Wednesday, November 4, 2015

"Dream Squatting"

G'Day, Readers,

Over these past few months I have been regularly mentally hugging something quite wonderful and I really wanted to share it with all the people out there in similar medical shituations, especially with those who are just at the beginning of that seemingly endless road of infusions, tablets, blood draws and emergency rooms.

The wonderful:

Compared to a year and a half ago, there is a huge difference between how then, I would note in my personal journal with a great sense of accomplishment, everyday things which most people take for granted--or as annoyances even.  Stuff like dog-walking or floor-mopping or doing errands or laundry.   A year+ ago, I was noting it all, with downright pride.   (But don't get me wrong, I certainly do mentally note well every little thing I do--especially when they are done in the afternoons and sans-tramadol.)

Nowadays, I write in that journal far less often and the "accomplishments" I list now, are more like they might have been say, five years ago, before the MPA diagnosis, (mixed with the extra "thing" du jour, the latest one being the colic).

Things like painting not one, but THREE pieces in a week, or writing and recording a new song with 10 tracks of harmonies recently, or like just this morning, singing and editing the vocals for a cover song for a DJ connection of mine, followed by the graphic end of the work for this here piece, called, "Dream Squatting".

It's directly from a dream I was lucky enough to be blown away by the other night, in which I somehow had the view of the "me" in the cowboy hat, in front of that pulsating, vibrating, humming sun and moon, while being "me".

Tony was added in post.  

All of these feats would simply not have been, only a year and a half ago and I write these words for anyone out there staring at the great wall that is chronic illness and the endless heavy, dangerous treatments and pain and fatigue that goes with it.

Sure, I did the bulk of these works either in the mornings (as I still only have about 5 hours a day of solid chi), or with tramadol-assists in the afternoons, but still, I was not only able physically to do these things, but able to receive the whispering muses once more. 

It just takes considerable time--probably as much time as it took to wear our bodies down to the nubs they became.

So please, to those struggling right now, dig as deep as you can.

Nothing in this whole Universe is more worth it all, than YOU.

And I wish you patience and I wish you grace.

Now it's time for me to be horizontal.