11 Jun Torn

I see that it overwhelms him. He’s such a tough guy and now there are tears in his eyes. He looks at me and says: ‘I find it so incredibly stupid of me. I even told myself: you can’t participate. You have to stay on the sidelines as a spectator. But when the match started and Lennaert called me that they needed a goalkeeper, I suddenly found myself on the field. I thought: as a goalkeeper I take no risks. And then came that attack where I made a dive to save the ball from the goal. My teammates were still admiringly calling out to me because I got it out. However, as I landed on the ground, I felt my shoulder. It was as if something tore. Because my body was warm I didn’t feel any pain and I was still foolish enough to continue.’ He supports his left arm with his right hand. ‘It’s so incredibly stupid of me, so dumb,’ he repeats.

In the heat of the game
The accident happened during the traditional football match in the middle of the zen retreat. Since we need our knees to be in good condition for meditation, I find it too risky to participate in this event. Fritz felt the same way, but in the heat of the game he had been tempted to substitute after all. He also hadn’t participated in the warming-up.

We look at each other. I see him twisting and turning in his consciousness. He wants to turn back time to erase the event. Fritz used to be a high-level volleyball player. As a result, both of his shoulders have weakened. A few years ago, a tendon was already torn in the other shoulder. He recognizes the feeling exactly.

I say to Fritz: ‘I know this will sound strange, but I advise you to accept what happened and that starts with forgiving yourself. Repeating how stupid it was doesn’t help you but rather hinders you. It adds an extra tension to the pain.’ Fritz listens to me in silence but it resonates with him.

Swallowed by a funnel-shaped whirlpool
A little later, Fritz can ride with someone to the hospital located down in the valley. When he returns, his arm is wrapped in a dark blue sturdy sling. ‘Tomorrow I’m going home,’ he says, ‘there’s no point in staying here.’ I know what a difficult decision this is for him. He could have participated in the entire summer retreat this time. His son would also join in a few days. It feels like all these beautiful future prospects are being sucked in and swallowed by a funnel-shaped whirlpool. ‘I can’t even properly participate in the meditation here,’ he says, ‘and the medical exams I need to do are much easier to schedule at home.’ ‘Last time it transformed me as well,’ he says, ‘I quit my job and became a chess coach. That ultimately was a very good step.’ We hug each other gently without touching the arm.

You’re not doing it on purpose, are you?
Being able to forgive yourself is an important skill in life. You’re not making mistakes on purpose, are you? You can at most let them come in well and memorize them because that is the function of both physical and mental pain, so that you can act differently next time. But do that without blame. Self-blame is like a sort of punishment that you think you have to give yourself, but it’s not good for anything. In practice, forgiving yourself boils down to observing the negative thoughts instead of maintaining and feeding them. You observe faithfully, again and again: recognizing the thought, briefly noting it, and letting it go.

*This post has been automatically translated from Dutch