Lately, life has been reverting back to simple things. My days play out in a pattern dictated by my body, what it can tolerate and what functions it needs to perform. I have learned to adjust, but living with MS is a constant adjustment and forever a lesson in patience.Nothing stays the same for very long anymore.
I’ve been talking about my books a lot, here on the blog, but I thought I’d give you a more personal taste of my daily routine as an author and someone living with a chronic disease—MS.
With a new year in mind, I recently wrote a poem in simile form about hope, how I see it and what it means to me.
The morning light slants in an east window near my chair, highlighting a ruby-colored candy dish, making it gleam a bright pink. How different things appear in bright light. It makes me wonder how I’d look under such circumstances.
We can seek and make unlikely friends and associations when our spirit needs them. Perhaps in this time, of being more distant with friends and family, you have done the same.
I challenge us all to think a little harder, dig a little deeper, pray a little more, and clean out more than our cupboards this spring. May a physical inventory prompt an inner one. That’s what I’m striving for.
Art and life require a matter of perspective. You can’t make sense of what you see until you take into account the scope of what’s around you.
I see hope—sandwiched in the middle of faith and love—like an elusive mist, there one moment and gone the next. You can’t see it, but you sense it, like the evidence of the wind on the waves.