In my younger years, I used my body to explore, to express my big emotions. Go big or go home.
I loved to dance, heard rythyms everywhere.
I’d walk for hours. Exploring new paths.
Revisiting familiar ones.
Stopping to sit, my back resting against a tree.
Listening to the sound of my breath, looking deeply at my thoughts and feelings.
This introspection has been a feature of my experience for as long as I can remember.
Would seem I contemplate as a way of being in this world.
Over the past decade, my physical health has declined.
The body that could dance for hours and walk for miles. Now lies in bed. Fatigue often too great, or pain too penetrating to engage life fully.
But I’m not one to take things lying down! (Pun fully intended).
With much gratitude I’ve learned to embrace a wheelchair, as the “Silver” to my “Lone Ranger”.
I’ve discovered the power of taking adventures in my mind. Exploring new areas of my inner world.
My connection with the outer world, with you.
And the point where that which separates us, disappears.
I do miss the freedoms an able body provided me. I’m by no means completely accepting of the present state of things. With every decline or flair, there’s a new loss to grieve.
Within this experience is a deep well of humility.
It gives rise to deepening patience and compassion.
As my body ebbs my spirit flows.
I’m more in the arena now, than muscle alone would ever allow.
