Through this series of blogs, I explore the process I went through before leaving the legal profession as an attorney and jumping on a plane to Europe for an adventure that led me deep into my own subconscious.
Two months after completing the 100-mile bike ride, I loaded my bike in the back of the car to drive home for Thanksgiving. It was an unusually warm November. After feasting with my family, the sun beckoned me outdoors. It was time for a ride.
Unfamiliar with the roads, I looked at the map to locate a 15-mile loop. A friend decided to join me for the adventure. She was slower than I was, especially on the hills. When a long hill appeared before us, she didn’t mind if I powered up before her. The incline was gradual, but steep.
Upon reaching the top, I looked behind to gauge her distance. Quickly, I turned into an abandoned parking lot. The sun blinded my eyes. Squinting, I began to slow down when, all of a sudden, I saw a metal chain held up by a wooden post just in front of me.
It was too late. There was no time to stop. Instinctively, my body turned toward the left to avoid a direct impact. The metal chain ripped into the right side of my chin, just under my lips.
As my bike went crashing to the pavement below, my legs hit the wooden post. I landed, dazed, on my left side. Just after I unwound myself from the bike and stood up, my friend Annie crested the hill. She came over and began to speak, until her gaze fell on my face.
“You’re bleeding, what happened?”
My right hand was covering the wound on my chin. “Let me see,” she urged.
Immediately, her eyes opened wide in horror. Without a second to waste, she sat down to take off her sock and handed it to me.
“You don’t want to look at yourself right now. Just keep it covered.”
Annie attempted to get me to sit down, but I was sure that I would pass out if I did. She called my mom, who asked my stepdad to pick us up with his truck since she was further away. We were only a couple of miles from their house. As we waited, I paced back and forth. “Why is this happening?” I questioned out loud. Annie simply stared at me in response.
My stepdad arrived and loaded our bikes into the back of his truck before zooming off to the nearby hospital. They checked me in immediately. Before I knew it, I was getting a cat scan. Just an hour or two later, they rolled me into the surgical room. By that time, my mom and sister were there for support.
The surgeon sat on a stool immediately to my right. As my mom held my left hand, my sister sat to her left. Two nurses stood by to assist. A white sheet was draped over my entire body, including most of my face. Luckily, numbing medication prevented me from feeling much of what took place.
My mom knew how much I had been meditating, so she encouraged me to go into that space. During the surgery, the fluorescent light just above shone through the sheet into my eyes, even though they were closed. Her poor hand was squeezed so hard, I don’t know how she handled it.
The deeper I went within, the more peaceful I felt. It was as if I were watching the entire thing take place. The nurse couldn’t believe how low my blood pressure was throughout the procedure.
After 25 stitches, the surgeon finally announced that his work was complete. There would be months of healing work to do, however. It took almost a week before I could move my jaw again. The court cases I had scheduled were postponed while I stayed at my mom’s house to recover. She made me smoothies and juices until I could chew soft food.
Two days after the surgery, it was time to remove the bandage. I’d barely stood up until then. I shuffled my way into the half-bath next to the kitchen. It was closest to the recliner I’d been sleeping on to keep my head elevated.
As I unwrapped the bandage, I took in the reflection staring back at me. I didn’t recognize her. She was deformed. Her face was swollen, and the right cheek reached out to the side. It practically made me stumble backwards in shock.
Then my eyes caught sight of themselves. I peered deeply into them. They were the same. There was absolutely nothing different about the soul underneath my skin. She – it – had not been affected. The realization hit me with a force in the chest.
“I am not my body.”
I existed outside the realm of form. My form encompassed me, but it was not me. It was not who I was.
It became clear that my consciousness has chosen to merge with my form. As such, it shapes and interacts with my body to deliver messages, sensations, and feelings directly to me. Yet, I am in no way defined by or limited to my body.
The immensity of the soul that stared back at me through the mirror was startling. She was the invincible part. She was the one who could do anything. She was stronger and more powerful than I could possibly imagine.
Stay tuned for the healing journey that took place following the bicycle accident. If you would like it sent directly to your inbox, sign up for emails and receive a free video on the Three Fundamentals of Sovereignty. In the meantime, join me on Facebook Live every other Wednesday at 3 p.m. for a talk on an aspect of sovereignty. The next one is today, August 5 at www.facebook.com/thepathtosovereignty. Sending love your way!
© Jessica Falcon 2020.