Standing on my Own Two Feet: Part Two

Have you ever wondered with certain traumas, accidents, incidences, experiences, who is really the “traumatized” one? The person that actually has the experience or can it maybe be sometimes the people around? Is it possible that a woman can be raped and it is less life impacting on her than to her husband? Or a father has an accident and his son is the one that is left with the scars? That maybe a person listening to a traumatizing story feels more pain than the actual person who lived through it?
How much of what our experience of an event is actually ours or those around us?

Have you ever considered that sometimes our experience of a certain event can be influenced by the feelings, emotions, thoughts, points of view of those around us and the world around us?

Today is the 21st anniversary of when I was hit by a car and broke both my femur bones (and ironically it is the 21st today 🙂 ).

(If you haven’t read “Standing on my Own Two Feet” you are invited to read it here:—lifes-mysteries/standing-on-my-own-two-feet).

A few of weeks ago as I sat by the lake I found myself once again crying about the accident and not understanding why. It didn’t seem like I had any pain remaining. I had dealt with my feelings and emotions. It turned out there was another part needing mending…a much deeper part.

I came to a profound and shocking awareness that day. Sure it was horrible, however it was actually not such a big deal for me, well not in the way you would think. My whole life I always felt I had to forgive myself for something and I never knew what. Logically I have always been a caring person. I never have tried purposely to harm anyone or do anything ‘bad.’

I have always been aware of other people’s feelings, emotions, thoughts, energies…VERY aware. You can label me as an empath or whatever you want. We kind of all are. I was always highly sensitive to such a degree where many times I felt guilty for feeling great when everyone around me were “suffering.”

During the accident recovery period I was bedridden unable to move, go to the bathroom, get a glass of water for six months. After that there were crutches for another five months. If you ask my mother about it she always says how brave I was, and calm. So sweet and how I never complained.

I have always felt an undying trust in life, a knowing. I always felt and said no matter what I will be ok because I choose to be ok and I truly felt it. Nothing would ever break that.
I came to the awareness that the deep pain I felt, was not because of what happened and all I went through. It was the awareness of how my family around me felt during that time. I was so deeply aware of their pain, frustration, anger (with themselves, me, and each other), helplessness, sadness for what I was going through that I took it on as mine. It does not mean I did not have any feelings of my own.

However it hurt me immensely to watch them hurt. You see in my eyes I was the cause of their suffering. Maybe they were more freighted, shocked and traumatized than I was. Watching me be in immense pain, unable to walk, is not something easy to bare. It crushed their trust in life, their reality.

I watched how frustrated they would get to have to carry me to the bathroom (and those who know me know I go a lot hahahaha), bring me water, turn on the TV, their feeling of helplessness. Were they really frustrated with me though? No. They were frustrated at themselves…with life. Being around me was painful for them.

It was EXTREMELLY heartbreaking to feel their pain or perhaps I was picking up on their heart break for what I was going through. In a way I blamed myself. Somehow I created the belief it was my fault, that I was responsible for that. I was never able to forgive myself for taking away their joy and putting them through that.

So what was the worst part for me? Watching my loved ones be in pain and not being able to do anything about it. I found myself saying “I didn’t mean it.” I felt shame. I wished I could have taken their pain away as that is what they wished for me. So basically we are all delusional!

We all experienced grief from that experience, no matter from who that feeling started. We all lost a part of ourselves (so that we could rediscover it again and be even more powerful yay!).

Fascinating! I find it so cool as I write this. Isn’t it amazing how sensitive we are? To everything around us? How we form or take on beliefs, ideas, thoughts, feelings and emotions? Heck I realized I was even picking up on the shock from all the people in the village, the island as it was a major traumatic event.

I realize in many difficult moments I was not experiencing through my body but theirs. Ooopppsss!!!

My body feels great relief right now. Perhaps a self-forgiveness…forgiveness in general or is the proper word acceptance?

I remember many, many years ago asking my brother Prometheus (he was there with me when the car hit me) what his experience of the accident was, what it was like to be there, and he replied that he does not want to talk about it. I told him if he ever would like to share I am here. I have yet to hear anything.

“We seldom realize, for example that our most private thoughts and emotions are not actually our own. For we think in terms of languages and images which we did not invent, but which were given to us by our society.” ― Alan W. Watts

After getting my bars removed from my legs and I could finally walk and go to school I felt sooo happy and fantastic! I was on top of the world, confident as hell, joyful, nothing could stop me and no one could understand why, mostly in school. I was the famous tragic event on the island. I thought something was wrong with me for feeling this way. However I felt empowered. The whole experience had given me immense inner strength. It was a privilege, I became aware of my own strength and power. Others felt I should be sad, broken. Of course right? This is the general point of view of the world. I remember being upset when I would see people’s responses and comments when I told them what happened as if poor me. I didn’t feel like poor me. I didn’t feel like a victim!

