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Day 73
When John & I moved to Chester County nearly six years ago, we didn’t know anyone. Well, my parents, but that’s it. We had no friends down the street, we commuted to work and we lived in a little bubble of travel, our selves, Lucy and our house.
It’s funny how community builds when you aren’t even looking. Today, my yoga community and the broader community of people with autoimmune disorders rose up and illustrated to me —yet again — how important community can be. How important community is — full stop.
I’ve never lived in any one place for longer than six years. I hit that mark in the apartment — the first place John and I lived. And this July, I will surpass it when we hit the six year anniversary of moving into our first house. This house. Our home. In a place we chose because it just felt better whenever we were here. In a place where we have built community — with locals and business owners and outdoorsmen and yogis and other transplants. Where our community rises up and carries us when we need support.
When John and I chose each other we had very little else but ourselves to bring to the table. What we have we have earned together, we have built together. When I look around at my life, I feel blessed beyond measure in my partner, in our shared vision, our shared likes and values and hobbies and ways we see the world.
I feel blessed in the people who have become our support network — our friends and neighbors. To have built what we have built from nothing feels like a miracle. And I am so grateful for it.
Thank you Amy & Susanne. Thank you so very much.
Xox, g
Day 69
When I first lost feeling in my feet, it was December 23rd and I woke up in the spare bedroom of my in-laws. I thought maybe I slept badly, pinched a nerve. My feet felt floppy, as though they couldn’t hold shoes. As though I had pins & needles … that never ended.
Even when I finally got on a therapy that helped with my walking and my balance and my energy … my feet stayed stubbornly numb. I look at them and am thankful they are pretty feet. In my dark moments, I wish fervently to feel them again and hot tears sting my eyes. I smile at the tattoos that adorn my right foot — tattoos that I barely felt being inked. A tear slips down my cheek and catches in the upward crease of my mouth.
I try not to be angry at the things I’ve lost. I’ve gained as well, and mourning my losses won’t change their absence. I reminded myself of this as I struggled and wobbled and dragged my feet through a yoga practice today. Comparing today to five months ago is useless and honestly, both sad and pointless. Time marches on, my disease marches on and I can only be in my body of today.
It doesn’t change the deep despondence that exists in the dark corners of my soul. That is my truth, parts of the truth I carry behind my smile.
Xox, g
Day 60
Women’s History Month.
A five year anniversary.
The return to community.
It was a big day, today. I usually wonder all day what I’m going to write about and then —somehow— get divine inspiration right before bed (usually while meditating… go figure). Today, I have had so many thoughts in my head about what I want to say all day that I’m paralyzed in a different way — one of indecision.
**
A month dedicated to the history of women. A history woefully lacking in substantial texts, recognition and dignity. I was raised by a fierce, smart, strong woman who instilled in me a healthy dose of feminism and the drive for equality. I didn’t think there was far to go when I was helping collate newsletters in the 1980s as a child. Now, as a bonafide adult (usually), I have learned – painfully – how very far we still have to go. And how far apart women exist in the struggle for equality … white women and black women and brown women and trans women and poor women ….. The fight for equality looks different for all of us. And we should work harder to make it look the same. To make it no longer exist for everyone across the board.
**
Five years ago, recently returned from a trip to Italy during which I did infinitely more walking than I thought I could, I began my love affair with stationary bicycles. I’d heard (during a work seminar) about the theory of 66 days vs. 21 days to form a habit. I decided — perhaps somewhat flippantly — that I was going to ride our stationary Schwinn bike (currently serving as a glorified clothes hanger in our spare room) for sixty-six days and see where it led me. And here I am now, devoted (deeply) to my Peloton. Riding miles every day. Sixty-six days worked.
**
After five months away, I returned to yoga today. And as my forehead hit the mat in child’s pose to begin practice, I felt overwhelmed with emotion. For nearly three years I spent multiple mornings a week in that studio with women who have become my friends, my community. To be back, to be surrounded by these humans who share my love of Baptiste yoga, was stunningly powerful. And even though we all practiced six feet apart wearing masks and there was no cold, sweet-smelling towel to reward us at the end of class, it was still a holy experience to share those seventy-five minutes with people who have become my people.
