Last Friday I had plans with my wife and our daughter to go golfing for the first time in 2021. I was looking forward to this a lot. My daughter and I spent part of the morning getting our bags ready for the late afternoon outing and then went outside to throw a football around.
We were having a great time until one of her throws was going to go over my head so I started backing up, and then tripped, landing on the asphalt of our street. I thankfully managed to keep my head up, but the palm of my left hand slammed into the ground.
I lay there for a minute, dazed and in pain, and my daughter ran over to make sure I was okay and to help me up because a car was coming. My hand stung and I assumed I probably scraped it up.
We went into the house, washed my hand and was surprised to see no blood or even cuts, but the lower part of the palm of my hand was already swelling. I grabbed some ice and sat with it on my hand, doing a mental check of myself to make sure I didn’t feel any other injuries.
My daughter apologized profusely to which I responded that it wasn’t in any way her fault, and then she asked if this meant I wouldn’t be able to golf. I knew the answer was a firm no, but assured her that she and my wife should absolutely still go.
I ended up having x-rays that confirmed I didn’t break anything and the swelling was mostly gone by Sunday, though there’s still some pain. I’m hoping it’s gone by this weekend so I can join my family out on the course.
When I slammed into the street on Friday, it didn’t just mess with my hand, however. It messed with my anxiety as well.
I was thinking about missing golf, which as I said, I was looking forward too, and having things to look forward to can be important to my mental health. I also couldn’t practice my putting, which I’d done almost every day for several months, so I lost part of my routine, another important factor in maintaining my mental health.
Then, however, I was seeing on the news that the number of COVID cases in our province, in our city, are increasing and the ICUs are filling up. I saw that there was yet another shooting of a young black man stopped by police in the U.S. I saw that anti-mask protesters were gathering in large groups in our neighbouring province, condemning all restrictions and vaccines. How could I feel bad about missing golf, about not being able to putt, about even hurting my hand when all of this is going on.
All of this turned into an ongoing battle in my brain – upset about my hand and missing out on the things I was looking forward to, upset about everything happening in the world, upset that I was upset about my hand, and on and on and on.
In other words, not healthy in any way.
Right now I’m trying to maintain perspective, but also have some self-compassion. It’s okay to feel bad about my hand and the implications for my injury while also feeling bad about the dumpster fire. It’s not okay to berate myself for feeling bad about my hand and it’s not okay to ignore that fact that so many people are hurting right now.
I think that we as individuals and we as a society run into problems when we say it has to be one or the other and not both. Self-compassion doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have compassion for others, but having compassion for others doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have self-compassion.
Now I just need to remember that.
I think the trick is learning to be okay with paradox. But I haven’t yet figured it out.