What Goes Around May Come

What Goes Around May Come

Days – of all sorts – come, until so many years are gone. Thinking of the past may be one of the most crippling parts of living. Yes we reflect, accept, appreciate, and douse ourselves in nostalgia’s perfume – memorable, happy, naïve, young. But days pass and, still, we believe the past is more worth living because the present hurts and what we’ve missed on the day, now gone, must be lived in memory’s yesterday; today must wait.

Unfortunately the trouble is not just in the day of today, but also in its blocksthe call can wait; I’ll call back tomorrow…next week; but what if the time that suits you best never comes? I’m not claiming to be ‘all wise and all knowing,’ but I do know from my own experiences and habits that convenience is yours to do with what you want, and is derived from your priorities – your system’s network, wired and routed to your daily life goals, that is only activated by those most proximal, or pertinent, to your day’s success.

Today, I found myself going around and around about what I want – what I need – and I cannot convince my mind as to why I didn’t pick up the phone when those who cared wanted to talk – wanted to help, I’m sure, if I’d only answered and asked. Scared I was of disappointment, in myself and in those I never answered. So consumed with the ‘have to dos,’ I blocked the externals out and, in result, tied myself to a pole going forever around and around until my circle was perfect. Little did I realize that what goes around, may – will – come. Now I’m feeling the dead, busy lines of what I once represented; and my waist is tied, still, to my rope so that I cannot reach to troubleshoot.

I’ve come around, a full circle made, and my corners are dirty; dust-filled with negligence.

Like those I once avoided for fear of giving bad news, I’ve become – unanswered. Un-begrudgingly we act towards those as we’ve been treated; reciprocating, by example, how those who acted may wish to be regarded. We, our kind, complete this circle and go around and around to be faced with what may in fact come back from what we thought was past.

MS alone brings many burdens and hardships; ones that I’m not too proud to say are impossible to manage alone. Stubborn and defeated, I shut off (or at least I want to), and decide that I don’t have the energy to deal with anyone or anything that has nothing to do with my sufferings; for fear of burdening them with these sufferings or for fear of wasting my energies. Why do I do this to myself…to others? Of course I have no energy; I’ve spent it on fury – fury with my symptoms, fury with myself – why me? – fury with loved ones so far away. Now that I’ve realized my mistakes in communication and in not living the day as given, I’ve completed a full revolution and must resolve my course of action, break my circle, and mend my course of action towards others so that – perhaps, in turn – I may be answered.


Listen and Hear Me

Listen and Hear Me

Listen and Hear Me

How do you know when it’s all worthwhile? How do you know that everything you’ve put forth is right? How do you know when you’ll be hurt, or when you’ll be healed? How do you know what step to take next? Will it be for you, or for the collective, or some other incomprehensible congress? How do you know…?

Sitting – soaking – sinking into my thoughts; my insecurities, my fears. Immobilized by my own mind, though my body has already claimed this control, I feel lost and don’t know how to fix this; this feeling of gross uncertainty. I seek council, guidance, and support.

‘Help me, God,’ runs unbroken through my mind – thoughts of desperation. I reach out and feel nothing; out again, feeling walled. I retract my reach and wrap around to find comfort in myself – I will listen.

We call unceasing talk a “broken record.” But in saying this, do we in fact break the record? For though we communicate through sight, sound, body, and pen, it is the security of being heard – listened to and understood – through which we know our wondering can be finite; and if broken prematurely by impatient annoyance, risky leaps of a decisive nature are taken; some vital, some not. So listen and hear me; and I will do the same.

P . M . A .

P . M . A .


Someone recently told me that I don’t have MS, and with assuredness told me that I actually have P.M.A. Stricken, choked, down-right puzzled as to why this person would say that to me after my very personal disclosure I instinctively raised my defense, building high its walls, and ready to rebuke this potentially false statement. Hesitant, however, I am to act out this defense so I look towards them, pain clearly drawn in my eyes. ‘Do you know what P.M.A. is?’ they question.
I reply, ‘No, what is P.M.A.?’
‘You suffer from a Positive Mental Attitude!’

I will not, without a doubt, ever forget this very surprising and uplifting conversation. It’s, now, roughly two weeks later and I am STILL going over it in my head and how this individual drew this about me from a mere 20 minutes of knowing me. What an impact this experience has had; one that continues to grow. I am stunned that someone was able to see my perseverance, my drive, to overcome having MS.

A large number of those I tell have the same response, ‘You’re too young!’

My answer to the congress: ‘No, I am not too young to have MS.’

To give the benefit of the doubt, I can understand this exclamation is not to tell me that I cannot possibly have MS; that I must be doing something wrong to be affected at such an age. I can understand it is a typical mode of sympathy, possibly routed from ignorance, primarily used to send along condolences without saying something that may otherwise actually be offensive, so I do appreciate the sentiment rather than feel condescended.

Today, this same P.M.A. individual said they like when I smile and when I smile at them. My father tells me, ‘Have a good day and don’t forget to let your little light shine’ – referring to the song This Little Light of Mine that I used to sing when I was young all the time (and I do mean all the time).

Hearing these positive remarks – P.M.A and like of a smile – assure me that I am indeed ‘letting my little light shine.’

I began this blog with the hope and the motivation to spread my experience with those who wish to read my words and to spread some light; for myself and for any others feeling drowned in darkness and defeat.

