I’ve had my share of holiday excitement in the last few days; I feel like I’ve been running on adrenaline, so today I’m moving in slow mo. Which is much needed. What started out on Thursday as a fun-filled holiday adventure turned into a little bit of a nightmare. Husband, Morgane, babysitter and I all headed to Big Sky for the night. We met up with husband’s colleagues for dinner in a yurt on the mountain Thursday night, plus some wild sledding too, which was an amazing and unique experience (note to anyone considering joining us for our yoga & skiing retreats, this is on the agenda!). Since I had never heard of a yurt prior to moving to Montana, here’s the scoop: a yurt is a large, circular, fixed walled tent. Today’s yurts are a modern variation of the ancient shelters used by central Asian travelers in the mountains of Mongolia, Siberia and Russia for centuries. Yurts are known to withstand extreme conditions from high winds and snowfall and are well insulated, remaining efficiently heated in temperatures below -40 degrees Fahrenheit. Pretty cool, don’t you think?

We woke up on Friday morning to crystal clear blue sky, with the promise of a glorious first day of skiing. First run of the season – expert skier husband wipes out, and seriously injures his knee. What followed is still making my head spin: ski patrol taking him down in a tobaggon, me following on skis then snowmobile; driving back to Bozeman and straight to the orthopedist’s office; getting the news that he fractured his tibia and tore his acl, and realizing we won’t be having our ski dates this winter; the pain finally settling in and the look on his face when it did; scheduling surgery for this coming Tuesday; wondering how the hell we were going to pull off a holiday party for more than 50 people on Saturday at our house. Fa la la la la, la la la la.

On a more reflective note, I kept thinking how fast everything can change. The beautiful, bright mountain morning gave no hint to the few seconds in this day that would change our lives significantly. While I am grateful that it was his knee and not something like a head injury, the road to recovery will be long. We’re going to have to change the way we do things; many of our plans evaporated the moment he fell. Who anticipates such events? It’s a real wake-up-and-smell-the-coffee type of thing. As the reality of the injury and its impact dawned on us, husband started to panic, which I could have easily done as well; instead, a mantra formed in my head: don’t worry about what you can’t do, let’s talk about what you can. Let’s work to find the opportunities here, not the limitations. Many times we fight what’s happening to us, with the hopes of altering the outcome. In our situation, there isn’t that option. We’re just going to have to tackle this head on and move through it with as much grace, love and support as we can. And it dawned on me how much easier acceptance is, vs. the fight. And this is coming from a fighter.

Yesterday as I was running around like a crazy person preparing for our party, someone said to me, sometimes you just have to punt. It might sound silly, but I was repeating it in my head all day. Like, Just Do It. Move your ass. Don’t let whatever it is knock you down. It’s calming yet motivating at the same time. So, perhaps in its own weird way, this is our big Christmas gift this year. We will find the opportunities that grow out of adversity, be grateful for them and other (more obvious) blessings. Namaste.