Confession Tuesday: The Where Have I Been? Edition

Dear Reader,

I write to you from my sweet leather couch holding my laptop and my cat, Midnight In Paris.

It's been months since I've written. Six weeks since I've blogged.

You see, I let commitments, events, projects, busyness, get the best of me. And by best of me, I mean all of me. And with those go-go-go moments, Mach 10 with my hair on fire, I knew I would eventually crash. And I did, literally.

To the confessional--

Hi.  I'm Kelli's van. 

I confess this is my van, which I totaled last Thursday. I rear-ended a huge metal truck because I took my eyes off the road for two seconds. That's it. 

I was distracted and I looked down and accelerated into a huge truck that was stopped. It was like driving into a brick wall. Airbags deployed. Medic, police, and the fire dept. arrived and I was whisked away in an ambulance to the ER wearing a C-collar and completely woozy and struggling to breathe normally.  Good times.

I confess it scares me how quickly a life can change.

And I confess, I had heard about Bruce Jenner's car accident and had said, "I bet he was texting! I bet he was googling himself!" -- Karma.

I was not texting or talking on the phone or putting on lipstick. I looked down for two seconds and slammed into truck. 

What I have noticed about myself is in the last six weeks is that I have been doing too much. I've been saying yes to things, squeezing other things in, running in second gear. I have been a sidetracked, multitasking, too-much-on-my-plate, overwhelmed American woman/mother/poet/editor/writer. 

I've been saying, "It's got to slow down soon."

And I knew I was going to crash, but I didn't think in this way. (I was thinking a little more metaphorically.)

When my nurse was giving me pain medication, she said to me, "Consider this your assigned vacation." 

Since last Thursday I have been on the couch or in my bed. One day I tried to go out for a ride, to look at a beach house, I took my pain medicine and off I went--the next day, I felt terrible and slept for 18 hours.  Too much.

For some reason, I seem to think I'm invincible. I push myself a lot. I ride my mountain bike like I'm a fifteen year old, sometimes like a female Evil Kneivel trying to ride across logs, fly over jumps as if I'm unbreakable. Sometimes I paddle out in Puget Sound without my life jacket. Though I do not consider myself a risk-taker, I usually know how far my body can go, but I think I need to take a few moments to consider my body and my life and how far I can push them both.

The thing is, when your mind is not engaged in the moment, you are screwed.

No matter what you're doing--talking with a friend, driving a car, riding a bike, doing a task. I realize for the last couple months, I haven't been in the moment, in fact, I've been wanting the moment over, wanting to be done with being so busy. I keep looking ahead--oh, I won't be busy *then* - in a few weeks, I'll have an open calendar. Then it fills up. I kept wanting to do less.

And now, ironically, I am. I am sitting on the couch taking naps. I am watching Iron Man, Guardians of the Galaxy, Midnight in Paris, and The Avengers for the umpteenth time. I am resting.

I am taking long baths with books of poetry.

I am seeing friends I haven't seen in while because they've arrived with treats for me and dinners.

I am doing what I should have been doing all along except I wasn't.

It's funny when the universe gives you a cosmic stage direction-- Kelli, you weren't supposed be over there, but over HERE.  Living mindfully and deliberately. Enjoying a simple life. Writing. Having downtime and friendships. Enjoying your family and your life.

I am still healing. My head is a little funky, my shoulderblades, a little achy, and still a few tweaks in me, but I feel myself getting better. It could have been a lot worse. Much worse, and I know that. Deeply.

So my guardian angels were working overtime that day and I thank them. 
And Universe, your message was received loud and clear as well. I'm listening.

Slowing down, friends. Slowing down.


~ Kells

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  1. I had a very small kitchen fire a few weeks before Christmas. That was my hint from the universe to slow down. Glad you are taking care of yourself. Get some rest, my dear! XO

  2. Oh Kelli! So sorry for your crash how scary and I'm glad you're okay. So glad you're okay. Miss you. Writing soon.

  3. So, so sorry about all this. Rest and heal, dear.

  4. So sorry to hear this, but glad you are on the mend.



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