Going forth, I will most certainly add P.M.A. to my list of sufferings and credentials; and I will continue my education in the practice of shining positivity.

For Your Entertainment

For Your Entertainment

Entertainment. A pleasurable experience we all incorporate into our lives; a societal diversion of which we also seldom have complete control. It is a motivating force, an uplifting hoist, an escape from reality, and a chance to relate and find a community that is alike you. As I cruise through life, I find that I go through my daily interactions in a very similar, very repetitive pattern – acting aloof to break the silence, for hopes of a chuckle and to flip the frowns – all for the sake of entertainment.

I suppose this communicative pattern that I’ve observed is more or less innate – almost automatic – that I desire to entertain and make light of shady spaces. As early as I can remember, I’ve danced and entertained and never once despised the exposure of my passion to those eager to experience it. No doubt, not all forms of performance did I feel as driven to pursue; for example, I could never comfortably sing alone in front of an audience no matter how much I loved to sing. But the dancing, I could not perform enough and I now wish I’d seen that endless passionate pursuit earlier; for I loved to entertain.

To be successful in bringing cheer to those around me is more rewarding than I can explain. At work the other day I found myself standing up in front of my exercise crew (a group of lively and energetic seniors) walking like a “spotty dog” to demonstrate what I was trying to avoid during the sitting exercises. Spotty dog is a term that I learnt while dancing on the cruise ships. It refers to the action of walking, moving, dancing while leading with the same arm and leg; in opposed to stepping forward with the right leg and swinging the left arm, which is much more natural and essential for maintaining balance. As I finish my demonstration the group giggles and I realize how foolish I just made myself look, but I did not feel humiliated. Deep within my soul I wanted that reaction. I wanted to entertain and to see the enjoyment from my enthusiastic demonstration.

This desire to entertain has aided my methods of coping with my MS; which I say with complete certainty. When my sister was living with me, my MS would be a key contributor to our laughing fits while we walked together. I’d be staggering like a drunk fool – a not yet coordinated child with knees giving out then locking back in hyperextension – swaying heavily to the side instead of straight ahead. The experience is really quite humorous because no matter how much I focused, the coordination was just not there, I was either over or undershooting, and all I could do was clutch her hand trusting that she had us both. Though this is a rather unfortunate circumstance and even quite saddening one could say, it’s remarkably beautiful that together we could make light of it and be joyfully entertained; better yet, that I was the spark that ignited the flame.

Reality can be a hard pill to swallow, and for many one that does not go down at all. Having MS is definitely one that continues to come back up, even after I’ve downed it with the impression it’ll stay. Unfortunately, there’s no telling when it will come back again, but I know that I will not choke and that having this monster of a disease cannot make me a monster. This, I know for a fact. My MS has made me grow and has been one huge push to finding humility as well as the confidence to make what I love apart of my life. So this is me, here I am for your entertainment and my own sanity.

It Takes Two

It Takes Two

Every relationship has an ever-changing balance scale that is significantly dependent on the now events, location, and personal commitments. I bring this point up because I want to talk about a feeling that I’ve been struggling with for quite some time. An adjustment that I’ve once (even twice) before had to cope with, work through, and find my own strength.

For months I’ve been searching, wanting, pleading for the attention and proximity from a relationship that was once exemplar of just that. This person was my person. You see that the fame and glamorous life of being a twin is just that, but it also comes with so many underlying hardships. The desire, the need to be the same – identical – isn’t solely a societal expectation, but also a very personal and debilitating pressure. Going through these changes and physical losses have been tremendously heartbreaking for me and I’m sure for my twin as well. Taking such drastic measures to cope and deal with my situation while having my sister there every step of the way makes me realize how truly thankful I was and am. The one person that I can be so easily vulnerable with because they are so similar. They know me and I trust them because they’ve been there since the beginning and we’re practically the same, right? Wrong.

I realize now that I’ve come to a point where I want to be done searching for this once felt closeness because I know that it’s still there, just in a different form. As hard as I try to hold onto something that is no longer there or the way it used to be, I understand that I’m setting myself up for failure. I analyze what I might have done wrong to prevent them from staying. Did I push them away? Did I simply chose not to go? Could I – would I have done things differently? I don’t think I’ll ever find the answers, and I don’t think I am supposed to. We’ve begun to go our separate ways, start our own lives, focus on our individual priorities, and accept the fact that we are far from the same. Yes we call each other to realize our days, though separated by miles, went very much the same. And that is remarkable in itself; how closely you can relate to one person. But reflecting on this observation, I’ve definitely found relatable qualities with others that live closer to me. And that feeling of relief to know you are not alone in your feelings – you are not alone in this life, is equally as satisfying to open up to another who is willing to protect your vulnerabilities.

I mentioned earlier that I’ve found myself twice before – the first was my first contract dancing on a cruise line, the second was when we decided to move to different locations to give our energy to other relationships. Both times were challenging of course, but why did this time seem so much harder? Why was this time filled with much more loneliness than I could have anticipated? All the time spent together is now open…so open, it’s difficult to understand how we filled it. I suppose that’s why people search for their “soulmate;” so they never have to worry about the terrifying aspect of continuous solitude. I do enjoy my solitude but have not, until now, fully understood how much more I enjoy companionship.