How I Broke My Ankle

And expecting the unexpected

I broke my left ankle over the weekend.

Believe it or not, this wasn’t included in my summer plans. I didn’t expect to be on crutches for roughly the next two months. I expected to be river rafting, zip lining, and hiking up mountains. But that’s not happening now. There’s a message in this somewhere about life taking its course regardless of how badly you believe it should happen or not. I suppose that’s what this post is about and why I’ve been mostly MIA lately.

I was with close friends and family at Arches National Park the weekend before last. There was an 8-year-old with us, and when we neared any boulder, he would begin climbing. It made me nervous, especially since the surrounding padding was more boulders. His lack of fear was both admirable and unnerving. I told him that if he fell backward, there would be no way to stop himself from falling. He retorted, “Yeah, but I won’t let myself fall.” It’s an interesting concept that doesn’t tend to jive with how accidents happen, but thankfully, he never fell.

Fast-forward to my first visit to a trampoline park circa late June 2023. It was a giant bounce house designed for anyone willing to sign a waiver and pay extra for neon pink grippy socks. I wish these places had existed when I was a kid. They’re incredible. And more of a workout than I’d anticipated, although that’s probably because I’m in my 30’s.

Witnessing children fearlessly pile-drive themselves into foam pits and stretchy fabric convinced me to ignore the risk-averse inner voice consistently instructing me not to jump, that what I was doing was unnatural and dangerous. So as we neared the end of our jumping adventure, the only reasonable next step was to end the night with a front flip off a diving board. Let’s say I stuck the landing, and my neon pink grippy socks did their job well, keeping my feet in place as my body continued to roll forward and to the side. Pop!

Photo by Flavius Les on Unsplash

That moment has played over and over in my mind. I desperately wish I could go back, not jump, and listen to the inner voice. Intuition is such a powerful tool. It should not be ignored. I intend to lean into my intuition to harness as much of that power as possible.

This sounds cheesy, but that intuition brought me to Substack. Coincidentally, I also ignored it when it told me I needed time to recharge. I don’t regret the time I’ve committed to building my Substacks or the fun I had while jumping at the trampoline park. The weight of things can seem bearable until they aren’t. Mental fortitude grows increasingly fragile when disregarded completely. So it’s time to heal. Time to mend broken bones and creative impulses.

Photo by Dustin Humes on Unsplash

I’m not stepping away, but I will post more haphazardly over the next month or two as I regain my composure. I’ve been less engaged after deleting almost every app from my phone two weeks ago, which has been somewhat therapeutic. I now have a “work” phone with everything business and Substack-related that I check in the evenings.

If I don’t respond immediately, it’s likely because I haven’t seen your comment yet or intend to return to it. I strive to give everyone a genuine response, which means carving out time when I can. The community has been the best part of Substack, which has been completely unexpected. I hope that each of you reading this continues to pave the way forward in whatever you enjoy doing, that success comes your way, and doors open up to things you least expect. And listen to your intuition when it tells you to take a breather.

At the very least, it could prevent a broken ankle.

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