Thursday, June 25, 2015

Fragility

Life is so very fragile. This is something I am reminded of daily. Working with my little Matt-Man in Louisiana was a lesson in this, and I was reminded over and over again about how much we can take things for granted, and not notice so much of what is going on around us. Matty noticed everything. He saw everything, heard everything, and felt everything. He may have been unable to express it with an extravagant number of words, but he definitely knew how to express to us what he was feeling. He knew when something was wrong with one of the few people truly in his life, and he felt their emotions; he would reflect their emotions and feel their pain. My mood became Matty's mood, his mom's pain became his pain, and he would cuddle her and try to comfort her. His heart is golden, and innocent, and pure. He doesn't know anything other than being honest with what he feels, and trying to show love in every way that he can, and, let me tell you, that little man can show love better than most people I have ever had the privilege of knowing. I miss my Matt-Man.

Right now I am being given the opportunity to work with someone else who is in need of some help, and I am once again completely and utterly humbled. This person is currently dealing with being paralyzed from an accident. He wasn't expected to begin to do what he is doing now, or to get movement and control like he is getting. I am trying to help him strengthen his muscles that he has control of, and to gain control of other muscles as we move further down the road. It is amazing to watch his strength. Not only his mental strength, but his emotional strength and his physical strength, as well. His spirits are high, and his families are right there to match him. They push him, but beyond that, he pushes himself. There is no gloom and no doubt in the atmosphere, just a powerful and relentless fight and hope. He is in tune with every aspect of his body; he feels single nerves, tendons, different areas of different muscles, and he is training his brain to target them specifically. Watching him literally makes my heart overflow with astonishment and joy. He reminds me that there is no room for excuses in life; if we want something bad enough, there is nothing that can, or should, stop us from achieving it. We need to push ourselves past mental blocks and negativity or doubt, and simply bring ourselves there. 

What I have learned from both Matty and the man I am working with now, is simply to remember how fragile life is; I am reminded to take the time to appreciate everything in my life--from the ability to type these words and use my hands, to the passion for health and wellness that has allowed me to be an asset in both of their lives. Their families have shown me what it is to look tragedy in the face, and simply tell it no; to refuse to be brought down without getting back up. They have shown me the power of resiliency and how much positivity can change so much about how we live--about how much HOPE can change everything. 

It's so important that we live as positive as we can, and that we take time to appreciate everything and everyone that comes into our lives. How wonderful it is when we take the time to learn something from everyone and every experience--when we take the time to talk to people, to get to know them deeply, to learn their struggle, their joy, their pain and their laughter, and we take something from it all. When we take time to slow down and take in the world, and to take in the lives of those around us. When we invest in the lives that are put in our path long enough to understand why they were placed there, something beautiful is allowed to transpire. We are able to learn, we are able to grow and we are able to share that growth and those lessons with others that we meet. And maybe, just maybe, those stories, when shared, will help someone else make it through their pain or their struggle. Before we see it coming, or could expect it, life could end, and we shouldn't allow the days to be brought to an end without growth of some form. 

Friday, June 19, 2015

Breathe in Deep

Sometimes I write with no real goal in mind. Sometimes the only thing on my mind when I breathe in deep and begin typing, or journaling, is simply that I need to release some sort of emotion. 

Tonight I'm feeling overwhelmed and a little bit disheartened. I had a good day today, and the pain wasn't too bad. I had to take pain killers this morning, when I got out of bed, but that was the only time I took them. Certain twists and turns hurt after that, but that is all. I normally handle the random days like that well. I had a couple while in Louisiana, and managed to power through them with no doctor. My neighbor was a nurse and came over the second time. Yesterday was extreme, though, and so I went in. 

It's not that I can't handle it, but it just becomes exhausting. I get sick of not being able to eat something without thinking it may put me in the hospital. I want to be able to enjoy my life worry free. 

But that's part of what shapes us, isn't it? The things we go through and how we handle them? I guess sometimes it makes me sad, or makes me feel like people don't really get it; they don't really get what I deal with on a daily basis and what I worry about every day. 

Writing is an outlet, running is an outlet, and the gym is an outlet. That is why I can't let those things go. They keep me positive and happy. And I want to be a positive person to other people. I want to be able to help others, and I can't do that if I let my own life bring me down. 

I'm excited, and nervous, about the coming weeks and trying to get 100% better. I'm excited to find the answer I think I already know, and to be given the proper solutions. I'm nervous for the procedures that need to be done, and all the needle pokes and prodding that is going to be happening. It's not going to be pleasant, but at least it will lead to a pleasant result, God willing. I'm nervous I'll need another surgery, or they'll find something I don't want to know about. But I know I need answers. 

I have so many people around me, on a daily basis, and yet I feel, and fight a desire to be, alone. I'm sensitive to things people say, and sometimes words cut deep, even when people don't realize they are being hurtful. I want to talk, and I want someone to listen, while, simultaneously, I don't want to talk at all. And so I write, because I need to let my feelings out and I need to release stress in an expressive way, and not just actively at the gym. I have to express myself. This is something I struggle with when it comes to talking with people, but something I've learned to do through my writing. I think this is because I know every word isn't being judged, and I'm not going to be cut off when I write, and people can read it or not; it doesn't matter to me. 

I love knowing that my writing has helped people; I love knowing people have read my stories and felt connections to my characters, and have wanted me to write more. Truth be told, though, I've never done it for anyone except myself. It's a need that has been born into me, just like I have an inability to saying no to helping someone, I'm also incapable of not writing. I guess when emotions are overflowing in me, they just demand to be released through pen and page. 

And now that I have worked out the melancholy within me, I'm headed to the gym, to work out all the frustration buried deeper down. 

Cheers, and, as always...

Jesus, I trust in You.