I went through quite a bit with this disease but am currently stabilized. It took a lot of work. In my recovery, something quite profound happened. It took over a year to manifest, but I can hear the birds now.
I have no limiting hearing issues, but what my previous stressful life caused was a cloaking of all things good. Things I forgot I needed-serene sounds that I desperately missed. I had to get to a point of peace and relaxation to hear the birds again. They wake me up through my cracked bedroom window. There’s nothing more pleasurable than a cool breeze coming through and being awakened by singing birds announcing the new morning. So, I consciously started collecting and savoring the Ahhhs.
This one little act was responsible for augmented my peace. I love birds and always have. I feed them now and enjoy watching them come in to eat. They dance and sing for their potential mates. Their babies learn to feed here now and they all compete with the squirrels in fighting for that last sunflower seed. I can settle in and enjoy the birds now. Cool morning air offset by layers of blankets up to my neck. I’m breathing in that cool air-it doesn’t get any better. I enjoy so much now, so many simple things.
I started allowing all things good to absorb into my skin, to be enveloped by my eyes, ears, and nose. I count them now, and as a result, all my positive senses are alive. I remember one short trip in the car. How beautiful the sky was, and I am driving. It’s one thing to drive, but it’s another to acknowledge that you have the ability to drive today. I’m counting my blessing.
Today, I road a trike-bike for the first time ever. Freedom with no worries of falling. The excitement of meeting up with my support group made all this a reality. The fellowship and happiness of all of us is contagious.
There’s holding a baby, and then there’s a mother pulling her baby close where she’s absorbing the connection of the love with her child. That’s what I learned to do with everything I see, hear, smell, or feel that affects me positively. I’m intentionally extending the experiences – giving them a longer shelf-life if you will. I recall those for extended pleasure and peace.
I even slow the dissent into my bed every night. My left knee sinks into the pillow top and my right leg dangles for just a sweet second before it completely lands on the bed. It’s so relaxing and I look forward to that very simple dissent every single night. Sinking into the fluffiness of the mattress. All pins & Needles dissipate from the comfort of the dissent. It’s the little things you can recall at a whim to relive it’s joy.
I go to a flea market every once in a while, and it’s a beautiful mixture of people and their genuine interactions. It brings me great joy as I see a teenage caucasian male sitting next to an approximately 80 to 90-year-old African-American male, and they’re just chewing the fat and talking about whatever they’re talking about. They’re enjoying each other’s company. Despite the overwhelming sell of the news, this warms my soul. Reminds me of how I grew up in the mass diversity of the big city. I recall this memory often for my own joy. Everything pursued is possible.
The patio door is open and it’s early March. The cool almost cold air rolls in and I need to breathe it. I suspect there’s quite a lot of us that need to do that. When I’m overheated, I step on my cold cement patio barefoot. It’s an instant body air conditioner and I love it. Summer will be here soon, and I’ll be encased in my air-conditioned house soon enough. So for now, I will steal every cool moment I can. First sip of my warm green tea in the now cool living room of that back door being open is everything. I am not thinking any of the negatives-only the beauty of the cold.
I want you to notice that I did not concentrate on all the entails of this disease, I am not even giving it a voice. All my efforts go to the intentional thought of the simple free easy things that I’ve been given to enjoy. I do not have MS during these moments, I have cooler air, I have singing birds, and I have great rest. The last words I want to say is, I HAVE.