Something inside me is coming alive again.
It’s November 30th and the wind bites as leaves are whisked to and fro around me, tumbling along the side of the street like a Solstice dance. I can feel Winter approaching, the season most associated with death, strangely bringing new life to my body. There’s a spring in my step I have not had in months, years, and in my mind’s eye I see a rush of new cells cascading through my veins, remaking themselves healthier, stronger. They say the body regenerates itself every seven years, though scientific validity of this claim is arguable. What is known, however, is that various cells of the body do in fact regenerate in specified intervals. The liver, for example, is said to regenerate every six weeks and the skin every thirty-five days. To quote one of my favorite authors, “you are not who you once were,” even several months ago. Continue reading
How can one heart, sanctified by purity, oscillate between two such opposing extremes; on the one end bitterness, and the other, gratitude. How can the same soul, which awakes with thanksgiving at the sound of seagulls calling to one another in the misty morning hours, also lie down with enmity toward those who soar through life without second thought to limitations or constraints. Without second thought to the little things throughout the day that are so easily taken for granted. The things which those of us bound by the chains of our own bodies long to have the freedom to do once again. The things our sickness so unforgivingly snatched away. Of how deeply we pine for the simple things of life. To plan a lunch date without fear of whether we will be stricken by pain. To make a commitment without considering how it may interrupt or affect our tedious and time-consuming treatment. To jump with joy in response to a victory, an exciting report, or even just because we feel like showing our delight. And on to the bigger little things, such as the ability to throw on a pair of sneakers and run with no goal or end in mind, or to hike up a mountain or even a sizeable hill, to swim in the sea, to dance at a wedding, to attend an exercise class, or any number of physical things that should characterize the years of youth and remain throughout decades to come.