It is so much easier to wish for tomorrow, that phantom time that will let us live our life the way we want to, not the way our kids mold our days and nights, not the way our parents shape what happens with questions and love, not the way the should tasks fill much of the 24/7 schedule.
Sometimes the only way I get through the periods of pain is by focusing on what will -- OK may -- be possible another time.
Yet the pain - in my body, or my mind or my heart - clearly calls me back to the moment. That pain shouts deal with me NOW.
Sometimes the rythmatic actions of online games can mask the frightening accumulation of pains.
Sometimes the warmth of conversation can melt the icy coat of hurt.
Sometimes catching the happiness that crosses the faces of those lost in the now is enough, is inspiring, is a call to action.
Can I create moments modeled by Jimmy Fallon who often giggles with the delight of the results of the right guest at the right time?
Does a grin cross my face and sparkle my eyes just like Keith Urban on a morning TV show performing "You Look Good in My Shirt?"
Do I ever get lost like the child who disappears into a bucket of Legos, box of crayons or a body-swallwoing mud puddle..
But, mostly I wait in the clutter of tomorrow.
I wait for that day when there will be time to read the books that are no longer grouped by subject and those books that wait in boxes for their turn on the shelves.
I wait for the right pattern, the right mood, the right idea to turn the yards of fabric, the boxes of embellishments and the bolts of ribbon into the beautiful objects that I see in my mind. I start many projects, finish few.
I wait for the space, the right tools, the day when the words and memories flow to deal with the photos aching for a place in an album that is completed with the who, what, when, where and why.
My contact list, my Rolodex, my addressbooks are filled with names and details such as birthdays and anniversaries. I am still overwhelmed by perfection and let the personal celebrations slide by with no acknowledgement from me, with no purchased card let alone one of the many cards I've put together or could put together. Next year, I tell myself.
So much waits for that moment when it is their turn to step into the moment and out of tomorrow.
About this blog
Yes, I'm still alive. Yes, the above explains some of the reasons that no posts appeared for such a long time. Yes, it has been a rough time because the thoughts remain even when I lose the ability to recognize and repeat the right words at the right time. I am dreaming more and moving less. I am trying new medications, new practices, new habits to try to return the multiple sclerosis to the stage that allowed me to work hard, to write right, to move freely and frequently. Let's see what happens.