Walk with me awhile……

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Please walk with me….

“We learn something from everyone who passes through our lives. Some lessons are painful, some are painless…but all are priceless.” – Anon E. Moss

There is the familiar story about not knowing contentment in life that has birthed the age old idiom, ‘the grass on the other side always looks greener’ and sometimes we actually and with real intent blur the lines differentiating reality and our fantasies. However life with inevitability brings us around, sometimes dragging us on our butts to acknowledge that there is more to life than positive talk, reciting mantras or forwarding stuff that has a silly condition at the end. Yes, we are saddled with responsibilities every day that we arise but when we align the fact that our being alive today is simply a reaffirmation of the truth that God is not yet through with us then we can truly be grateful for the many blessings we receive (and oft take for granted) or else why are we still here? To live is Christ, to die is gain is a very weighty statement but that is simply truth in its plainest form.

A couple of days ago, I actually felt that I had touched the gold paved cobblestones of heaven because unfortunately the past few days have not just been torrid but have been progressively chronicling a decline in my health. Six months ago, I had a bad fall and sustained significant injuries to my right shoulder (rotator cuff) and just having to deal with myoclonus each day is a full-time career on its own, adding a torn rotator cuff was just adding more to an already overflowing bowl. With the same doggedness that is characteristic with faith, I continue; choosing every day to be thankful for something at the very least. Against what I term my fundamental values, a friend set up a GoFundme campaign because in his words, sometimes we just have to let go and let ‘friends’ and others help. After the dismal campaign ran for a month or two, he had to shut it down as requested by me because we do not decide the paths or channels from where our relief will come from. It is and will always be about His timing – He does make all things beautiful in HIS TIME!

Being the proud father of an amazing daughter, whose life all on its own is simply a testament to God’s sovereignty, I am more than just a soccer dad. Despite the frailties of this body, I tend to want to push the envelope just a tad more. Well, the fall was a result of attempting to push the envelope and even though she bosses and fusses over me, I still know that there are a couple of things I can still do because our children are the best gifts that Heaven has in its store and so I am never going to let a white flag hang from my doorway with regards to issues pertaining to Heaven’s precious gifts. Again, I am a firm advocate of taking care of your body but sometimes it is easier said or written and most times it just goes awry however it is either of two options – Let go entirely and Let God or delude yourself into believing that you have when you truly haven’t.

Well I am still a work-in-progress and tenacity still means loads to me, but ironically where that tenacity is applied also matters. Against plain common sense, a couple of days ago, I dropped my cane in a bid to help her during her training and that was like a culmination of everything bad – the lack of sleep, the rigors of just being fairly active for consecutive days et al. During the night, I was seized with the most severe episode of dystonia – tremors so intense that the king-sized bed was literally absorbing and trying unsuccessfully to contain all that energy, pain so intense that curling into a fetal position did nothing to help, tears of utter helplessness cascading down my cheeks as I prayed believing it was my last along with that scary feeling that I tend to describe as my brain over-heating because as always it was doing the processing and still firing away on all cylinders. I remember telling myself that this was what the end feels like….

….definitely one of the worst storms but from force of habit, I clung to every promise that applies to me – knuckles whitened from clutching hard, I was able to ride out the storm not by my own strength (that really does not mean so much to me anymore) but because my story is yet to be concluded. In retrospect and as I continue the long and difficult task of recuperating, I bear no angst. No hard feelings for those who in their ivory castles feel comfortable and secure. No hard feelings for those who believe that it is a fair trade to copy and paste a prayer as against doing something more tangible. No hard feelings for those whose ignorance make them all the more ludicrous, no feelings of resentment directed to the world because I know that what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger. And even though the furnace be stoked more than usual, I choose to be hurled without a fight into the fires confident that God’s got me; acknowledging that His ways differ from mine and so I know that salvation will come.

