Life Lessons
Starting in mid-February, Debra Silverman’s soon-to-be-released book, I Don’t Believe in Astrology, was my bedtime reading. Debra—a master astrologer and psychotherapist whose wisdom I’ve been benefiting from for 19 years—imparts many clear and powerful messages in her new book. One of the core beliefs she shares is that humans come to this planet to learn specific life lessons, and that pain is our primary teacher.
According to Debra, there is a higher plan for each of us—life lessons that are actively seeking us out—and our struggles identify what we’re meant to learn. “You are not here by accident. There is a curriculum, and a folder in the home office with your name on it.”
The key to navigating life with more ease, she says, is to drop resistance and cultivate acceptance. “Falling in love with your fate is the only way out. This is the purpose of life. Pretend this is your job description, and you can’t wait to go to work.”
Debra wrote, “Welcome to planet Earth where you will be presented with meaningful life lessons over and over again, disguised as your personal trauma drama, until you finally get the message—whether you like it or not. It’s the only way we really learn. Too bad no one informed you (until now).”
Reading Debra’s words, a part of me rebelled against a world view that sounded so harsh. I kept seeking out examples of learning through joy—not pain—like how I’m slowly learning to relax my nervous system and feel connected to universal life force energy through my qigong practice. I even texted Debra, “Don’t you think sometimes we are self-aware enough to know what helps us heal and grow and consciously gravitate towards that?” She replied, “You are such a Sagittarius, and yes, of course.”
Then, on Monday, March 3—while all of Debra’s messages were percolating—an accident suddenly upended my life.
I was walking my two large dogs when one unexpectedly bolted, yanking me off balance before I could release the leash. I flew forward, my left arm fully extended, then crashed down hard on our concrete driveway. The impact left me with excruciating shoulder pain, and injuries to my knees, hands, and ribs.
While I trembled from pain and shock, my husband Drew drove me to an orthopedic urgent care facility. X-rays confirmed that my left shoulder was broken (I’m a leftie), and I was told that my recovery would take three-months.
Myra’s beloved dogs, Henry (left) and Leo
By the time we got home that evening, most of me was hollering “NO, NO, NO!!!!” in vehement protest to my new reality. Even more upsetting than my physical discomfort was the growing list of things I could no longer do, including drive, dress myself, cut my own food, put my hair in a ponytail, play guitar, exercise, and write. My independence had vanished in a second.
Yet through it all, I could hear the whisper of a wise inner voice that was just loud enough to penetrate my pains and protests. It echoed Debra’s proclamations: There are important lessons you are meant to learn. Life will keep challenging you until you get the message. Learning these lessons is your job on this planet. Don’t waste this opportunity. Embrace it.
Although I knew my accident could have been much worse and all the inconveniences Drew and I were facing were ultimately temporary, that first week was very hard. My close friend, Trudy Anderson, who has experienced numerous orthopedic sports injuries—including a ruptured Achilles that took a full year to heal—was a greatly appreciated source of comfort and wisdom. When I asked her about the most important lesson she’d learned from her injuries, she immediately replied, “Letting go and having no resistance causes much less suffering for self and others. It’s amazing how much peace true surrender brings.”
Surrender. Yes, it was clearly time to surrender to my new situation, but surrendering turned out to be very nuanced and far-reaching. I had to surrender many old, deeply ingrained patterns, including clinging so tightly to my plans and routines, my strong aversion to asking for help and feeling like a burden, and how much I tie my self-worth to my level of productivity.
Having no choice but to slow way down, I’ve had to surrender the speedy way I’ve always rushed through life. Every routine task takes much more time with a broken shoulder.
I’ve also been diving deep into my pattern of complaining (my mother was a champion at it, and taught me well), and I’m learning the difference between venting and honestly expressing my emotions without excessive drama. I’ve had to mature—accepting that life can be hard, that no one can take away my pain, and that it’s up to me to be gentle, kind, and patient with myself.
Another huge lesson I’ve been learning is the importance of surrendering my static vision of what constitutes a “good day,” which initially meant being pain-free and able to do everything I could before the accident. I’ve had to stop comparing the present to the past and bemoaning what I can’t do, which means trading my loyalty to suffering for joys that can be found in the here and now, just exactly as it is.
Knowing it would be a long time until I could reunite with my guitar, I immediately bought a harmonica, and am greatly enjoying learning how to play it. I started shaking a tambourine and dancing—one-armed—while Drew plays guitar in the evenings, and have been belting out solo songs as he strums. These joys have taught me the magic that comes with overcoming self-consciousness.
So yes, Debra Silverman was right. Pain has become an effective teacher, delivering a crash course in life lessons I likely wouldn’t have gotten any other way. Just because it’s a harsh method doesn’t mean it’s not deeply transformative or full of gifts.
As I begin week five of my recovery, and my left hand is back online and my pain is much improved, I’m enjoying the healing process. Healing—both physically and emotionally—feels good, frees energy, and lifts one’s spirit. I feel lucky to have created this Quest for Eternal Sunshine platform devoted to wisdom, healing, and self-discovery, as well as very grateful to all of you that read my blog and join our free events!
During this time of slowing down, I’ve realized I often rush to complete my weekly blog. I’ve decided to make half of my posts simply a quote to ponder and a “Take a Moment” micro-meditation. I believe that writing with less pressure and more joy will inspire richer content.
This experience has also made me even more devoted to qigong than ever before. I felt an inner storehouse of energy from my practice sustaining me during the accident. Now, during the recovery process, it’s helping me stay closely in tune with myself, release physical and emotional tension, and trust my body and the healing process.
I’m greatly looking forward to our free event tomorrow—Discover the Magic of Slowing Down—with world-renowned qigong master Lee Holden. Lee is not only a powerful and engaging teacher, he’s also a joyful and buoyant human being who’s fun to spend time with. I hope you will join us!
