June, 2017
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memphis
Last weekend I logged onto my admin page for this blog, and I couldn’t for the life of me get the ‘new post’ page to load. I was frustrated. I had something to say.
So I typed it in a word document, determined to post it the next day.
But time has a way of slipping through even the most diligent of fingers, and my fingers, in regards to this blog, have not been very diligent of late.
I’ve re-read what I wrote a few times. But for some reason, am no longer compelled to share it in its original form. What I will share is the general idea of what the post was about. And -hopefully -make it better.
My new car.
John and I purchased a brand new, all-white, fiftieth anniversary Chevy Camaro last Friday. It’s a 335-horsepower V6 manual. It sits luxuriously in our driveway, exuding power and sexiness. I often look out the front window and down at her low profile roof, all slanted windows and curves. I wonder who the lucky driver of this magnificent beast is, and giggle knowing it’s me. It’s sort of hilarious.
But the car is more than that.
It’s a return, for me, to driving a manual car for the first time since being diagnosed with MS. When I test drove it, my palms were sweaty, I was convinced I couldn’t do it — would stall out, grind the gears, ride the clutch until the acrid smell of burning filled the air. But it wasn’t like that at all.
Driving stick is a little bit like riding a bike. Once you know how, you know how. And it comes back magically, as though all those years of driving automatic never existed. As though you’ve always known the feel of the road through your gears.
Maybe I drove it too fast. Took a corner badly (ps. can she handle or what?!?). But it was intoxicating. Even the nervousness of the visibility and the rumbling power under the hood could not dampen the pure exhilaration.
The past few months have been a roller coaster of life changes. Leaving my job. John’s surgery. His new job. Our changing routine and idea of normal. Sometimes I’ve felt a little lost, looking for a purpose, a direction, something resembling motivation.
It’s funny that driving a stick shift again has been so seminal. As though I’ve come back to myself. As though the battle I fight every day, with the green smoothies and the bike riding and the water drinking and the vitamin taking and the …. blah blah blah … has come to mean something tangible. I’ve taken little pieces of myself back since this disease took over. Slowly, painfully, almost imperceptibly.
Fact. I have MS.
Another fact. It sucks.
Little victories ~ a new recipe that rocks, walking without a cane … once again driving manual … they all matter. They all count. They are the things that keep me getting up, and blending spinach in a Vitamix, and sweating my face off in my garage on a stationary bike.
We named our new ride Memphis. For our wedding song. For our matching tattoos. For the ancient capital of Egypt and for the city of Rock N Roll.
And she is beautiful.
the watch
My husband bought me an Apple Watch for my birthday back in December. We had to order it, because they didn’t have the size/color I wanted, so I finally received it a few days before the new year. Apple products have some of the best packaging, and I remember distinctly watching its delivery status online (I had to be home to sign for it) and when it arrived, carrying it like precious jewels or paper-thin crystal up the stairs to my kitchen to unwrap it at the island. Every moment was breath-taking. It was so beautiful.
I was so insanely in love with it within minutes that I promptly told my husband (who had a watch he very much-loved) that he needed to get an Apple Watch immediately. And so, despite some grumbling, he did.
And we have both been addicted since this year began. I have missed only two days of completing my circles (Move, Exercise and Stand) ~ the first was a sync problem when I got a new phone (February 25th) and the second was this past Sunday, when I was certain that my fatigue was going to overrun my life. I am sad about both days (I am very competitive) but what is even more important is how much the watch has changed our lives.
Hubs, who was a college athlete but hated working out, has begun riding a stationary bike every day in our garage (we do this together since we have 2 bikes …. see my previous post my bike is a very, very, very nice bike). Sometimes we trail ride (although this is challenging on a number of fronts because of my absurd fatigue – thank you MS – and our inability make decisions in a timely fashion to avoid the heat). I have found – in the six months of having my watch – that I’ve made more progress than I made all last year while riding the bike, probably because now the watch motivates me. I can walk away from my phone when Lucy and I go for walks, because calls and texts (and email!) all pop up on my watch. Hurrah! This past Sunday I tried to leave my watch on the charger all day … but JUST.COULDN’T.DO.IT. So I settled for closing my Stand rings and trying not to feel too sad about my Exercise and Move (since I’d made the decision to give my body a rest).
