A Shattered Kneecap Reminded Me How to Practice Non-Attachment

My life changed one year ago.

I shattered my kneecap in an ice skating lesson.

The skating teacher said I was ready for a new skill— picking up one skate to cross it over the other while skating in a circle. I didn’t feel entirely confident, but I’m one to trust in my teacher’s judgment.

SMASH!!!

I should have trusted my judgment.

I tripped on the tip of my skate, landed on my right kneecap, felt my belly and chest slam on the ice, and then the front of my helmet hit the ice.

I am 100% convinced that if I were not wearing a helmet, I’d be writing about traumatic brain injury right now.

I screamed so loudly that I was confident I put shivers down many spines.

I kept telling myself I had just dislocated it.

Every medic looked at my jangled leg and sighed, “It’s probably more than that.”

I spent a hellish afternoon and night in the ER hallway because there were no rooms.

The surgeon could not operate because of a rush of bizarre accidents requiring the operating room and sent me home.

I had to wait two weeks for surgery to put the pieces of my knee back together.

I was in pain.

I was in a lot of pain.

My knee, my leg, …not to mention that my emotional self was in a state of deep mourning.

I wallowed a moment in the “Woe is me” mentality before remembering, “Hold up. That is NOT who I am.”

I am action-oriented in my life.

Why should recovering from a shattered kneecap be any different?

I told the YMCA I would continue teaching my yoga classes with assistance from my boyfriend, a beginning yoga student who lovingly practiced in front of the room so I could call out alignment cues visually.

I never once thought I'd be unable to TEACH.

I knew in my soul I'd get my knee back.

It took countless hours of physical therapy at home.

It took every ounce of focus and energy to get my quadricep to activate so it could lift my leg. My quad had atrophied a significant amount.

Despite my frustration of not being able to move like I did before my accident, I practiced non-attachment.

Non-attachment is a practice in which you do not attach to a way of being, an outcome, or an emotional state. You are simply present with what is, and you work with it.

I learned to detach from my past body— I would not know that body again.

I thanked her for all she had done for me, but we were moving forward with a new set of circumstances.

After my knee surgeon had wired my bone fragments back together, I lovingly called my knee “RoboKnee,” knowing that the technology would help me become stronger and more resilient.

I practiced loving-kindness to myself and my knee.

I massaged her with oil every day (yes, I gave her pronouns) and kissed her after physical therapy sessions, thanking her for working hard.

I did not compare my efforts and results from one physical therapy session to another— each was different because I am different from moment to moment (we all are!).

I changed the name of my living room to the “movement studio” and bought a stand-alone ballet bar to use for balance while I worked on strengthening my knee.

Practicing non-attachment let me stay present with my circumstances and let my knee surprise me with what she could do.

I kept faith in her and myself as her keeper and did the work. Period.

But, breaking my knee opened a new world- sprint triathlon.

I finished my first race five months after my second surgery, with blessings from my physical therapist and knee surgeon to take on this level of activity.

I finished two more races after that.

I committed to myself and never took naysaying or pity from others’ looks into my heart. If I had, I would have been attached to their ideas about me.

My message: surrender and hold onto your light in the face of extraordinary hardship. YOU know your truth. Work hard to honor it.

Be present by feeling wonder for your experience and practice gratitude for what you have.

Practicing non-attachment will help you enjoy the journey, even if it is arduous.