I’m sitting and looking over the perfect white billows of
comforter onto a completely white window. I am writing because I’m feeling
snarky today. Something inside me is starting to burst, or bloom, or explode;
pick your metaphor. I’m trying to find out what comes next in this life. I feel
a sense of irrepressible energy and yet at the same time some kind of gross
hindrance. I tell myself I am getting
better every day, though the augmentation is sometimes infinitesimally
minute. A lot of the problem is
physical. I feel trapped in a body that doesn’t work well. In a small way, I
know, I am beginning to understand a bit of what it’s like to live with
disability, or better put: I have begun to understand the true feeling of
limitation. I have felt the physical effects (literal inability to do things)
as well as the psychological distress of watching your body shrivel. The trauma
of enduring a life-threatening disease and an almost equally life-threatening
treatment, followed by a year of extreme muscle and bone density loss, GvHD and
transplant complications, lung damage, and at times a stagnant brain...it’s aged me. I feel
I have the body of an 80 year-old. This must be what aging feels like, but on
an accelerated scale. This is life, folks. And I’m especially talking to you,
Bekah. This is life. Bodies fail. I have hopes for where I will be a year from
now, but I don’t actually know what will happen. People keep saying that I’ll
get back. I'll get back to where I was before. No problem no question. But I don’t know that it will happen. I have to accept and love my life the
whole way through it; or else I may come to the end and find I was waiting for
something that didn’t exist. So I have decided to love even this obstinate and
foreign time of my life. I must practice Love. I must practice Love. I must
grasp today, and not wait for tomorrow or some body or life that I hope will
fall into my lap.
I am managing to type right now; my hand muscle spasms have
taken a short respite, perhaps to journey to other muscles that enjoy hosting a
good seizure: neck and throat, both legs, abdomen and lower back, pick your
favorite. It’s painful. My hands are always slightly swollen these days—in addition to the muscle spasms that make it impossible to do much of
anything—so even when they’re not spazzing out, holding or opening things is
difficult. I can’t help shovel snow because I have no muscles, and the bitties
I do have start cramping if I exert them or stretch them too much/at all. My
arms are essentially 2ft matchsticks. And considering my high risk for
osteoporosis, this couldn’t be more true.
But even with these new spastic developments (which we can’t
seem to find a cause or cure for), I’m still endeavoring to see the world anew.
#2015yearofhealth y’all. And I’m referring to whole person health, not just
healthy eating or weight. And I would like to take a quick moment to say that I
am actually trying to gain weight
this year. I’d love it if healthy eating wasn’t always about losing weight.
Pinterest can’t help me at all because everything #healthy is low-cal or
#bikinibodbound. Maybe people think I’m lucky? Doesn’t everyone just wish they
were toooooo skinny? Bah. I just want to be healthy. I want to gain muscle and
flexibility and happiness this year. I want to expand my circle of compassion, to
revolutionize my idea of Love over and over and over again. These are my goals.
For this year, for life.
Every day is a choice. And if I see it as a choice; or at
least tell myself it is a choice rather than a chore; perhaps after time I will
start to really believe it. I will practice loving the world. I will practice
loving myself. Days can go by so quickly without any real accomplishment. And
even accomplishments (I did laundry! I did dishes! I took all my pills at the
right time! I ate three meals!) can come with with the feeling of it still not
being enough. Who rejoices over managing to eat three meals? Who rejoices over laundry?
This girl. Today she does, at least. Today, there is enough Love. Today there
is enough energy and peace and compassion. Today I can surpass this fragile
stupid body. Today I can celebrate
this fragile stupid body. Today I will find strength in weakness. The Source is
full, its waters are ever-flowing. This is the endless Ocean. Today, we are
DANCER. I will raise my stupid matchsticks in the air and stomp my little 80-year-old feet,
metaphorically.
The Source is full,
its waters are ever-flowing;
Do not grieve,
drink your fill!
Don’t think it will ever run dry—
This is the endless Ocean!
So what the hell, I’ll put on the Killers and bomb the f@$%
out. I’ll read Rumi and weep my endless Ocean of dry tears. And then, I will
love the world. This is the endless Ocean. I will love myself. I will love
myself. I will love myself. I will love myself. I will love myself. I will love
myself. I will love myself. I will love myself. I will love myself. I will love
myself.
Peace and joy, kittens. Stay warm, stay happy. Stay Dancer.
Everything you see
has its roots
in the unseen world.
The forms may
change,
yet the essence
remains the same.
Every wondrous sight
will vanish,
every sweet word
will fade.
But do not be
disheartened,
The Source they come
from is eternal—
growing, branching
out,
giving new life and
new joy.
Why do you weep?—
That Source is
within you,
and this whole world
is springing up from
it.
The Source is full,
its waters are
ever-flowing;
Do not grieve,
drink your fill!
Don’t think it will
ever run dry—
This is the endless
Ocean!
From the moment you
came into this world,
a ladder was placed
in front of you
that you might
transcend it.
From earth, you
became plant,
from plant you
became animal.
Afterwards you
became a human being,
endowed with
knowledge, intellect and faith.
Behold the body,
born of dust—
how perfect it has
become!
Why should you fear
its end?
When were you ever
made less by dying?
When you pass beyond
this human form,
no doubt you will
become an angel
and soar through the
heavens!
But don’t stop
there.
Even heavenly bodies
grow old.
Pass again from the
heavenly realm
and plunge into the
ocean of Consciousness.
Let the drop of
water that is you
become a hundred
mighty seas.
But do not think
that the drop alone
becomes the Ocean—
the Ocean, too, becomes the drop!
-Rumi