It is one of my favorite things.
In the four and half years I’ve had MS, I’ve learned so many things about keeping my disease under control. It isn’t just about medicine, and it isn’t just about food and exercise. It’s about all of that, and having faith in the decisions you are making, and waking up every day ready to give it your all once again. The mornings are tough for me — my body usually hurts, and if I’m lucky I wasn’t up several times in the night to use the bathroom. But once I’m vertical, it’s about making the best choices I can. This watch has helped me do that, day after day, when I’m tired, when I’m sad, when I just don’t feel like it.
As John gears up to begin his new job next week by having drinks and dinner with some new co-workers, I’m at home, trying to find my direction. And as silly as it sounds, my direction has begun to begin with my Watch. Get up. Move around. Get sweaty. I’ve learned that those things are invaluable to feeling better, feeling focused and motivated.
So, this is just a little love note to my Apple Watch, and also to my husband, for getting it for me in the first place. He always seems to have an uncanny ability to get me things that fill my life up with happiness and joy.
staying true
I think, as we get older, we all start to feel infinitely more comfortable in our own skin. We find strength in our decisions, who we have chosen to be as people, our values, our morals, our likes and dislikes. It’s comforting.
It doesn’t mean that people don’t exist who try to shake our foundation, make us question the choices we’ve made. Those people exist. Maybe they are just completely convinced that there is no room in the world for an opinion that differs from their own, maybe they are utterly committed to their ‘rightness.’ Who knows. I have no problem saying that sometimes, other people’s choices don’t make any sense to me. But they don’t have to — it isn’t my life. I feel as though some people never get to that conclusion.
But what is so sweet, so justifying, is a moment in life when the things you’ve been quietly questioning are re-affirmed, and you know (once again) that you believed the things that were important to you, that you had faith in the things that rang true to your conscience.
Hubs and I spent last weekend in New York City. We had tickets to see ‘Hamilton’ and no other plans than to just enjoy being in NYC together for a little bit. We had drinks at Rockefeller Center, we had dinner with actor friends of mine from college. We ate awesome sushi at a hole in the wall restaurant right near the theatre district. We saw ‘Hamilton.’ It was magical. And it reminded me of parts of myself that I’d forgotten. It reminded me of the love I had for so long for theatre. That I still have. It reminded me that no matter how beaten down I’d gotten over the past seven years, what always pulled me through was the doggedness I had in regards to what I believed. Was I insecure? Oh yes. Did I over think pretty much everything? Absolutely. But was I always true to myself? Yes. I might not be proud of many things about myself — I might get frustrated, and beat myself down sometimes. But my family –my parents, my grandmother, my brother, my aunts and uncles — they helped me form a rock solid foundation of who I am. And I am so grateful for that. It certainly doesn’t mean I won’t worry about things in the future. Wonder if I’m making the right choices. But I know that I am true to myself, in the end. That’s how I sleep at night. That’s how I get through the tough times and the challenges.
I believe in honestly. I believe in loving people and treating them with dignity and respect. When I find that I have trouble doing those things, I try to figure out why. I believe in finding the positive. Finding the hope, finding the happiness. Through disease, surgeries, crisis and woe. As my favorite acting teacher said in one of my first college acting classes, Por Los Buenos. For the good. We are all motivated by what we believe is ‘the good.’ (Although I do think that some people are super pre-occupied with ‘who has it worse and let me tell you why/how’).
And one more thing. Time. Time is the great healer and revealer. With time, the truth comes. You just have to have faith, and believe.
D5 Creation