Always Well Within

Calm Your Mind, Ease Your Heart, Embrace Your Inner Wisdom

Live and Love Right Now

Live and Love Right Now (Sakura)A few nights ago, I slipped on our wet steps while removing a colorful rain boot and simultaneously leaning over to move a pair of shoes.  In an instant, I fell over and rolled down 4 steps, landing on concrete.

Having tumbled down an entire staircase once before, at least 20 steep steps but probably more, I palpably recalled the sense of increasing velocity that occurs with each inch.  Fortunately, this time just 4 steps flew by till I thumped onto the concrete laying heavily on top of my left wrist.

Yes, it really hurt!  I felt in shock, but nothing was broken.

My husband gingerly helped me get up and into the house.  At the door, I boldly announced,  “My body is strong.  I can handle this.”

At the same time, I felt acutely reminded of life’s fragility.  Gratitude filled my being.  After all, I didn’t have a concussion or even a broken bone.

Nevertheless, as I sat on the bed trying to regain my bearings, my wrist throbbed and throbbed. I alternated calm with sobbing. My arms and hands shook and trembled from time-to-time.  I know the body releases trauma via these physical quakes so I felt confidence in its natural ability to care for itself.

I took an Ibuprofen for the pain, swallowed a sleep aid, and gently rubbed homeopathic Arnica cream on my left wrist and hand.  I then arranged my arm on a pillow to achieve the least degree of distress.  It took a little time for the pang to subside, but I managed to nod off and sleep well.

A Reminder to Love and Live Right Now

I know this is NOTHING, absolutely nothing compared to my friends who are recovering from cancer.  It’s nothing compared to the suffering of this world.

But I embrace it as a reminder to love and live right now.

I spend too much time in my head, deliberating my life purpose when it’s not that confusing or unclear.

  • I write on this blog to help and encourage others and offer my course so they find more ease.
  • I help people learn to meditate so they can be free from suffering and taste true happiness.
  • I work on the land to honor all the sustenance she gives to us.
  • I meditate to soften my own heart and to learn to live in the pure awareness of now.

I’m not ready to die.  I feel I have miles to go.  But I know what happens in the next moment is not within my control.

When it’s time to move on from this body, I know this life will be but a forgotten dream.  But the imprints of my habits will ride along with my most subtle awareness, dictating whatever comes next.

May I make more moments matter instead of reiterating the dysfunctional aspects of my personality.

May I relax and realize that everything is just fine, there’s no need to be tight.

May I let love be my guide and trust my sentinel as I slip into the the unknown, whether it’s the next moment or my final departure from this realm.


Over the 4 days following my fall, a bee stung me, a water pipe broke, and I managed to put the wrong type of fuel in my car.

These turned out to be powerful lessons when I slowed down and listened.  They especially showed me how I relate to emergencies – sometimes calmly and sometimes far less so.  The “far less so” encouraged me to look further into the source of my tears and fears.  Now I know I can take back my control.

Also, these challenges inspired me to delve into obstacles from a spiritual perspective, waking me up even more to what’s truly important to me in this quickly passing life.


What wakes you up to the fragility and preciousness of this life?  I would love to hear.

If my writing speaks to you, please sign up for email updates below.  And I would be so grateful if you were to share this post on your favorite social media venue.  Thank you.

Be well.  Be happy.  Be safe.  With love, Sandra


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  1. I have been there too Sandra. My mother’s decline in health….my surgery and almost loss of life almost 10 yrs ago from a bleeding ulcer gone undetected and almost too late to save me….I continue to ponder the fragility and preciousness of life. I sort of talk about it this TH on my blog.

  2. That’s so much, Donna! I look forwarding to hearing your thoughts on Thursday. I want to keep this memory of the preciousness of life in the foremost of my mind, in an inspiring way not a fearful or anxious way. I hope it adds to your life in a positive way too.

  3. I’m glad that you are alright and didn’t break any bones. These little reminders of our impermanence are exactly that. It’s too easy to get caught up in life without awareness or gratitude for all that is good and right with our world.

    Hopefully you’ll sail through this week!

    • I’m good! Thanks for underlining that this is indeed a reminder of impermanence, which is one of the best ways to get our priorities straight, isn’t it! Be well, Loran.

  4. Hello Sandra,

    Whenever I’ve taken a tumble (rarely, thank goodness!) – it has reminded me of how often children fall down during the normal course of play, but how infrequently we adults do!