Salvation not by my own understanding or standard, but rather salvation as dictated by Him with the end result being that I will emerge at the other end so much better than before the journey through the fires. And whilst the waves billow high and angry, and this vessel gets more battered, I choose to make each moment count. Regardless of the darkness that creeps like a smothering garment blocking out the stars of the night, I know that there is still going to be light once this night is over. And so I hold on, not because of the medication that miraculously never completely runs out (even when the funds do) or the fact that there will always be help raised up on my behalf, but rather because I know that there is that one life that will draw a second wind to continue pressing on just by reading my story. There is that one life that was just about to succumb to the darkness and let the little light be snuffed out, that is why I hold on. For every point I get to on my journey, I learn some more and apply that faith that recognizes not only that He exists but that He is also with me through it all. He is more than the worst of storms and withersoever He leads, I submit.

For as long as this breath courses through my lungs, I choose to be a pineapple, standing tall, wearing a crown and being sweet on the inside. Remember that you cannot start the next chapter of your life if you keep re-reading the last one.

פרידה עד שנפגשנו שוב בתזמון שלו, וייתכן שאהבתו של אלוהים להיות אמיתית לך!

Adios!

The reverberation of silence…..

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Silence!

“Be (known as) a person of persistence and endurance. One person with persistence, commitment and endurance will accomplish more than a thousand people with interest alone.” – J. Mason

When and where we are birthed is not a decision that provides room for our opinions to weigh in. We emerge, most times, angry at the doctor or nurse who swatted our bum while we also vociferously complain at the change in our residing address. That really does nothing to the process of childbirth and/or family building, we eventually get to accept (some of us pretty early and others pretty late) that there are things/events we can change and others that would be a manifestation of sheer naivety and wrongful application of energy were we to attempt changing them. That’s where serenity comes to play, giving us peace to go through those events we have no control over however wisdom is a prerequisite to enable us tell the difference.

I recall my first solo Christian outreach as a University graduate some 16years ago and was it an eye opener indeed. Not only did it satisfy my urge to go to new places but it also made me realize that entitlement is a unique word and not the very best to use in our common, everyday conversations. There I was, in a little village populated by about 100 families who had chosen to question the predominant religion. No schools, no water, no electricity but all around them these same ‘necessities’ were available to others, a reward for their conformity and reliable apprehension at rocking the boat. I juggled having summer classes, learning the language, helping on farms and talking about intangible treasures that are stoutly backed by infallible and unbreakable promises. Talking about streets of gold to someone who had never seen an asphalt road is not just a gigantic stretch in imagination but it also kindles hope, strength of purpose and incomprehensible peace.

Trust is something that is inevitable to life. From the moment you open your eyes to a new day to the moment you shut them at the end is a journey of faith. You unknowingly believe that you will live, you believe the atmosphere can sustain your respiratory system, you believe that your feet will hold you up……you believe without an iota of doubt because that’s what science says. Who made science? There is always a source, an origin if we choose to apply ourselves to searching however there will always be the plethora of unanswered questions that make life more of a mystery than just a monotonous exercise. And those unanswered questions, we believe will be answered someday. That in a nutshell was one of the minor reasons that made me enjoy my stay and plan another visit the next summer.

On the faces of children and adults, I could see contentment and unbridled joy because they chose not to dwell on their lack (they were not anticipating a turn around so soon or the coming of a messiah) but rather focus on The One who holds all of life in His hands. They could relate with that! They could relate with the fact that life in itself is a season, and just like every agricultural community, they understood seasons – every season begins and ends someday. From the starry eyed kids in their worn-out clothing to the fierce gleam of defiance in the eyes of adults, I learned that what we need the most in life is companions that are eager and willing to walk some way with us as we journey through life. And not just any company but the distinct few who walk in agreement with us, come rain or scorching heat. I learned the beauty of silence, not the silence of indifference and nonchalance, but the silence that brings the realization of our existence as humans devoid of all the frenzy of the big cities and wholly dependent on Our Creator.

Like Spinoza says, “no matter how thin a slice is, there will always be two sides.” We may choose to butter both sides and deal with ensuring we don’t get dirt on our faces and clothing or we may choose to be thankful for that slice regardless of the availability of butter or not. I recalled this life changing experience because once again, I’m embarking on something completely foreign to me as I grapple with dystonia. An entirely unprecedented chain of events for those who know me just a bit. However with a life as unique as mine, you develop the knack of ignoring the bumps (& associated pain) from the thrown lemons and focus on making some lemonade. It’s not just trying to survive (a puny task I dare to opine), it is instead recognizing the circumstance and adapting to ensure your purpose is not derailed. The purpose always counts, and what we put in today and tomorrow will always determine if we are striving for excellence or just pretending to enjoy (while cringing internally in absolute terror) the waters as we are hurled along in no direction by the strong currents of life.

