Everything Happens For A Reason (A Story of Blood and Granola)

I have gone through enough life to start to recognize that nothing happens for no reason. 

Even the most difficult, trying, and painful situations, that may seem impossible to make sense of at the time, always seem to have some unexpected truth borne from the ashes- even if it is years later.

Life is mysterious, unpredictable, and chaotic.  But I still believe that there is significance and silver linings in every seemingly unexpected turn of events.  

My experience of life thus far is relatively short. But I can still recall several occasions where life threw something at me that felt like a blow, but ended up being a gift that I didn’t know I needed.  

The walking boot I had to wear for most of Spring 2019

One such gift was a severed extensor tendon in my big toe. 

It was May 2019.  A couple years since in the worst of my eating disorder, and well into recovery… Mostly. I was eating regularly, flexibly, going out with friends, not over-exercising. 

However, my brain was still “hooked” on several compulsions and behaviours, and I was still operating under a huge fear of further weight gain.  I managed this fear through movement. 

While I was no longer working out for hours at the gym or running for kilometres on end, I was making every effort to maximize my activity everyday.  I was walking everywhere, taking the long way whenever possible, and even running a couple kilometres if the distance was longer than fit my time frame. I was doing yoga every morning, and often some other form of conditioning or strength training exercise in the evening if I wasn’t out walking.

It was never excessive in time or intensity, but the discomfort of being too sedentary in a day remained a lingering attachment of the days when it was.

The injury resulting from a jar of granola

I was frustrated.  In so many ways I felt “recovered”- except this need to walk and move.  And I was still not getting a monthly cycle, so my hormones were not up and running properly yet.

However, spring and the sunny weather was just ramping up, and the urge to join the legions of walkers and runners taking over the sidewalks was only mounting.

Then came a freak accident involving a jar of granola. After a late night of dancing and drinking at a wedding, I was at home, starving for breakfast. Wanting something fast and easy, I decided to throw together a big bowl of fruit and granola.

Somehow as I was grabbing the jar of granola off the shelf it slipped out of my hand and went crashing onto the floor (yes, I was hungover). 

Somehow, a piece of glass had broken in one very long shard, that landed diagonally across my foot as it shattered on the tile.  My foot was swimming in blood, glass, and granola.  

I’ll skip ahead a bit. 

At the hospital, I received 14 stitches to repair the severed tendon, a plaster cast, a set of crutches with the orders I could not bear weight on it for several weeks.  I was told that if I applied too much pressure that the stitches could break and the tendon would sever again.  

Suddenly, I was faced with one of the greatest challenges I had yet in recovery: I was being forced to be sedentary. My fear of not walking enough had become a reality of being unable to walk at all.  

Who knew granola could be so dangerous?

At the time, I couldn’t understand why the hell this was happening.  I blamed the freak nature of the accident, cursed my clumsiness, and moped in misery and frustration. 

However, I was told repeatedly by doctors to continue to nourish myself well, and how I still needed ample protein and energy in order for the tendon to strengthen and repair. 

So I had no choice, but to eat as I would normally, even though I was doing no movement that helped my brain justify the calories. 

And it was hard, the first week. 

But then it got easier.  I realized I could eat, and rest, and nothing drastic happened. 

After a few weeks I started to enjoy being able to sit around and chat with my roommates instead of walking across the city after work. 

It was freeing to read a book out on the porch, and still have a snack before dinner. 

And for the first month since the New Year, I got my period. My body was functioning even healthier than it was while exercising.

Yeah, the recovery process of healing that tendon sucked.  But now, along with the scar on my toe, I have been left with a greater sense of freedom regarding my relationship to movement, to my body, and ultimately, my intuition.

I still enjoy being active, but if there is a day that it doesn’t quite fit my schedule, or my frame of mind, I can go without.

While stillness is not always my first choice, it does not instill me with the same fear or dread. I know I can allow myself to rest, and more than that, periods of rest are healthy.    

In all honesty, If I hadn’t been forced into those months of stillness, I probably would have never been able to sit long enough to start this blog. 

It’s hard to dedicate time to hours of writing and posting when you’re compulsively walking everywhere.  

I still have the scar.

I’ve heard there are creams and oils to put on it, to make it disappear. I have yet to use any, because I really don’t mind it.  It remains a nice little token of the lesson I had to learn through a mason jar of granola.  

This is just one story of how life gifts you with something you need, even if you don’t know you want it. And the more of life I am living, the more I am realizing how often even the most uncomfortable or seemingly unfortunate of events ends up gifting us with some golden lesson or opportunity down the road.

Maybe what that is becomes apparent in the next month, or week, or year. Or maybe not until after you have lived your life time.

But it is comforting to think that in this big wide universe of ours, there may be some reason or meaning behind the chaos. I am not claiming to know anything.

But I will continue to embrace the idea that whatever life throws at me, I can handle it— and I will be stronger for it.

What lessons has life thrown at you?

xoxo

-Jordan