the synchronicity of unwanted events...
For the rest of the week I took painkillers and waited for everything to ease. But my coccyx area is still very painful and I can't walk too far or sit or lie comfortably, so this morning I went to the osteopath/ acupuncturist. His verdict is that the whole area is very bruised and inflamed and he started some treatment which will continue on Wednesday.
The next time I passed that place in the track, I was surprised by the traumatic effect of the memory of the event. I can see why the word trauma is used for both physical and psychological events. The body is shaken and battered and needs time to mend and the mind is disrupted in its normal expectations of everyday reality and also needs time to heal. Thoughts can't help exploring 'might have beens' in an attempt to accommodate events.
And thoughts of what 'should be' also have to be adjusted. I had not planned to be obliged to rest and visit the osteopath this week, so my challenge is to practice what I've preached, not to be resentful of dogs or circumstances, not to beat myself up for deciding to keep hold of the lead. Even, as my cousin Palden says, to ask 'Where's the good in this situation? I am working on that one. I'll keep you posted....
PS Thanks to Jo for the photos, which show that the normal dog walking experience is not too much of a hardship.
During the last week, it has been easy to be happy with the fact that Ella, my lovely granddaughter, has been staying here with me. It's been a joy to share this beautiful place, go out on adventures and just chat for hours under the stars. Ella is studying art and photography, so she was presented with an abundance of subject matter and was enchanted by Crete, which she saw in all its weathers, from torrential rain and high wind to scorching sunshine.
She takes her A levels next year and will be off into the world, so it was really precious to have this time together and cement our loving bond that I intend to ensure will last a lifetime. I am so grateful for all five of these powerfully individual girls, my sons' daughters, who always have something to teach me and keep me on my toes.
Last Monday I was particularly glad of Ella's help and support as life dealt me an unexpected blow - well, to be more precise, the blow was instigated by Magic the dog. I was out walking the dogs and they were on leads to get them going when a pick-up truck approached us, quite slowly and carefully.
I decided to stand at the side of the stony track and hold the dogs to let the truck pass - but it seems I made the wrong decision because just as the truck was nearly upon us, Magic lunged suddenly towards it and pulled me over quite violently on to my back. I vaguely remember smacking down on to the road, hitting my head and the base of my spine, and then lying there, stunned and unable to move.
The poor driver must have wondered if I was even alive and, after what seemed like a very long pause, he got out of the truck and asked whether the dogs would be likely to attack him if he helped me up. I managed to garble in Greek that it was ok, so he helped me to my feet and went on his way.
In shock and pain, I started staggering back to the house and then remembered my glasses (expensive bi-focals). There they lay, on the other side of the road, bent and scratched, one arm at an angle and the other hanging off. The final straw. I started weeping with the trauma of it all.
After tea, a glass of 5 star Metaxa (Greek brandy) and a sit down, we decided that I didn't have concussion and I wasn't inclined to go to Chania for an X-ray. I phoned Colm for comfort, too, and he was wonderfully sympathetic and supportive as ever. The curious thing is that he had fallen off his bike the previous evening, after skidding on a crisp packet left in the road. He had hurt his ribs badly and was shocked and winded, but was heroically at work the next day. We had to wonder about the synchronicity of unwanted events...
For the rest of the week I took painkillers and waited for everything to ease. But my coccyx area is still very painful and I can't walk too far or sit or lie comfortably, so this morning I went to the osteopath/ acupuncturist. His verdict is that the whole area is very bruised and inflamed and he started some treatment which will continue on Wednesday.
The next time I passed that place in the track, I was surprised by the traumatic effect of the memory of the event. I can see why the word trauma is used for both physical and psychological events. The body is shaken and battered and needs time to mend and the mind is disrupted in its normal expectations of everyday reality and also needs time to heal. Thoughts can't help exploring 'might have beens' in an attempt to accommodate events.
And thoughts of what 'should be' also have to be adjusted. I had not planned to be obliged to rest and visit the osteopath this week, so my challenge is to practice what I've preached, not to be resentful of dogs or circumstances, not to beat myself up for deciding to keep hold of the lead. Even, as my cousin Palden says, to ask 'Where's the good in this situation? I am working on that one. I'll keep you posted....
PS Thanks to Jo for the photos, which show that the normal dog walking experience is not too much of a hardship.
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