…..and you are???

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends” – MLK Jr. No life can be lived in isolation and although we do not get to pick our families but we do get to pick our friends, and yet again we believe that most of them will be there for the long haul despite the occasional squabbles. The journey we all embark on will have its fair share of storms, and sometimes during those storms, what we crave the most from our friends is not just a deluge of words alone but sometimes that walm hand that is quietly slipped into your hand, reassuring you that you are not alone. So many times, we are so unsettled by the silence that we fail to see and appreciate how consistent and little our true friends are. Their actions are not preceded by a definitely not-so eloquent speech or a forwarded ‘do not break the chain’ prayer (insincere and bothersome). True friends are found in the silence.

However there will be those times when ego has even gone to ground (for fear of identifing with you) and your outstretched hand is completely ignored. It is in those times that silence, if permitted, becomes a complete set of percussion instruments all wailing in discordance. That is when silence becomes a banshee whose voice threatens your peace of mind. It is that silence that cuts the most deeply, leaving a wound that may seemingly never heal. And still, even as the silence reverberates all around you, there is still a choice to be made – give into the insanity that the cruel, intentional silence of friends offer or find that quiet place deep in the recesses of your mind where no hand can touch. Retreat there to ponder on the fact that life is a process and it is the approval and relationship of God that counts the most. On the many occasions when friends align with the enemy through their silence and it becomes nigh impossible to differentiate friend from foe, then you are forced to remind yourself that no man has a plan that makes total provision for you, it is then you just must find Him.

I learned from that first experience, even in the silence, beauty can still exist. When the words from the lips of companions are like the falling of brown leaves, lifeless, insincere and meaningless. When their gestures threaten to extinguish the sliver of light you have because their intent is not to act but to be seen as being active. It is in times like these that I cling fervently to the promises of a good God who is not man that He would dare cast shadow on His Word. I remember that it is not the seeming abundance (just provocatively beyond your grasp) around you that counts but the ability to bask in what you have been blessed with; hope, purpose and a destination, that is what counts when the silence descends on you.

Remember, We need to find God, and He cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature – trees, flowers, grass- grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence… We need silence to be able to touch souls.” – Mother Teresa

עד ניפגש שוב, תן אהבה שלו למלא ולשמור אותך!

Adios!

Out on a limb….

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Out on a limb

Every action is preceded by a desire, and without mincing words or trying to fancy paint it, I really wish I could be more determined to more regularly writing. However, there is the inevitable issue of life and its unpredictability, and just having to navigate each day is a victory all by itself. It is another Wednesday; my own personal holiday and suffice me to say that while it is just another day in a week of days, it holds special value to me and along with experiences from the past, I chose long ago to make Wednesday my special day. From the viewpoint of someone who has worked in four continents, I have since realized that acknowledging that our bodies need rest is not a thing of shame because on the flip side, when we fail to acknowledge that, the long mounds of broken bodies littered along the road as we journey through life will definitely remind us that we just might end up as another broken body if we do not apply wisdom and caution.

One of my daily slogans is ‘life is all about moments and it is either we are bold enough to seize them (if we can but recognize them) or we spend the rest of our lives ruing those missed moments.’ Last week, I was at the hospital again for my bi-annual routine check-up and this is really always a big deal because I don’t like hospitals or crowded places at such (it is a proven trigger for a Dystonic episode). Now what makes this particular visit special was that it was to have taken place in the first quarter of the year but when you are confronted by bills of all shapes and sizes, the associated cost of just living a life especially one like mine that is rife with special needs, you need to be very careful about what you bite and chew. In line with the uniqueness of this visit, whenever the reminder popped up on my calendar, it was almost natural to cancel and reschedule whilst believing that the funds for yet another expense would be made available as promised by God. And so, I kept on rescheduling, even when I knew from the warning signs of my body that this was not an event that should be placed in the category of ‘to be done during leisure’. And then there is that niggling voice that keeps on nagging you about the growing changes associated with the journey of one battling dystonia, that I sort of had to belatedly admit to myself that faith is not an easy activity. In the words borrowed from my devotional, it is going out on a limb.