Today was a good day. A powerful day. The beginning of the rest of 2021.
Xoxo, g
Day 48
”Try not to become a person of success, but rather become a person of value.”
~ Albert Einstein
Every winter/spring, I go through what I affectionately refer to as my self-help phase. Perhaps as a way to begin my year by very intentionally learning and growing. Pushing boundaries. Perhaps because as the old year comes to a close, I find myself wanting in certain areas. Perhaps because not only is a new calendar year beginning, but another year of my life begins each December. I’m not sure. What I am sure of is my desire each January to keep chipping away at myself, in hopes of revealing my inner David. (Pardon the Michelangelo reference, but it’s one of my favorites).
The above quote is another of my favorites because it reminds me that my actions and choices should not be guided by financial (or any other kind) of success, but rather by the pursuit of being the best, most well-rounded human that I can be. By creating, within my being, a vessel of value.
In that vein, I am working my way through Robert Wright’s Why Buddhism is True and it has – to this point – profoundly affected me and my worldview. To be fair, I began it a loooooong time ago and found my way back to it this January. Maybe I needed that time away to gain perspective. I’m not sure.
To help clarify, let me begin at my beginning.
Every night (nearly every night) and most mornings, I sit down on my bolster, next to my Buddha statue, and I meditate. At the beginning, I really didn’t know what I was doing. I’d wanted to begin meditating for a long time (every one said it was so great!) but didn’t really know how to start. It all felt uncomfortably disingenuous. Last January I began yoga teacher training, and meditation was a big component. And thus, my practice began.
Even during teacher training I wasn’t really sure what the heck was going on, and I was pretty resistant. Not purposefully, but it’s inherently within me to resist (I’m working on it). So it was really Covid and being stuck at home that brought me to the meditations on Peloton. Even then, I was skeptical.
Meditation is this thing that for me had a lot of baggage about what it should be and how it should feel. And I didn’t get it or feel it so I kind of dismissed it. Books and magazines and my yogi friends all espoused its transformative power but to me … it was just … overly burdened with expectations.
Even so, I dutifully kept at it, thinking that with repetition I might finally clue in to the big deal.
There was a moment late last summer when I said to John, as I padded back to our bedroom, that I could feel the difference between nights I meditated and nights I didn’t but I couldn’t articulate what it was … I could just feel it.
I think that’s the thing with meditation, and it’s why I’ve struggled for so long. I need to be able to define it, to give it words and form and shape … and meditation is essentially formless and shapeless.
That’s what Why Buddhism is True has given to me if nothing else (and it’s far from nothing else). It has validated my inability to adequately describe meditation, its ‘instructions’ or really anything about it. Other than to say I do it, it makes sense and I feel its benefits.
Which brings me back to Albert Einstein. I think meditation serves as a tool to help me be a better version of myself — to continue developing my character in order to become a person of value.
Xoxo, g
staying focused
Last night hubs took lead dinner preparing duties and made chicken parmesan with cauliflower rice. I may be the only person in the world to feel this way, but I vastly prefer cauliflower rice to regular rice. I am a huge, huge fan. And dinner was delicious.
I, however, failed to take any photos or note any cooking methods. Perhaps this challenge will catch me up earlier than I anticipated. But I do love having a meal at the end of the day that’s warm, and home-cooked and filling. I will make a better effort this evening to document!
This morning I ventured to yoga for the first time in nearly three weeks. My knee injury has been harder for me to deal with than I anticipated. To be fair, the last injury that really sidelined me was five years ago when I accidentally broke my foot on John & my honeymoon. That was a pretty tough one. But memories of the difficulties of being out of commission faded with time. And that was also in my first year of MS, so everything felt much more confusing and challenging. That broken foot took nearly four months to heal. That’s a long time for a hairline fracture.
Back in April when husby encouraged me to get back to yoga and I trepidatiously ventured out to a new studio, it was pretty hard. I think I sweat nearly a gallon and I smelled terrible and I was fairly certain that I was going to pass out or collapse after sixty minutes of heat, chaturangas & downward facing dogs. Today was a different kind of hard. Poses that were never difficult proved nearly impossible. My heightened awareness of both my knees made my movements slow and labored. I saw myself in the mirror and felt clunky and puffy (Can you balloon up after merely three weeks of inactivity? Yes, yes you can). But strangely, after my awkward triangle poses and extended side angles and my near inability to do a simple warrior one, I finished class feeling better than I did before I went in. Yoga just does that, I guess.
Getting injured hasn’t just been physically difficult for me. It has been mental torture. I’ve wallowed in the frustrations of lack of movement, fear of the increased MS-ness of my body, and slowness with which every task has had to be completed. When you favor one leg (either consciously or unconsciously) it throws your whole body out of whack so not only does my left knee hurt in uncomfortable ways, but now so does my right knee and both my hips from my strange, labored, limping walk. I’ve tried to focus on other things ~ writing, cooking, etc etc. But I get distracted by the disorder of the house and the need to clean (something I haven’t tried because of my lack of fluid movement). Yoga helped with all that mental clutter, too. Therapy has been good in so many ways. But not the calming, meditative way that yoga is helpful. The feeling of just being on your mat and everything else fading away. Being present. Being fully in that moment. (Sidenote, that sh*t is hard, sometimes. I feel like my mind never stops – it’s constantly whirring and buzzing with a million thoughts at once).
I want to make a conscious effort to stay positive and stay upbeat as I move through the recovery of my knee. I want to make sure I am not dipping into depression and putting to much emphasis on having MS. I think people who say “I might have MS but MS does not have me” are either the healthiest MS people ever or slightly in denial. I’m okay saying that sometimes, MS does have me. Sometimes it wins the power struggle and I have a really bad run of days. Sometimes, pathetically, I feel super duper sorry for myself. But the trick is to feel those feelings. Get mad, be sad, wallow. And then wake up the next day and move forward. Give MS its space. Respect its tantrum-throwing, infuriating ways. But don’t let it control you all the time.
Going to yoga today – if I’m completely honest – was terrifying. I was so afraid. Of how it would feel. Of what I would or wouldn’t be able to do. Of hurting myself again. Of everything you might think I would be nervous about and so much more. I was scared I wouldn’t be able to drive home after class. I was scared of everything.
But here’s the thing, here’s the trick. I did it anyway. And that’s what makes the difference.
change
My life has changed dramatically since leaving my job last January.
I mean, dramatically.
At first, I felt lost. As though I had no direction and even worse, didn’t even know how to find one. Then I felt resentful. At the circumstances under which I left my job. At my disease. At the world for doing me so dirty. And then came defiance. I will conquer. I will succeed. I will create and live and be unstoppable.
But MS nipped that one pretty quickly in the bud.
Who am I? What do I want to do with my life? What am I currently doing with my life? … I chewed on these questions for a long time. I felt like I wasn’t contributing to our household, that I was the weak link. That this invisible illness of mine was debilitating, but not debilitating *enough*.
But the real question that I kept coming back to was ~ who was I before and why was I that girl? Did I like that girl? Was I proud of her? Did she pursue dreams relentlessly and with passion? Um…. hmmm.
I spent a lot of time not knowing myself and not really having a clear direction (other than stay alive and pay the bills). I spent over twenty years in the hospitality/restaurant industry because I sort of landed there. And I did love it. And I was passionate about it. I was so proud of my last company and all it accomplished while I was there. I look at it now and it’s nearly unrecognizable — it just blew up. Which is fabulous. But I’m not sad that I’m no longer part of it. I wasn’t *that* passionate.
I went to college for musical theatre. And I absolutely adore musical theatre. In fact, I was medium okay at performing, too. But I wasn’t passionate enough to risk it all. To sleep on couches and starve myself and do everything you need to do to make it in the industry. I started waiting tables instead. (See above for where that lead).
So you can imagine that these past eighteen months have been interesting for me. Challenging, frustrating, desperate. Freeing.
I mean, seriously. What do I care about?
Last year was a blur. I quit and then John had surgery. Then he started a new job. And then September happened and September to December are always a blur of football and holidays. This year started well – we hosted our first Rabbie Burns supper and I was hired by Aflac to sell insurance. I got my license. I did my training. I f*cking hated it. I had some major issues with how business was done. I lasted a month. It wasn’t my finest moment in time.
And then the husband told me to go back to yoga.
He’d said it in the past but he was pretty adamant this time. My body was hurting. I was riding my bike every day but I was getting stiffer. The relief that I’d experienced before this for all the joyous physical MS symptoms was fading. I was mentally trapped. And then Dr. Markowitz suggested in April that I needed to figure out my anxiety because my MS wasn’t being triggered by anything physical. Physically, he said, I was doing really well.
Well, isn’t that a b*tch.
Timing is a crazy thing. I received an email blast from a new yoga studio offering a new student special – $21 for 21 days. I called my friend (recently on short term disability for a new MS drug therapy) and we began our 21 days. She didn’t end up staying at the studio after those first few weeks. But I did. I had found something that was missing. I still don’t know if I can put my finger on what it is. But I found it. And it led to some amazing things.
First, it led me to the chiropractor. I did something to my left shoulder (always a painful nuisance … thank you high school swim team). I arrived at my chiro slightly trepidatious but over my first three months fell madly in love with their philosophies, their clean living examples (homemade bug spray! homemade sunscreen! detox diets!)and their long term goal of helping me be the healthiest version of myself I can be.
I discovered essential oils. With a healthy dose of skepticism I ordered a diffuser and all kinds of oils I didn’t even understand. I didn’t even know how to use them for the first few weeks. I just occasionally googled something and then went about my day. And then, all of sudden, things started to make sense.
I also fully committed to using more natural products. I mean, your skin is your largest organ. It makes sense that the things you put on it affect your body as a whole. But I’m a skincare snob. I mean, a big one. Finding new products was not something I undertook lightly.
But Instagram came to my rescue (as it so often does … sort of, haha!). I found Real Simple Soaps out of Hilton Head Island South Carolina and I fell so ridiculously in love with her products that I even got my mother on the natural products train. RSS makes products using goat milk, kefir and probiotics with all natural ingredients. And the stuff works better than anything I’ve ever used. This amazing discovery led me to try Kopari deodorant (all natural coconut). Once the door to vegan, non-GMO, cruelty-free, natural products was open, I not only discovered some amazing things (all Kopari products that I’ve tried are amazing and Thrive Causmetics are THE SH*T) but I felt really, really happy.
I also took Dr. M’s advice and went to therapy. That has been super interesting. Always rewarding, sometimes painful. Usually thought-provoking.
I think that what I’ve learned more clearly than anything I expected to learn was the empowering and positive force of self care. It sounds super (I mean, super duper) pretentious, but it isn’t. I believe in it passionately. I believe in getting sweaty every day and the cleansing power of physically moving your body. I believe in eating healthy, whole foods (but still uber delicious and fun and inventive and non-restrictive). I believe in drinking a ton of water. I mean, a ton. (I drink about 96 ounces a day. I know. It’s a lot). I believe in prioritizing sleep in order to more fully enjoy your awake hours.
I have found that taking care of myself is so much more than getting my Tysabri infusion every twenty-eight days. And in turn, it helps keep my MS under control. It’s insanely powerful.
So I might not have a clear direction yet. But I’m starting to get a good sense of what I believe in, what I’m passionate about and how I want to spend my time. I’m learning to love and accept myself, flaws and all. I’m learning to forgive myself and my disease for bad days.
I’m also attempting to learn how to have curly hair. It’ll be an adventure.
self care?
The past few months have been a whirlwind. Of what, I’m not sure. But it feels like every day the minutes slip away and I’m constantly fighting to be more efficient, to use time wisely, to check all the boxes of ‘things to do’ … and yet, I still manage to feel constantly behind.
A few weeks ago on my Instagram feed (the MS one ~ ilooknormal) I posted about self care. That I hadn’t meant for 2018 to be shaped by it, but somehow, that’s what has happened. For a few weeks I’ve been going to the chiropractor three times a week. It is actually crazy how much that changes your life. And for two months I’ve also been hoofing it to yoga multiple times a week. Plus riding the bike. Plus switching to a Keto diet (um, yeah, I’m not super good at it, but it definitely has its benefits).
Let’s rewind here a minute.
I am not working. So it makes it easier for me to prioritize yoga and chiropractic care and sleep and cooking every day , etc., etc., etc. But after all these weeks of ‘taking care of myself’ I feel a little lost. I mean, I know that the things I am doing are good things. My body does feel better. But, if I had a job, or any other obligation whatsoever, how could I possibly fit all this stuff in?
Sometimes I wonder if it’s the fatigue. If ‘normal’ people just have more hours in the day because their bodies require less sleep. Or, even if they do require as much sleep as I do, they just skip it and manage to be okay. That is not the case for me. Two nights ago I slept for about six and half or seven hours and spent the following day feeling like I was going to die. Eight hours isn’t negotiable for me. It is a requirement. Nine is better. Otherwise all the carefully placed cards in this little house of mine crumble to the ground in an instant.
So.
How do I prioritize this ‘self care’ (most of which is physical) and ALSO manage not to lose my mind?
This is an interesting conundrum.
For the first time in more than a decade, I went to a therapist. This was prompted by my neurologist who pondered during my last appointment if the troubles I was facing in my MS journey were not, as it happened, brought on physically but rather, mentally.
That’s a cold bucket of water to the head if there ever was one. I’d been so focused on the physical side of my disease that I’d completely forgotten that the insidious monster doesn’t discriminate when it comes to triggers. And how (this I asked out loud) could the issue be mental when I’d left my job (y’know, the one with all the stress and anxiety and b.s.) nearly fifteen months earlier?
Mmmmmm.
So, self care is about a little bit more than a chiropractor and yoga and a Keto diet.
To me, right now, it’s about finding an anchor. And figuring out the direction of the wind. I feel physically better since I’ve been doing all of ‘the stuff’ but I also feel adrift and confused and lost. I’m not sure what I’m doing and at 38, retirement doesn’t feel right. So how can I leverage all this stuff and do something I love?
Yeah, I haven’t figured that out yet.
I love writing, but I never seem to find the time. I love cooking, but at the end of the day (when most of the cooking is done in our house) all I want to do is curl up on the couch and be quiet and still. I love traveling and restaurants and using my brain. But what with all the hot yoga and bike riding and chiro appointments I am too tired to even contemplate doing anything else. And if I went back to work full time, I’d give up everything that I have found to help control the disease. So, that’s a little like my own private Sophie’s Choice.
Anyway. My goal is to get back to this blog more regularly. Like Stephen King wrote in his amazing book “On Writing,” you really need to do it every day. Keep the muscles fresh. Keep honing the skill. Maybe, while I’m doing all this, something will clarify and I’ll find my way. Until then, I’m on my self care journey & I’m hoping that it keeps getting the job done.
usefulness
“The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you have lived, and lived well.”
– Ralph Waldo Emerson
Today I returned to yoga after missing the past two weeks for holidays. After practice — which was surprisingly fulfilling despite how stiff and weak I felt going in – my teacher read the above quote. At first I was taken aback by the idea that life’s purpose was not happiness, but rather usefulness. I’d never heard the quote before and thought how much about Emerson I did not know.
But once the quote was completed, I was struck by the power of its message. And then I pondered on the idea that if one found a great purpose in life, and pursued that purpose with honor, integrity and passion — an immediate by-product of that must inevitably be happiness. So wouldn’t it of course be more fulfilling to all of us to have reason and purpose first and just have faith and trust that pursuing that purpose would not only “make some difference that you have lived” but bring happiness and the contentment that you have “lived well.”
thanksgiving
Over a month ago, I spent some time at a great retreat in Austin Texas. Along with teaching me that (basically) I don’t eat the way I should at all, the retreat also focused on mental and spiritual health. And I found those sessions and that information so incredibly enriching.
To save this blog from being REALLY long, let me just say that OHI really focused on the power of gratitude. And having just completed a seven day gratitude ‘challenge’ on Facebook prior to arriving, I was completely on that bandwagon. Thinking about the things we are grateful for on a daily basis — and articulating those things –is incredibly uplifting and powerful.
So in honor of the things I enumerated on Facebook back in September — here’s a re-posting. Wishing everyone a beautiful Thanksgiving surrounded by those you love.
Sept 20, 2014
Nominated by my wonderful friend Angie — — thank you for thinking of me! Three things I am grateful for today (and then the following six!)
1 — Most obviously I am grateful for my husband. He got more than he bargained for when he married me but his is my strength, my laughter and my best friend.
2 — I am grateful for my Lucy. To have an animal look at you with the love that fills her big brown eyes — takes your breath away. It is truly a gift….
3- I am grateful for my family. The last two years of MS and cancer (not both me!) have shown the true strength and integrity of my parents, my wonderful second mother (my mum’s twin) and my insanely amazing brother.
When you’ve had the journey I’ve had recently — you definitely see with crystal clarity the things for which you are grateful. Thanks for the nom Ange!
September 21, 2014
1 — I am grateful for ceiling fans. They just make everything better — especially sleep!
2 — I am grateful for football. I just love it, and I’m not going to use this as a place for anything other than positive stuff right now. (Editorial note: Ray Rice and Adrian Peterson were dominating NFL news at the time). I have been so lucky to have so many great memories throughout my life that have to do with football — PSU, Steelers, PR Rams & Fedko, Womissing Saturday day games & away games on Friday nights — the Flemington Falcons — football has always been a big part of my life. And Sunday is the best day for a shout out.
3– I am grateful for Starbucks. And on that subject, I am grateful for Ted — for introducing me to the soy chai latte in college — it has been my drink for over 10 years & I love it. I am grateful to all my baristas who know me, my hubs, my drinks and my football teams. They always brighten my day. I love Starbucks.
September 22, 2014
Day Tre —
I am grateful for —
1 — All the failed relationships and friendships I have had to this point in my life. Those failures taught me about myself, my strengths and weaknesses and the kinds of people I know to be true friends and in the case of my husband, my partner.
2 — On that subject, here’s to ALL the mistakes I have learned from throughout the years — as my dad once said, if there was hard way in which to learn something, I found it. Maybe I just liked knowing how everything worked from the inside out — needless to say, those mistakes have helped me figure myself out, and I’m grateful for that.
3 — I am grateful for Aman and Les, the guys who work the floor I park on in my garage. They make every day better with their smiles, the knowledge that my car is safe and protected and the friendly way in which they handle even the most stressful of parking garage situations. Five years in, and i couldn’t imagine parking anywhere else. No matter how bad my day might have been — they are there, smiling, asking about Lucy & John and just generally being good humans.
September 23, 2014
Fourth Day of Gratefulness — the Work Edition
1 — I am grateful for my boss. He took a chance on me and believed in me and supported me & what I was doing when other people might have been telling him that it was crazy to give me the responsibility he gave me. And when my whole world changed he gave me flexibility to pursue my health, the time to do it, and many other resources on which a price can never be put.
2 — I am grateful for my co-workers, and especially my two ‘partners.’ It is a great feeling to get to work in an industry you love, with people who are fun to be around — honest, decent people who care as much as you do about the success of what is being done. People you survived the trenches with — who have your back and you have theirs.
3 — I am grateful for my Aunt & Uncle — it was through them I learned about the art of hospitality, the love of food and the great industry that I have found a home in. Sitting beside an indoor pool at one of my uncle’s hotels in the UK at the tender age of 8 or 9, he told me with a laugh that I had rich taste (as I sat noshing on delectably buttery smoked salmon & caviar) and should marry a rich man. Well, Uncle T, I did you one better. I’m doin’ it myself — and I learned my fundamentals from you.
September 24, 2014
Cinco!
