Choosing to Dance

You must meet the outer world with the inner world or existence will crush you.

-Mark Nepo

I met up with my friends, Charlie and Andy, for our weekly bike ride at Lake Crabtree, a county park bordering Raleigh, North Carolina. Our single-track mountain biking excursions involved leaning into curves, riding over roots and obstacles, and jumping piles of logs.

We approached a trail, one with an expansive view of Lake Crabtree surrounded by her forested shoreline. Tall office buildings poked above the treetops. We breathed in the beauty of the mild autumn day; a palette of shades of green sprinkled with maple tree leaves bursting into their seasonal glory of orange and red. Sunlight shimmered on the water and reflected a scattering of billowy clouds against a Carolina blue sky. Nature drew us into the woods — the fresh fragrance of the pines, the sunlight dappling the trees and the dead leaves crackling like fire beneath our tires. The forest came alive.

The bike trails spanned miles of roughly cleared paths worn smooth by riders over the years. At odd intervals, bulging roots had pushed through the earth and forced us to focus. We rode into and out of gullies, up and over piles of logs, and across a twenty-foot-long narrow wooden plank system. These planks stood about twelve inches off the ground and were no wider than a cereal box. The challenge was to stay steady the entire length of the planks. When we lost our balance, we would drop to the ground; after that we could continue to ride the path or go back and try again.

We reached a familiar teeter-totter, one we had mastered many times, riding up one side and down the other. We stopped and contemplated a much bigger and heavier teeter-totter that was new to the trail. I wanted to try it. The challenge excited me. Charlie and Andy stopped to watch me.

In mountain biking, speed is your friend. I pressed forward.

My front tire made contact with the teeter-totter and climbed to the top. But, my bike never came down the other side. It stood upright at the top of the teeter totter for a few seconds, without me; I had gone flying over my handle bars. Then the bike fell to the ground. I remember sailing through the air. A flood of thoughts flew through me. I was barreling toward the earth; I hit head-first.

I tried to move my arms, my legs, my body — nothing moved. I waited for the pain — there was no pain. I was just lying there. Charlie had come to my side; his eyes opened wide in shock. I wanted to talk — I really did, but no sound would come out. I mouthed 911 three times.

Then ... I stopped breathing — the imminent death sentence.

I had no movement, no voice, and no breath.

I had taken a fall. Taking falls are part of mountain biking but before I always got back up, bruised, cut, a little bloody, but never seriously injured. This time, this day, November 3, 2005, I had no breath and was paralyzed from head to toe.

I hung between life and death; my instincts propelled me to my inner power. I had been practicing spiritual and holistic healing principles for over six years. I tapped into the healing and manifesting potential of my true Being. I could not talk. I could not move. I could not breathe. Yet, I had everything I needed. I had my faith and Oneness with the creative force of the universe — God, and I still had access to my mind, my thoughts.

Instinctively, the mantra I daily recited when I needed to call back my power rushed forth. Still on the ground, motionless, breathless, I willed my body, emphatically. "I refuse to accept this limitation; God is my Source!"

Boom! What felt like a huge lightning bolt coursed through me. My beliefs — my thoughts — continued to spill from my mind to every cell in my body.

"I refuse to accept this limitation; God is my Source!"

Another bolt followed instantly. My left arm flopped at my side.

Moments later I regained my breath! My lifeless form had accepted the dance of my mind, body, and spirit.

The ambulance arrived in seventeen minutes from getting the call and took me to Duke University Medical Center. I was in a large examination room, more like a private room than a curtained area. There was a flurry of activity, much of which I do not remember. An ER doctor told me that my full paralysis was the result of my C1 and C2 neck vertebrae fractures and a profound spinal cord injury. I found out my C2 vertebra broke into two separate pieces.

The emergency room filled with friends and family. I said, "This is temporary. See me dancing."

My doctor, Robert E. Isaacs, director of spine surgery at Duke Medical Center, told me that most people with the severe spinal cord injury I had don't even make it to the emergency room. They die at the scene because they stop breathing. He said the surviving few who don't stop breathing were left quadriplegic. "People like you don't exist," he said.

However, I do exist.

He may have had more questions than answers to why I had lived. And, though he didn't seem to resonate with my mind power and faith, he did respect my beliefs.

My first and only surgery took place late that night. Dr. Isaacs told me right before the surgery, "Reconnecting your C2 is my responsibility, using your mind to your full advantage is yours."

Because my C2 broke in half my head was not connected to my body by bone. In surgery, Dr. Isaacs entered through the front of my neck and reconnected my vertebra to the spinal column with a two-inch plus screw. He verified the position of the screw every quarter turn with x-rays. The surgery was a success. However, I was still left a quadriplegic, a condition that I, in stark contrast to Western medical thinking, vehemently considered temporary.

I continued to use the teachings and Truths I had learned along my spiritual journey and shared as a holistic life coach and healing facilitator to influence my outcome. Our bodies do not know the difference between what is and what we affirm and expect. The nervous system creates a pathway with each thought — whether the thought is real, remembered or made up. That is why I ignored what was so obvious and gave little attention to my...