Oh the joy of childhood, when there were no bills to pay, no accounts to balance, no praying for the kids, nigh on zero responsibility save for that of ensuring you came home with an academic result. Not just any result but one that would like a grand jury, justify to my parents that the legacy of good education was properly being bequeathed to me and that I also properly understood that even though as my parents, they were obligated to invest in me but I also had to hold up my own part of the bargain. And so in the summer holidays, during those long trips to my (actually paternally influenced) hometown, there was always that giddy headiness of being free to run around more (just a bit more than was ordinarily allowed). Not that I was allowed to run riot, far from my imagination anyway, but there was just that teeny weeny bit of slack with regards to the daily structured regimen of waking up early, diving straight (still half asleep) into family devotion and then off to the races; daily chores, prepping for school, school itself (and the added but necessary skill of avoiding being bullied by senior students), home (lunch, siesta and homework), preparing the family meal (I was responsible for Wednesdays and Saturdays), more study, night devotion and bedtime (with the regular foray at night into the sitting room to watch the late night movie while everybody was asleep). Childhood was fun and just adds credence to the truth that we should be childlike in our walk with God, not childish but child-like.

Today, I still find it amazing that I have never broken a bone (or maybe I do not remember breaking one) because I still remember how swanky it looked with an arm in a sling or a limb immobilized within a cast. Why the amazement? I was quite the plucky adventurous kid with a daring attitude that almost bordered on insanity – leaping off , balconies and buses just for the fun of it, accepting the dare to roll under dump trucks as they were passing and for my grand finale; almost burning down my high school science laboratory and myself because I was surrounded by all types of acid reagents, no teacher and the curiosity that has killed many cats (after-all Sir Newton, Robert Hooke, Henry Le Chatelier, K.F Braun allowed that curiosity to drive them into becoming science legends). Mine was a childhood that was far from being uneventful, but my dabbling into my memory cauldron is specific: remembering how beautiful life was when the trees bloomed with fruits. I remember learning how to scurry up a tree, adrenaline dousing the pain of the grazes, scratches and the occasional wasp bite just to get out on that limb in order to reach and retrieve the fat juicy mango, guava or Indian almond. The objective was the fruit at the end of that tree limb that was somehow so hidden that attempting to pluck it by hurling stones, twigs et al was an exercise in futility, and regardless of how tiny the limb looked, getting the fruit was all that mattered at that moment in time. Oh, I remember how many times the limb snapped because of my added weight but the stars that swung around in my head after the fall was nothing compared to the fruit in my hand. That was what childhood encompassed; learning how to be street savvy, learning what my interests and dislikes were, learning that each of us is as distinct as the stars in the sky and learning that loyalty, blind trust in God, faith that good will always trounce evil and relationships were values that each person needed to learn in preparation for the life ahead.

Faith is....Doing!

And so today, when it seems as though my responses to life’s challenges are extraordinary, it is just an embellishment of the truth that the best laid plans are those laid by God. I am simply an ordinary bloke in the hands of an extraordinary God, with each day another opportunity to just trust God and get out on that limb. As I got myself ready for my neurologist, I asked (with bated breath) Amanda at the front desk/window, “how much would this consult cost because at the moment, I do not have any insurance?” Her response was matter of factly delivered without even looking up and since the option of paying by check was available, I opted for that, believing that before they cashed the check, I would have the funds ready. I have always maintained that I believe that I’ve got the best neurologist in the world and so as the consult went on, every new change discussed and medication reviewed, I just voiced out how difficult it was getting any form of meaningful medical assistance especially for people living with rare conditions. That was immediately acquiesced by her and then she asked how much I was charged, now that right there is a rarity because most doctors are completely unaware of the fine details of billing. In response to my answer, she said she would go see what could be done because naturally she always wants to know what activities (especially in terms of income)I am engaged in with respect to the symptoms associated with the horrendous fiend known as dystonia. