“Sometimes you prepare for change by packing a bag. Other times, you prepare by unpacking your soul.”
Looking at My Knees One Last Time
Today, I found myself looking down at my knees — really seeing them.
They’re still mine, still moving, still holding me up. Part of me wants to take a picture, to capture them before the scar, before the rebuild.
It’s strange to think that by tomorrow, these knees will no longer be the same. For decades they’ve carried me across my land, through gardens, trails, and long days of work. They’ve bent to plant seeds, knelt in prayer, climbed, stumbled, and stood again. They’ve done their job — now it’s time for me to do mine: to let them be rebuilt so I can rebuild myself.
I’ve prepared the first-floor bedroom, knowing there are still twelve steps from the garage to the living space — twelve small reminders that even preparation can’t remove every challenge.
And still, I feel as ready as anyone can be for something like this.
The Emotional Landscape of Stillness
If I’m honest, I’m anticipating a strange mix of emotions — boredom, helplessness, maybe even frustration.
I’m used to movement: to working the land, fixing things, helping others move their lives forward.
But I also know that stillness has something to teach me.
The blog has already become my trail when I can’t hike — the way I move when my body can’t.
As an introvert, writing is how I process, how I metabolize fear, hope, and gratitude into meaning.
So if I can’t walk far, I’ll write deep.
When movement slows, I’ll keep walking the words.
Rehabilitation Mindset – Building from the Ground Up
I’ve thought a lot about what the first few weeks will look like. I don’t want to just recover — I want to rebuild deliberately, like tending a garden that’s been fallow for a season.
Week One
Daily exercises. Walk every hour. Keep swelling down.
Every small act will be a victory.
Week Two
Begin walking with confidence, even with support.
Start dreaming again — a bucket list with Theresa: vacations, hikes, retirement adventures, ways to live larger than the routine of life.
Week Four
Driving again. Walking with just a cane. Transitioning from prescribed pain meds to over-the-counter.
Focus on nutrition, energy, and mental clarity.
By then, I hope to be rebuilding not just my knees, but my coaching work — shaping Discovering Significance Coaching from a place of renewal.
Managing Complications – Presence as Plan A
It’s hard to have a Plan B when I don’t even know what Plan A will feel like.
So my plan is presence.
Just as I ask my clients to write down the three best things about each day, I’ll do the same — beginning the day of surgery.
That practice will anchor me in the now.
If challenges arise — pain, setbacks, fatigue — I’ll ask questions, lean on the physical therapists, and trust the process.
Plan A is to follow the plan. Push when I need to. Rest when I need to. Keep moving forward.
There is no giving up.
Because the destination isn’t just walking again — it’s summiting the peaks of my life:
health, purpose, adventure, love.
It’s standing on the top of the peaks of life beside Theresa, feeling free and fully alive.
Support Systems – Learning to Receive
This journey reminds me that support isn’t about having people around; it’s about allowing them in.
My sister Mary is coming up from Massachusetts that first weekend. I don’t even know yet what I’ll need — but maybe that’s the point. I don’t need to know; I just need to allow.
My son Christopher has been my steady companion — not just practically, but emotionally. He listens, asks real questions, reads every post, and walks his own journey of transformation. There’s a quiet strength in that kind of connection — two generations learning how to rebuild, one day at a time.
And the broader community — friends, readers, well-wishers — remind me that I’m not walking alone.
This blog has become a campfire of sorts, a gathering place for those who believe in growth, recovery, and the long road of becoming.
Setting Expectations – The Trail Ahead
If recovery is my winter, then spring will come — and I want to be ready for it.
- By April: weigh under 200 lbs (37 to go)
- By May: the garden ready for planting — a mirror of the inner work
- By Summer: take a hike into the mountains
- By Fall: summit a peak over 3,000 feet
- By Year’s End:
- A1C in normal range
- Fit into 36-inch pants
- Feel free, laugh often, share joy
- Blog with 100 + subscribers — not for numbers, but for connection
- Discovering Significance Coaching fully structured and ready to serve
These aren’t just goals; they’re promises — to my future self, to my family, to the man who chose courage over comfort.
Closing Reflection
Tomorrow, my knees will be replaced. But in truth, what’s being rebuilt is my entire foundation — body, mindset, and purpose.
This moment — the stillness before the incision, before the first painful step — is sacred.
It’s the pause between planting and growth, between hope and realization.
So tonight, I’ll look once more at my knees, whisper thank you for what they’ve carried, and trust that what’s coming will carry me farther still.
“When I can’t move my body, I’ll move my heart.
When I can’t walk the trail, I’ll walk the words.”
*Here’s to the next step, even when the path ahead is uncertain.
Here’s to new knees and new trails.*
