By soul work, I mean the work I have done in therapy and through my writing practice to recover my soul, my essential self, not the self blindly constructed to fit in. Initially, I resisted going to therapy for the same reasons others do: a belief that I should be able to handle my problems myself, the vague shame and stigma attached to needing therapy in the first place, and lastly, I feared making myself vulnerable. Without that openness though, therapy can’t work its magic.

I had this sense I was being held back in my life by all I had been holding in. Therapy and writing helped me to reconnect with my soul and heart, and consequently also led me to view my mind with healthy skepticism. We should all be skeptical of what our minds tell us, always, still, I started seeing my mind, body and soul as interwoven aspects of myself, rather than separate parts, each needed and important for living fully.

So what does this very personal confession have to do with cycling? Therapy is helping me deal with the overwhelm of the accident. My therapist supports me as I feel and process the many consequences of the accident – including the emotional trauma of my injuries – the wounds to my spirit and soul – which have all been overwhelming. For much of the first few weeks, I had reoccurring nightmares replaying the accident from the hit to being thrown to crashing onto the street. Thankfully they don’t happen like that any longer but I notice even being in the car I am anxious and have an overreaction to the typical bad behavior of drivers – and that’s as a passenger. I can’t even begin to imagine ever riding on the road again. When cycling on roads you have to stay calm, focused, and just fully attuned to everything happening around you – in front, behind, to the sides, the road surface, other riders, etc. to ride and keep yourself safe – and still, you can be hit!

At times it all feels like more than I am capable of withstanding, like an assault on my very being. The pain, emotional and physical, is overwhelming at times and I end up in the emotional equivalent of the fetal position. Curled up against the world, tucked inside myself, hiding – trying to just survive. I have been in that curled-up state a lot over the last eight weeks.

I write to keep from going under completely and it helps, but only so much. Two days ago it all overwhelmed me and I gave in to the emotion, the pain, and I let it out. On paper and then in my therapy session. I let go, and felt, and cried – I grieved for what was and what now is.

Afterward, I felt a shift, maybe a bit of healing. And yesterday, the day after, I went out into the world, to my favorite place to hike and walked using my cane. Not far at all, but it was uplifting and soul-full. The sunshine and birds and the signs of autumn all around me helped me feel a little like myself. I snapped this selfie to capture this ‘coming out’ moment.