Dear friends,
Three weeks ago, I went after a forehand at an indoor pickleball court and ran full speed into a metal garage door hidden behind a curtain.
I was knocked unconscious. When I came to, blood was pouring down my forehead, and I felt sharp stabbing pain through my neck. The ambulance arrived, and even in that moment, I was clinging to the illusion that I could simply walk away. My stubbornness insisted I walk to the ambulance on my own.
It took a while for reality to settle in.
The damage: a deep gash requiring 25 stitches in two layers (I was ready to play Frankenstein), and scans revealing fractures in C1, C4, and C5-6. So here I am, wearing a neck brace and hoping to avoid surgery. So if you see me on a webinar, know I feel better than I look.
As I sit here in recovery mode, a few reflections have emerged from this uninvited teacher.
The Kindness of Strangers
Living through these divisive political times, I had forgotten about the fundamental kindness that exists in people. In my most vulnerable moments, I was struck by the care of everyone who entered my orbit from my friend James who tried to stop my bleeding and knew to call 911, to the underpaid EMTs, to the entire staff at UCHealth Longmont who treated me with professional competence and genuine compassion.
It reminded me that beneath all the noise and division, there is still deep goodness in the world.
Mind Training When It Matters Most
In the ambulance, I became extremely hot, then nauseous. I felt myself hovering near unconsciousness. Something in me sensed that letting go might not be wise.
At that moment, I remembered a story the esteemed yoga teacher Richard Freeman told me about staying with sensation during his heart attack where he almost died. So I gathered whatever clarity I could and stayed open to each sensation and feeling, heat, nausea, bewilderment, and intense fear. All of it. I tried to let awareness, supported by my breath, hold the experience so it wouldn’t sweep me under.
At one point, the ambulance turned uphill and I saw the mountains and the colors of the sunset through the window. Even in pain, I could appreciate this beautiful planet.
And on a deeper level, recognizing that inner peace includes both pleasant and unpleasant.
Small Miracles
Grateful I wasn’t paralyzed, my next immediate need was a recliner to sleep in. Every place online said delivery would take at least a week. As a side sleeper, the first night was rough as my oxygen kept dropping into the 80s.
The next day my daughter Bella flew out. While walking around the neighborhood, we passed behind a synagogue and there sitting waiting for trash pickup was a beautiful old orphaned recliner. A small miracle, sitting there by the alley.
My neighbors helped carry it home. I’ve been sleeping in it ever since.
I suppose I owe Moses a thank you text.
Healing Has Its Own Rhythm
My ADHD entrepreneurial brain wants quick wins, fast progress, and measurable improvement. But healing has its own timeline. Some days feel like movement. Some days feel like retreat. None of it is linear.
I’m learning to listen to my body rather than trying to force a timeline. The body heals on its own rhythm. So I’m working on letting that happen, and spending less time on the computer.
An Invitation
As therapists and healers, we hold space for others’ pain and transformation every day. But when we’re the ones knocked down—literally or metaphorically—how do we meet ourselves with the same compassion we offer our clients?
I’m curious: How do you navigate your own healing journeys? What helps you stay present when your body or life insists on its own timeline?
Share your reflections in our free Therapy Wisdom community.
With gratitude for this messy, miraculous life,
Brian Spielmann
What you´ll learn:
- Vestibular Engagement for Emotional Regulation
- Using the Eyes to Hack the Stress Response System
- Subtle Sounds to Release the Peri-Trauma Response
- Effective Self-Holding and Self-Swaddling Techniques
- How and When to Apply Bilateral Stimulation
- Integration and Completing the Stress Response Cycle
