tiny miracles

It’s been a tough year.

Well, possibly more than a year at this point.

It’s been a struggle.  For a million and one reasons, but a challenge.  Everything I tried to do took triple the effort that I remembered it taking in the past.  And it all wiped me out ~ like, lights out at 8pm on a Saturday wiped out.  My head felt foggy most of the time ~ like all the sharpness that I’d once possessed looked like the nub of a well-used pencil.  Things I’d always taken care of seemed unimportant ~ as though laundry, or vacuuming no  longer mattered.

There didn’t seem to be solutions, answers ~ any sort of path.

And then ~ we tried the fourth medicine.  And I no longer felt like I was having mini-strokes, I didn’t have huge welts and bruises all over my arms and legs, and depression didn’t seem to be overwhelming my life anymore (all previous, debilitating side effects).

And then, after weeks of yoga ‘therapy’ I was suddenly able to do dancer’s pose again ~ my teacher had found a way to modify practice so i felt like I actually was practicing.  And I can stay up until 10pm on a weeknight and still get up at 6am for work.  And even though my legs are still numb and sometimes I can’t hold my right hand steady (among other things) I can take Lucy out at night without fear of falling down, and get out of bed without falling into the wall, and work a full day and remember  everything the way I used to.

It’s as though the fog is lifting, and I’m capable of doing things again, and capable of maintaining my life while still doing my job.  I might not ever run a half marathon, or be able to climb a rock wall (possibly something that used to be on my bucket list after Camp Henry in sixth grade) … but I know I can function.  And I can still practice yoga.  And I can still cook, and write and read and swim (again, among other things!).

I feel as though I’m surfacing again after a long time drowning.  There were a lot of band aids over the course of this journey, but nothing felt like the light at the end of the tunnel until now.

It’s nice to feel a little like myself again.  It’s like the ultimate sigh of relief.


As I was driving home today, the roads thick with traffic, my mind started to wander.  I’d begun my audio book of “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” for the second time (I haven’t found anything new on audible recently, which is a huge bummer) and I began to think about the magic of reading.

When I was younger, I was a total book-worm.  There was something so incredible about getting lost in a good book ~ a world somewhere else, that totally took you away.  I’ve had moments in adulthood when I’ve been completely overtaken by a book.  I’m not ashamed to admit that I loved the ‘Hunger Games’ trilogy and theDivergent’ trilogy.   I also was completely enamoured with Elizabeth Gilbert’s ‘The Signature of all Things.’  Stunningly beautiful.

We moved a lot when I was young, but I remember libraries.  My mum always took us to libraries and I would get completely wrapped up in the young adult section, piling up the titles I wanted to take home, only to have to weed through and pick a select few (which I would read in a matter of days).  Books were my salvation, but they were also my teacher. So many things could be learned by reading books, exploring faraway people and places. Igniting the imagination to infinite possibilities.

When life gets crazy, or stressful, I find such beautiful relief in my audio books.  I miss that I don’t take the time to read ~ that I haven’t taken the time in so long because life seemed to get in the way.  I’d like to get back to it, get back to myself.  I read a brief newspaper article today about MS, and remembered when the numbness in my feet first started.  Remembered thinking and wondering if I would ever feel them normally again.  The answer, sadly to this point, is no.  But so much has happened since that day and I’ve lost little bits of myself because of stress and work and the ebb and flow of life.

I’d like to get back to reading.  I guess that’s my point.