I am grateful —
1 — for the small moments in life — being half awake in the grayness of the morning and hearing my puppy’s snuffles and cuddling up with my hubs … the cool autumn breeze blowing leaves in the late afternoon sunlight … the woman in the elevator who likes my dress … the crackling of a good fire pit … things that create the depth of life.
2 — for my time in Wyomissing. We moved so much throughout my youth, that I went to two elementary schools, two middle schools and two high schools. But just being at Wyo for 2 years has impacted my life in such a positive way, even sixteen years later. I’m grateful so much for that. Makes me feel like I did actually come from somewhere.
3 — for contact lenses. I can’t imagine what it must have feel like for people with vision like mine prior to glasses, but contacts were a huge improvement for me. Maybe lasik one day ….
September 25, 2014
Grateful Day #6
1 — I am grateful for diversity. Yeah, sometimes people who are vastly different from ourselves can prove to be infuriating. But minus the idiots from Philly (editorial note: this was written at the time when some real geniuses thought it would be fun to beat up a gay couple … basically in center city) and others who commit just unspeakable crimes — doesn’t being different add to the spice of life? Doesn’t it sometimes help us see things from an entirely new viewpoint? I like to think so.
2 — I am grateful for my faith. It’s mine, and it’s personal and when things feel dark and when things feel light, I always feel as though there is a reassuring hand on my shoulder keeping me steady.
3 — I am sincerely grateful for sleep. I know it’s a necessity of life — but I relish it. I love slipping into cool clean sheets and snuggling under soft blankets, close to the ones I love. It’s a haven of peacefulness that comes every night, and I am supremely grateful for that.
September 26, 2014
I want to preface this by saying thank you to Angie again, because sometimes, the things we are grateful for become the things we take for granted. And this exercise has reminded me that even in the tough times, life is a phenomenal adventure filled to the brim with wonder.
On this final day of FB status updates, I am grateful for …
1 — Yoga. It has helped me climb from a place of physical desperation to a place of acceptance. Maybe I’ll never teach yoga, or be anything close to physically proficient. But it has reminded me, through this new part of my journey, that even though some things have been taken away — and I often mourn those things more than I should — some things have not.
2 — Humility and self-awareness. I am a perfectly imperfect human being. I’ve made a load of mistakes, I’ve inadvertently (and not-so-inadvertently) hurt people. But I’d also like to believe I’ve lifted some people up, passed along the gifts that have been given to me throughout my life. I’ve learned that being humble is a vastly preferable alternative to being bombastically egocentric. Both personally, and in those I spend my time with.
3 — Passion. I spent the early years of my life pursing a passion, and I may not have found a career in it, but nothing will ever lift up my soul quite the way belting out a good song does. Transcendent, if I’m being passionate about it.
returning
This morning, I returned to the mat for the first time in months.
It felt amazing. And scary.
Things have changed so much in a year. I’ve had to learn a lot about living with the limitations that now exist for me. And the mental stuff that goes along with it.
I sometimes think that people think they understand what I deal with on a daily basis. And I appreciate the love and support. I do. But the truth is, no one, not even another person with MS, can totally understand my daily struggles. As I talked through some things with my yoga instructor (my favorite, of past blog posts) I laughed. A lot.
It sounds ridiculous to say some of the things I say when it comes to my symptoms. It’s just … well, funny. And what I also realized was that so many of these quirky things have become normal to me. It’s just how things are.
Which I guess is progress. Even though it doesn’t feel that way when things that used to come easily (oh, I don’t know, walking for example) are now a challenge. Something I’m acutely aware of throughout the day. Things that change how I make decisions. How many blocks is it, how many things do I have to carry … how much time do I have/need?
What was wonderful about today’s return to yoga was feeling as though I was making a decision to nurture myself a little. Work has been brutal and looks to remain brutal for the foreseeable future. Which means I have to figure out a way to keep work from crippling me (literally ~ because stress is what makes me worse). Choosing yoga and taking a short day is a step (albeit tiny) in the right direction.
Baby steps, right?
D5 Creation