Miraculous Monday

 Heading to PT today. One body part feels stronger, another feels weaker. Working on balance is testing my mettle. I’m a flailing whale, not a graceful gazelle. I know everything takes time, but do I feel pangs of what if. Why did God make me this way, where marching in place for thirty seconds straight makes my equilibrium shake. It also doesn’t help that I’m woefully out of shape. That’s a whole other issue. I can only handle one at a time. I had to talk to my best friend to remind me that CP is one part of my story, and I’m finally learning the other parts of my story. The world has defined so much by that one part, and so have I. Here’s to learning who I am. I really don’t know who I am now, versus who I was before. It feels so odd getting to know all of myself. It’s very odd, but a little exciting. Do I write the story of the scared being afraid of its own shadow, to breaking free of my own expectation. That is the question. I can’t answer that right now. I’ve spent a life, hiding. I spent a life seeking. I’ve spent a life in deep reflection and utter contemplation. I’ve wondered and wandered a globe searching for meaning for my life. My life that can’t be measured in societal standards and norms. No matter how much PT is working my body, my mind is undergoing bulldozing. Where what you once thought has been completely obliterated. God is using what I didn’t want to get me to what I’m in need of. Miraculous.