Since early January of this New Year, I have been rendered less mobile than I am normally.

Having had some necessary surgery on my left ankle to clear away the worst of the arthritic debris that has been hindering any flexibility in that joint, and to make the joint itself more stable, I have had my left leg encased in various forms of plaster cast. It will be so for another few weeks and then if all is well, I can begin weight bearing, instead of hopping, pivoting on one leg, or maintaining a precarious sense of balance on one leg while transferring to and from bed, chair, car seat, shower- stool, and such like. The plaster can then be replaced by a moonboot which is ready and waiting in my bedroom for that much longed for day!

These past weeks have presented me with various challenges, some practical ones, and some very personal ones. The practical ones have required me to think laterally and utilise my best creative imagination working through how some of the necessary daily tasks might be accomplished bearing in mind my limited mobility, and the realisation that there is only so far that my extra-long arms can stretch up or down to grasp the object required or desired. As an aside, the extended arm length is a peculiar familiar trait that I share with my four other siblings. My mother, the family knitter of woollen winter garments, for a time now distant in memory, needed to add on to every arm-length an extra one to two inches for each Caygill child.

Of significance were the more personal challenges. The digging deep in order to exercise the very necessary humility of person to acknowledge that I, a staunchly private and independent individual, needed assistance, support and care which was available on offer from friends, family, colleagues and members of the congregation I work alongside. The humility required became easier not only as the days went by, but as I exercised that essential will and shift of mind-set. My humanity is as a gift which comes to a uniqueness of fruition as I recognise and live accordingly out of an essential interdependence with those, I share humanity with. I am – because we are. Living and loving is as a gift of mutuality and interdependence. We exist not just for ourselves but for each other and as an integral part of creation itself.

Preparing for the weekly contemplative group I am part of which draws on the deep wisdom of Thomas Merton, I was drawn afresh to his words which so resonated with my own stumblings and learnings of the past weeks. “A fundamental joy pervading our lives should be God’s word to us that we are loved. God loves us because we exist, delights in our existence and always desires “more life” for us. [Merton writes] the first revelation of God to us was the event of our births. Our revelation of God’s word of love for us is in turn revealed to our neighbours as the epiphany of God’s love for them through our own words and deeds. To love the life we have been given and to reflect that love to our neighbours is a facet of our vocations to be joyous human beings. [Merton believed], I am God’s mission to myself and, through myself, to everyone else.”[1]

[1] From Bridges to Contemplative Living with Thomas Merton. Book 5. Traveling your Road to Joy. Edited by Jonathan Montaldo & Robert G. Toth. Indiana: Ave Maria Press, 2011, 20.