Depressurized

Progress without pressure is a tough one, but my own pressure is different

 ~ a backlog of should and shouldn't block my desires, my intentions to accomplish great or ordinary things logs made of should, huge and heavy, 

depending on whose words I caught and tossed 

in the river of words in my head, 

(some carry more weight than another). 

So:

Ignore the should’s - 

after all they’re not real logs. 

If they were my head would have exploded by now.

Make it a game with colours, shapes and music ~

just take it off the top to get it done

kind of like the old game Pick Up Sticks!

 

Banish the resistance: I am smart enough to do the tough stuff.

So there! 

Once order is set ~ the order that feels right to my heart

Pressure rearranged, game played ~ I can proceed.

“Should is a futile word. It’s about what didn’t happen. 

It belongs in a parallel universe. 

It belongs in another dimension of space.”

~ Margaret Atwood, The Blind Assassin

Many Shades

Epilepsy ripples through humanity. A pretty basic statement. How then do I fit that into my own story? I am but one of many with epilepsy and our stories are all different. Not only the details but the type of epilepsy we each own. The extent of how our daily lives are affected. The only commonality we each have is that epilepsy is an electrical brain disorder with many causes, and some diagnoses have no known cause. My epilepsy is the ‘no known cause’ kind. My story then is an answer to the question: What besides medication can I do to support my control of some of my life? Simple: Stress management, take my medications as ordered, realize and dampen triggers to my seizures and regular sleep hygiene. My story with epilepsy management is much greater than the disorder or just taking medications. Some people's stories may be similar to my own. The stories of others are much more detailed and frightening than mine. Unmanageable and atypical seizures, multiple medications, inability for regular or meaningful employment, surgical treatments, drastic mood changes, suicidal ideation, marital problems and learning disabilities. Too much drama? Scary? For those that live with it, it definitely is.

Today - March 26th, is an annual day for Epilepsy Awareness. Each province and state has an Epilepsy Organization. The Canadian Epilepsy Alliance is Canada’s national organization for epilepsy information.

“The human spirit is stronger than anything that can happen to it.”

~ George C. Scott

Resource:  https://www.canadianepilepsyalliance.org

There are Times

Times my hands show me how old I really am - thick ropy veins, skin thin and wrinkled

Old scars from a nick here or there 

from rose bushes or blackberry vines, 

cuts from the paring knife when preparing meals, 

one white patch from a cooking burn

lumpy and bumpy fingernails 

that snap off too easily, 

(I could blame that on the pandemic 

with no access for a mani/pedi, 

but no, they are as old as the rest of me, 

and have been through as many battles)

when I think of these so called battles ~

they are not wars fought, but life lived. 

kneading, stretching or punching the life into bread, 

rolling balls of cookie dough between my palms, 

squishing ground meat into meat balls, 

wrapping both hands around a fresh warm cup of coffee 

when the day has grown cold; 

penning these words and thousands more 

crocheting afghans that would not win any prizes 

at the fair but kept me focused on the next stitch ~ 

gifts for the babies of many family and friends

pruning bushes and trees ~ feeling the strength of my grip 

all the way to my shoulders. 

fingers digging in spring soil feeling the richness of dirt. 

picking peas in the garden and eating as many as possible. 

tenderly holding a warm peach picked from a summer tree 

holding it to my lips, feeling the juice sticky and sweet 

on my hands, dripping all the way to my elbows. 

I am grateful for my hands and 

when I think of all these things, 

my hands are no longer old and wrinkled

but silent diaries of my life, 

sculpted while I live with them 

gifts that caress me when I lotion my skin, 

hide my eyes when I cry and 

make silly faces to make babies and children laugh. 

And best of all, 

my hands have held my babies - 

my sons, my grandson and my great-granddaughter. 

“He who works with his hands and his head and his heart is an artist.”

~ Francis of Assisi