The end of the countdown has begun. I'm 2-1/2 weeks away from my next epidural.
These are usually my worst weeks. I am beginning to feel the worsening, which is disappointing.
However, comparatively speaking thus far, I am still much improved from this time last year, and even since this time last round.
Yesterday as I sat in a lounge chair sky-watching, clouds moving along their shape-shifting journey, I wondered, Where are the dead people? Something I wonder about from time-to-time. Is there life beyond this one?
I don't have a definitive answer. No one does. We all have beliefs and hopes about what lies beyond. Some have near-death experiences or experiences with those already deceased. But there are still no hard facts; at least that have convinced me.
Yesterday I turned 57 years old. It was a good birthday.
I spent most of my birthday with one of my pet-client dogs who stays in our home regularly. He went blind in the past few months. The blindness isn't due to age, but rather, a disease for which there is no cure. So he and I have been learning together.
Earlier this week, as he sat beside me in the passenger seat strapped in with his doggie-seatbelt and I in the driver's seat strapped in with my human-seatbelt and singing out loud along with a song that has inspired me the past few years as I've learned to accept but not-be-defeated-by my own disability, I sang for my dog-friend too. I included his name along with mine in whatever-song-it-was. I then told him with a smile and a tear, "We're disabled comrades....abled-differently comrades...That's us!"
We then proceeded to Pilot Mountain for a short hike. Beneath his feet, he got to feel the trail, and even some roots, and walk on flat rocks.
It was a beautiful, breezy day. He took in as many scents as possible. At one overlook, he stood with his face to the sun and a gentle mountain breeze. He seemed in total bliss.
I certainly was.
More good memories for the bank....
April 28, 2016
April 20, 2016
Breathe...
In the past few years, I've grown more and more enamored with nature and the earth. It's a different feeling than I have toward the heavens, meaning beyond the sky in outer space. Similar would hold true for the oceans.
I will most likely never scuba dive. Or if I do, diving would not be an ongoing, physical, tangible relationship. I'm not a big water-person.
I doubt I'll ever take a civilian trip to outer space, unless that becomes common before I die. But like diving, there would be no ongoing, physical, tangible relationship. Like with water, I'm not big into flying. Though I could be, if I had the funds.
But the earth. The earth. We are together every day. Without her, I couldn't exist. (I couldn't exist without the oceans or space either.)
It's not that I am not in awe of the oceans and heavens. I love them too. But I don't have the love affair with them that I have with the earth, earth being the dirt and all the life it creates and provides. We are together daily. There are times she cradles me, and I am soothed.
Yesterday...as I sat in the shade of a tree on small, grassy hill keeping an eye on a little Yorkie puppy while she sniffed and frolicked; feeling the breezes blow through the leaves and limbs of the surrounding trees; watching birds flutter about chirping one to another; witnessing squirrels scamper and springtime come to life before my eyes in all its array and vast variety with hues of green, patches of clover, wild flowers, and bees a buzzing...I thought, What a horror it would be to have to stay indoors all the time. To see only walls and fluorescent lights and electronic screens.
And then I thought of a prisoner in solitary confinement, with only a small portal for light way up high in a cement block cell. I can't think of a worse torture. So much darkness. I guess prisoners get let out for 30 minutes a day in a small, fenced area, in the more humane prisons. And what of terrorists' prison cells? There's probably no outside time, or only enough to keep the prisoner breathing, to put him back in the hell-hole.
My thoughts meandered to stories I'd heard or read or seen in movies, about prisoners of war, Holocaust survivors, prisoners who survive solitary confinement in the US prison system, kidnap victims...
At times, I look around me and, to the best of my ability, imagine if a bomb were to hit...all this beauty would be ash. In the cities, rubble would be everywhere. Stacks and stacks of rubble. Rubble strewn in the streets. Rubble and ash and stench. Some people live with that every day. Some have known no differently.
My life is good. A reality I am continually aware of...
I will most likely never scuba dive. Or if I do, diving would not be an ongoing, physical, tangible relationship. I'm not a big water-person.
I doubt I'll ever take a civilian trip to outer space, unless that becomes common before I die. But like diving, there would be no ongoing, physical, tangible relationship. Like with water, I'm not big into flying. Though I could be, if I had the funds.
