#29 - A Statement-cum-Prayer

I really do not feel like writing a new post, but this damn sense of duty has here me uni-hand typing trying to think about what to write.

Curiously, in my emotional ups and downs, I’ve never questioned that my body will heal completely from the effects of that 2008 stroke. I don't know how, I don't know when, but I refuse to believe that I will die in these circumstances. It’s something I’m still unwilling to accept.

My body has always been strong and in spite of all that I have done to not take care of it, it has been strong and able to carry my weight about with unexpected flexibility and ability.

Now that it’s not what it used to be, I miss every little thing about its past. I promise myself that I will not torment it anymore for not being that desired size 8, 10 or 12. I will honor it and respect it as it is, I won’t dwell in the damaging “what ifs” of my life.

I know what I want, really. Yes, now that I’m 50, almost 51, I really know what I want. I want to fully inhabit my body. As simple as that. I want to claim it proudly mine and mine alone. Through honoring my body I want to honor and love God’s grace upon me. I want to walk long distances on the beach in total communion with Mother Nature. I want to recognize my identity in bodies of water. I want to travel and know rivers and creeks, lakes and ponds and the immeasurable ocean. I want to fall on my knees facing the sea and soulfully weep the joy of my human finiteness and the power and fragility of this my human body.

I want to walk in the rain like when I was a teenager so long ago, raise my face to the raindrops and let them do with me what they must, drench me in the sky’s holy waters.

And when this is not possible because, well, I live in Texas, I want to go home and walk on my treadmill simply because both my legs are strong again and I can hold on tightly to the machine’s bars. And my mind will go silly while I watch a sitcom or a cop show, while my legs do what they were created to do. Walk.

I want to do my dishes, I want to do my laundry, I want to explore cooking. I want to dedicate my time to beautifying my home. I want to spoon regularly while in bed with my husband and fall asleep with his arms keeping all scary shadows at bay.

I will not accept that these simple things will never be possible again. If we do not fully understand the workings and potential of our brains, I’m here to tell you that it has an incredible ability to self-heal and even now, just as I am right this minute, cane and all, non-functioning left hand and all, I’m a wonderful example of that.

But just you wait…