    When kids fall (yes, even on concrete steps), many adults are quick to pull them back up, pat their little heads and insist loudly: “You’re okay!!” But when I fell on concrete steps a few years ago (landing slow-motion on both wrists, my whole body extended as if I were attempting to fly), I felt very glad that nobody was around to pull me back up and tell me I was okay. I most certainly was NOT (not yet, anyway, until the shock and stun began to wear off).

    The fragility of life question is such a good one. Most days I try to keep up the facade that I’m fine, just fine (even when that is clearly untrue) and the only time that facade cracks (again, rarely!) is when I have a week just like yours – with not just one incident, but another, and then another and another.

    Back-to-back reminders of my own fragility seem to magnify the effect of what I might be able to take in stride if only they weren’t heaped on top of one another. I wrote about this strange cumulative effect last year:

    I hope your wrist (and everything else!) continues to feel better.


    • Dear Carolyn,

      I feel like you were in my skin, you captured the essence of my experience so beautifully. I hadn’t really thought about how easily kids fall and usually recover quickly. I guess we’re a little bit bigger than they are. 🙂

      I want to have this awareness of the fragility of life more as I think it will help me keep my priorities straight – but not in a morbid or fearful way. I fully understand to desire the desire to keep on with the sense of being just fine. There’s probably a good rationale for both approaches depending on the particular moment in time.

      I look forward to reading your post on the cumulative effective. It’s known that the cumulative effect of trauma can wear down our resilience for sure. I’m seeing how important it is to rest even with these small injuries.

      Thanks for sharing so openly!

  5. Glad you recovered from your fall Sandra. That type of thing is no fun. When we have accidents or illnesses of any kind, it is such a great time to reflect and be grateful. I love this reminder as we never know what life has in store for us. Take care of yourself and hope your wrist is better!

    • Thank you for your good wishes, Cathy! I’m much better but I still have some soreness and black and blue marks that are gradually fading away. I love how you have captured the essence with these words: “When we have accidents or illnesses of any kind, it is such a great time to reflect and be grateful.”

  6. Ouch Sandra. They’re tough outer reflections of your inner being, but how wonderful that you are awake and aware and recognize that’s what’s going on.

    I’m so happy to hear that you’re healing within and without.

    It seems we grow in a multitude of ways, through entirely different channels and I’ve decided that I’m good to grow through joy and love and understanding! Wish me luck. 🙂

    • Dear Elle,

      The idea of “out reflections” adds another layer to understanding these incidents. Thank you so much, Elle. I’m delighted to grow through joy, love, and understanding too. I do wish you luck. You deserve all that goodness.

  7. What a beautifully written post! You captured your fall and its lessons so well. And it is so wonderful that you can find a lesson and meaning even in a fall down a flight of stairs.

    • Hi Daniela,

      It turns out to have even more meaning than I imagined! Thanks for your affirming words. I know how much you love good writing so they mean a lot to me. Be well!

  8. Oh my Sandra. I ‘m so glad you are doing well and nothing was broken. Ouch!

    So much truth in this post.

    One of my responsibilities is to handle the bereavement notifications in our church. I have to call and meet with the families. Then there is the actual services.

    It’s always sad and reminds me to do all I can to cherish the time I have with my loved ones. Laugh. Love. Dream. Live life with no regrets. And to do it all….NOW!

    Awesome post Sandra. Thanks for the reminder!!

    • Dear Kelvin,

      How courageous to take on such a post! That inspires me so much. And it surely is an in-built reminder to cherish every moment of life right now. Thanks for all the kindness you so generously give to others.

  9. So much meaning in life when you’re present enough to see! I felt life’s impermanence the most vividly when I’d been married a couple years and went to a doctor when I noticed a I had a blind spot. He casually mentioned that these are sometimes a side effect of MS and I imagined myself in a wheel chair and then gone. Since my great grandpa had lived with MS, it filtered my priorities instantly. In that day, I didn’t wonder what was important. I KnEW. I understand wanting to keep that feeling strong. For me it has ebbed but what I saw as important comes back if I remember.

    • That’s a powerful experience, Kendra! I know it must have been frightening in the moment, but at least know it can be a beneficial experience to remember. Thanks for sharing this with us.

  10. You caught me with being too much in my head. Somehow I don’t feel safe when I am not there, especially not when being around other people.
    What made me wake up to both, the fragility and the strength of human life is my own struggle with mental health issues. It made me aware how much I am in my head, how many harming thoughts I have and that all of this is keeping me from living life.

    • Dear Corinna,

      I understand! This seems to be how most of us live our lives, creating scenarios in our mind that may have little to do with reality and bring us more suffering than joy. Of course, I do that at times too. I’m glad you have so much awareness of this and can move forward with an appreciation for this gift of live.

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