Even with the scars on my legs remaining from the bars I had no problem having them exposed in full sight. I wore short shorts all the time because that’s what I liked. It didn’t matter to me. Then gradually after watching other people’s point of view of them, staring at me, viewing them as something terrible, I began to take on that point of view. I watched how it made them feel uncomfortable when I told them what happened. It gave them fear, sadness so I began to view them as something wrong something to feel ashamed of. I slowly slowly began to cover them with more clothing and be seen less and less in public until it became a never, and extremely uncomfortable if they were to be seen. I feared the glances and the remarks, the judgment. I actually love my scars, they are part of me. My warrior scars as I call them. 🙂

“Be proud of your scars. They have everything to do with your strength, and what you’ve endured. They’re a treasure map to the deep self.” -Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I remember having lots of thoughts during the whole event where I still found it fascinating and cool what I was going through. Even when I was in the ambulance after I had been hit. I was in extreme pain and I remember having the thought “oh this is a cool experience, this is what it is like. I wonder if I won’t have to go to Tang Soo do class for a while” hehehehe.
I remember when I was on the ground on the road, after being hit and I was surrounded by all these strangers. All hysterical, screaming trying to figure out what to do. It was overwhelming. I just wanted to be left alone and was thinking “geez they are being dramatic.” They were scaring me with their panic and reactions.

I remember recently my sister telling me that she met someone from my school from the same grade and he told her how my accident had a profound impact on him. He will never forget it he said to her. How he watched the teacher call out my name day after day and I was not there. I had no idea. I have barely ever spoken to this person. We are such sensitive creatures as humans whether we want to admit it, or accept it.

When I first injured my back many years ago and had a four year journey I have always said it was the best experience I ever had and everyone looks at me like I am delusional. It opened up incredible adventures and life time experiences ever! Discovering who I was and finding my center.

Or when I fell and injured my knee and it took five and a half hours for me and my friend to get me to the car. We thought it was broken and had to maneuver over rocks, hills and all sorts of obstacles. You know I actually had fun? Sure it was physically painful and scary my predominant feeling though was “dude this is so cool!”Its like in a movie!”I was laughing and joking throughout the way (maybe my friend thought I was mad) it was so ridiculous though what we had to go through and how creative we had to become. I never bought the point of view this should have been a horrible experience because simply it wasn’t… well not for me anyway.

Or when I got lost in the forest (yes I did hahahaha…) and had to spend the night there. My sister, mother, ex and family freaking out hysterically, even though I assured them I was perfectly fine and it was no big deal for me. It was a freaking amazing experience especially because of the free helicopter ride hanging from a rope in the air getting the whole view of the forest hehehehe…it was awesome!!!

“Sometimes I’m doing things considered crazy by others, but then my heart giggles. That’s when I know I am doing the right thing.” ~Dodinsky

You see as humans we are so sensitive to other people’s feelings, emotions, and thoughts that we so easily adopt them as our own, as the truth. There is no ultimate truth my friends. Only our truth at that moment in time.

I wonder. How many times in our lives when something happens an accident, an incidence…how much of our experience, our reaction, and feelings are really us or due to our point of view on how we should be feeling, acting, based on what we are taught is “good” and “bad,” or the way. Do we ever know how the other is really feeling, or experiencing something? Or are we looking at it though our point of view or society’s point of view?

What if what is painful, frightening, saddening, or traumatizing for me is not for others and they wouldn’t even glitch an eye? What if what is painful, frightening, or saddening, or traumatizing to others is not for me? We are all different. Is happiness, joy and fun not individual to each? Are we not all individuals?

What if we didn’t allow ourselves to create an event into an awful experience just because of how we should “think” or feel about it? Be it, only if it is coming from us, from within. What if it has nothing to do with will power or strength? What if it is simply about whether it is us or we are taking on some other person’s or the world’s point of view? What if we asked questions before making assumptions, judgments about what is considered a trauma, accident, disability, or “bad?” Allowing acceptance for the individual, or individuals involved. What if doctors, nurses, therapists, healers, asked these questions and had no point of view? Imagine how different the world would be!

“Asking the proper question is the central action of transformation- in fairy tales, in analysis, and in individuation. The key question causes germination of consciousness. The properly shaped question always emanates from an essential curiosity about what stands behind. Questions are the keys that cause the secret doors of the psyche to swing open.” ― Clarissa Pinkola Estes

I was aware of many gifts I received from this experience, and now I am aware of even more gifts 🙂 So much awareness of me, people, and the world around me.The most important gift I received was the awareness of the impact just one person can have on the world around them. How one event can shift reality just like that. Imagine what we can create!

It truly was a gift. Who knows maybe there are even more hidden gifts I am not yet aware of 😉

More mystery remains. On the other side of the world one of my brothers had a freak accident where he was hit by a car a week before me. As he was in a flower shop a car came flying in, hitting him, and taking him underneath it. Brother and sister hit randomly by a car, almost dying, and extensive recovery period, within a week. I wonder what is behind this synchronicity? What awareness is about to be uncovered next? To be continued!


and a video I made on it…



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