But the earth. The earth. We are together every day. Without her, I couldn't exist. (I couldn't exist without the oceans or space either.)
It's not that I am not in awe of the oceans and heavens. I love them too. But I don't have the love affair with them that I have with the earth, earth being the dirt and all the life it creates and provides. We are together daily. There are times she cradles me, and I am soothed.
Yesterday...as I sat in the shade of a tree on small, grassy hill keeping an eye on a little Yorkie puppy while she sniffed and frolicked; feeling the breezes blow through the leaves and limbs of the surrounding trees; watching birds flutter about chirping one to another; witnessing squirrels scamper and springtime come to life before my eyes in all its array and vast variety with hues of green, patches of clover, wild flowers, and bees a buzzing...I thought, What a horror it would be to have to stay indoors all the time. To see only walls and fluorescent lights and electronic screens.
And then I thought of a prisoner in solitary confinement, with only a small portal for light way up high in a cement block cell. I can't think of a worse torture. So much darkness. I guess prisoners get let out for 30 minutes a day in a small, fenced area, in the more humane prisons. And what of terrorists' prison cells? There's probably no outside time, or only enough to keep the prisoner breathing, to put him back in the hell-hole.
My thoughts meandered to stories I'd heard or read or seen in movies, about prisoners of war, Holocaust survivors, prisoners who survive solitary confinement in the US prison system, kidnap victims...
At times, I look around me and, to the best of my ability, imagine if a bomb were to hit...all this beauty would be ash. In the cities, rubble would be everywhere. Stacks and stacks of rubble. Rubble strewn in the streets. Rubble and ash and stench. Some people live with that every day. Some have known no differently.
My life is good. A reality I am continually aware of...
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| Olivia along New River Trail heading south, 4/13/16 |
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| New River Trail heading north, 4/13/16 |
April 19, 2016
Sometimes I miss...
...having the energy to pen more creative, free-flow writing.
...and then playing with it, much like a drawing or painting that an artist works with over time.
But, I am putting energy elsewhere.
...and, most often, I put that energy into activities that enhance my life.
...activities that add magic and awe.
...that energize, when I can be energized.
...that allow serendipities and increase gratitude and imbue a deep respect for life and its seasons.
My biking goal for 2016 is 1500 miles.
Oh my...I just had a thought.
Maybe I'll go for 2016 in 2016!
1500 miles comes out to an average of 125 miles/month.
2016 miles averages 168 per month.
I wonder if I can do that? Hmmmm....
For the first 3 months in 2016, I rode
...January = 155.8 miles
...February = 67.5 miles
...March = 179.5 miles
That comes to an average of 134.3 miles per month thus far in 2016.
.
So, I'd have to average around 180 per month for the next 9 months, to get to 2016 miles.
I don't know if I can do that.
For now, I'll stick with the 1500-mile goal.
My longest ride at one time has been 26 miles.
I rode that on Wednesday, 4/13/2016 along the New River Trail in Virginia.
Thirteen miles one way, and thirteen miles back.
'Twas a magical day, adding to my feel-good-memories file.
New River Trail State Park
...and then playing with it, much like a drawing or painting that an artist works with over time.
But, I am putting energy elsewhere.
...and, most often, I put that energy into activities that enhance my life.
...activities that add magic and awe.
...that energize, when I can be energized.
...that allow serendipities and increase gratitude and imbue a deep respect for life and its seasons.
My biking goal for 2016 is 1500 miles.
Oh my...I just had a thought.
Maybe I'll go for 2016 in 2016!
1500 miles comes out to an average of 125 miles/month.
2016 miles averages 168 per month.
I wonder if I can do that? Hmmmm....
For the first 3 months in 2016, I rode
...January = 155.8 miles
...February = 67.5 miles
...March = 179.5 miles
That comes to an average of 134.3 miles per month thus far in 2016.
.
So, I'd have to average around 180 per month for the next 9 months, to get to 2016 miles.
I don't know if I can do that.
For now, I'll stick with the 1500-mile goal.
My longest ride at one time has been 26 miles.
I rode that on Wednesday, 4/13/2016 along the New River Trail in Virginia.
Thirteen miles one way, and thirteen miles back.
'Twas a magical day, adding to my feel-good-memories file.
New River Trail State Park