Closer to Fine

As with all grief comes anger.  I was especially angry at God. How could He do this to us?  To me?  I felt utterly broken and defenseless.  I couldn't defend myself against the "when are you having kids" questions.  I couldn't defend myself against the images of mothers pushing their gleeful children in strollers.  I couldn't defend myself against the happy news that my best friend was still pregnant and due very soon.  I felt vulnerable, and ultimately, I felt broken.  I was a broken woman that couldn't be repaired.  Work couldn't fix me.  My husband couldn't fix me. And for sure, God couldn't fix me.  He let this happen.  I wandered through day after day, thinking that I was going to be this broken woman for the rest of my life.  That made me angry.  I wanted more for myself.

Amidst the emotional turmoil, I returned to my beloved practice of yoga.  I shared my story with my instructor.  She knew that yoga could be a part of my healing process.  I remember my first class back after surgery, she played the Indigo Girls' song "Closer to Fine."  At the end of class, she reminded me that with each practice, with each day, I could get "closer to fine." That resonated with me.  I couldn't imagine being "fine" ever again, but I liked the idea of trying to get "closer to fine."

Every day, in hot yoga, I learned how to "hold myself up" and to "be ok with being uncomfortable."  I can't tell you how many times I cried through the poses simply because I could.  This was a release and a support structure I'd never dreamed of.  In many ways, yoga helped me erase this "broken" label from my forehead.  I was strong.  I was closer to fine.