Musings on the importance of slowing down and the healing power of Mother Nature

 

"a path to wellness"

 

The restorative power of nature is a widely acknowledged universal truth. Even the briefest contact with the natural world can have a healing effect.

During the Easter holidays this year, our wild and highly excitable young Labrador suffered a terrible fall on the first day of our Highland holiday, resulting in a particularly nasty fracture to his front right leg. It was a freak accident that no-one could have predicted. He was lucky to come out of it alive. Needless to say, the whole experience was highly traumatic for us all.

The holiday was over before it had begun and after receiving a couple of days emergency care in Scotland, we made the long journey home to obtain the necessary surgery required to fix his leg - some complex bone realignment and the insertion of two metal plates to support the leg and encourage the bone to heal.

A few days after surgery, we were allowed to bring Murphy back home to begin the long recovery process. I can liken it to the first day you bring home a new-born – the sheer panic of realising you are solely responsible for the care of something so precious, yet so very fragile. We were terrified of getting something wrong and felt almost paralysed by the fear of not being able to keep him safe during the long healing process.

We were sent home with a list of things he wasn’t allowed to do, such as climb the stairs or get on the furniture. He also had to be confined to a small space. Our day-to-day life completely changed overnight. Needless to say, the responsibility of being care-givers after such a big operation with no veterinary training was overwhelming. Stress levels were at maximum and the trauma of what had happened loomed large.

Walking is a very big part of your day when you have a young energetic dog. In the first five weeks, post-op, Murphy was only allowed to do five-minute lead walks. Suddenly, we had gone from two to three fairly long walks a day - the majority of which were off lead - to barely being allowed to go further than the end of the garden path. It was really frustrating - suddenly our world had shrunk and I missed the opportunity to clear the mental clutter of the day from my mind during those pockets of time afforded by the daily dog walks.

However, we gradually adapted to this new norm and after those first five weeks, we began to slowly and tentatively extend each walk by 5 minutes each week, as per the advised recovery schedule. This meant that we were finally able to make it over to a pretty wildflower meadow across the road. This felt like freedom, albeit a very peculiar restricted version, but some kind of release nevertheless.

From that point onwards, the additional five minutes gained each week became a gift we were eager to receive, slowly affording us a new stretch along the meadow and signifying another milestone in the recovery process. Flowers of note and hedgerow corners became markers of our progress as the length of our walks slowly unfurled around the meadow. The enforced change in pace became a blessing - we now had time to notice and marvel at every slight change in the meadow’s wildflowers, flora and fauna, as the season unfolded before our very eyes. With each new point reached, something new was noted and we celebrated the joys of having made another few steps further than the last walk.

In essence, this awful situation we had found ourselves in, although traumatic, had also relinquished a positive effect and encouraged a more mindful appreciation of Nature’s minute seasonal changes as we journeyed from late Spring into Summer and onwards through towards Autumn.

Flower heads unfurled before our very eyes, blackberries at first shy, slowly ripened and burst into shiny black jewels and we noticed how the wildflowers grew tall and began to bow their heads in the direction of the midday sun, like a Summer-long standing ovation in appreciation of its bountiful warmth.

I guess, if anything, the drama of these past few months has demonstrated the importance and pleasure of slowing down, of taking a minute to linger and to notice. I am indebted to the little wildflower meadow for the light it has bought to our shade and feel sad to see it fading in these late throes of Summer. But I will be waiting and watching next year as it re-emerges from its slumber and in the meantime, I will be sure to remember the valuable lessons it has taught us...

 

...the importance of slowing down, looking for the positives & celebrating the small things x