Day 4
Last night, everything hurt, especially my hands and arms. It really sucked. All I could do was lay there, pray, and breathe through it until sleep finally took me. So, waking up without as much pain, and then feeling liberated at the gym - it was glorious. Nearly as wonderful as the ecstasy of intense worship.
Anyway, after we warmed up, I decided to spend a half hour on the recline bike. I walked into the theater filled with exercise equipment. A woman was riding a bike, watching the Bourne Identity. I settled into the motion of pedaling and turned my attention to the big screen.
Was it the jiggles? Or the giggles? I don't know. Whatever the reason, I looked over at the woman and said quite loudly, "Damn woman! You are doing great!"
A smile spread across her face. I could see that my words meant so much to her. She told me all about her exercise routine and how hard it had been to get started.
Now, this outburst of mine may not seem to be of much importance. Well, normally, I am quiet unless I am speaking for a "purpose". My husband says that he has to pull words out of me. So, this was actually a big leap for me - spontaneous and exuberant.
The lady finished her workout and left, leaving me to continue my own. As I pedaled, I thought about silence and voice. I considered how many people with Parkinson's lose their ability to freely and understandably communicate, which leaves them feeling isolated and alone.
Here I am, still able to speak clearly. But I so rarely speak. Sure, I talk during our twice-a-week online meetings for Fellowship of Mystery. Yes, I do speak with my husband. Every now and then one of my children will call. But for the most part, I'm silent - absorbed in my thoughts, watching a video, studying Scripture.
This needs to change!
I recall an elderly woman I once knew in Maine. Everyone in our community thought she was crazy. One day, she asked me to walk her home. As we walked, she explained that she understood how everyone viewed her. But, she said, "I'm older now. I'm too old to care what people think of me. I will be joyful for being alive. Silly as a child. Giddy as a goat, if I want to be."
That is how I feel today. I want to be as giddy as a goat. If Parkinson's wants to make my body act like Mr. Bojangles, then that is what I want to be in that moment. If I see someone I don't know, you betcha, I'm going to speak up and say, "Hello!". Even if the tremors increase.
It's funny now that I think about this. All these years I've been speaking online and at conferences. I wonder how many people had any inkling of how difficult it was for me to speak - how even more difficult it has gotten over the years. It's not because I slur my words. Sure, sometimes now I get tongue tied or I'm slow in fashioning together what I want to say. The issue is, when I speak it is stressful. It's work.
When I speak, the trembling inside increases. Lately when I speak, I can feel the tremors inching their way outwards, seeking full expression. Especially when the topic is one that is wrought with stress, such as money, politics, the wacky world we live in now days. Certainly, I don't want to avoid those topics. It simply is how it is. This body wants to resonate harder when the topic is darker or harder or the conversation is more intense.
But really. I think I need to come to terms with the jitter bugs.
Ha! Now if I start to tremble, I don't need to worry about if someone notices. I've got an excuse! If my head starts fluffing about like a dizzy goose, awesome! The feathery down filling the air will tickle someone's nose.
As far as how the tremors feel ... shoot. I'm vibrating off the planet anyway. I may as well learn to enjoy the ride.
On a more serious note, voice. It is so important. Afterall, God fashioned the stars and filled them with song. Each song is unique. Each star song blends together with all other songs in Creation, fashioning a beautiful sound. It's so disharmoniously harmonious that even the rocks join in, raising praise to God.
What better praise can I offer than to use my voice to simply say to another person, "Hi. I see you. You are here. I am here. Isn't it grand?" I figure God might count what such words cost me and determine that the resulting shakes merit the world to come ... or at least a chocolate chip cookie.
Well, it is 5 o'clock now. It is difficult to sleep now. I used to be such a good sleeper. I guess I'll try to take a nap. Maybe I will dream about the symphony of stars that welcomes life-weary travelers into the realms above.
Anyway, after we warmed up, I decided to spend a half hour on the recline bike. I walked into the theater filled with exercise equipment. A woman was riding a bike, watching the Bourne Identity. I settled into the motion of pedaling and turned my attention to the big screen.
Was it the jiggles? Or the giggles? I don't know. Whatever the reason, I looked over at the woman and said quite loudly, "Damn woman! You are doing great!"
A smile spread across her face. I could see that my words meant so much to her. She told me all about her exercise routine and how hard it had been to get started.
Now, this outburst of mine may not seem to be of much importance. Well, normally, I am quiet unless I am speaking for a "purpose". My husband says that he has to pull words out of me. So, this was actually a big leap for me - spontaneous and exuberant.
The lady finished her workout and left, leaving me to continue my own. As I pedaled, I thought about silence and voice. I considered how many people with Parkinson's lose their ability to freely and understandably communicate, which leaves them feeling isolated and alone.
Here I am, still able to speak clearly. But I so rarely speak. Sure, I talk during our twice-a-week online meetings for Fellowship of Mystery. Yes, I do speak with my husband. Every now and then one of my children will call. But for the most part, I'm silent - absorbed in my thoughts, watching a video, studying Scripture.
This needs to change!
I recall an elderly woman I once knew in Maine. Everyone in our community thought she was crazy. One day, she asked me to walk her home. As we walked, she explained that she understood how everyone viewed her. But, she said, "I'm older now. I'm too old to care what people think of me. I will be joyful for being alive. Silly as a child. Giddy as a goat, if I want to be."
That is how I feel today. I want to be as giddy as a goat. If Parkinson's wants to make my body act like Mr. Bojangles, then that is what I want to be in that moment. If I see someone I don't know, you betcha, I'm going to speak up and say, "Hello!". Even if the tremors increase.
It's funny now that I think about this. All these years I've been speaking online and at conferences. I wonder how many people had any inkling of how difficult it was for me to speak - how even more difficult it has gotten over the years. It's not because I slur my words. Sure, sometimes now I get tongue tied or I'm slow in fashioning together what I want to say. The issue is, when I speak it is stressful. It's work.
When I speak, the trembling inside increases. Lately when I speak, I can feel the tremors inching their way outwards, seeking full expression. Especially when the topic is one that is wrought with stress, such as money, politics, the wacky world we live in now days. Certainly, I don't want to avoid those topics. It simply is how it is. This body wants to resonate harder when the topic is darker or harder or the conversation is more intense.
But really. I think I need to come to terms with the jitter bugs.
Ha! Now if I start to tremble, I don't need to worry about if someone notices. I've got an excuse! If my head starts fluffing about like a dizzy goose, awesome! The feathery down filling the air will tickle someone's nose.
As far as how the tremors feel ... shoot. I'm vibrating off the planet anyway. I may as well learn to enjoy the ride.
On a more serious note, voice. It is so important. Afterall, God fashioned the stars and filled them with song. Each song is unique. Each star song blends together with all other songs in Creation, fashioning a beautiful sound. It's so disharmoniously harmonious that even the rocks join in, raising praise to God.
What better praise can I offer than to use my voice to simply say to another person, "Hi. I see you. You are here. I am here. Isn't it grand?" I figure God might count what such words cost me and determine that the resulting shakes merit the world to come ... or at least a chocolate chip cookie.
Well, it is 5 o'clock now. It is difficult to sleep now. I used to be such a good sleeper. I guess I'll try to take a nap. Maybe I will dream about the symphony of stars that welcomes life-weary travelers into the realms above.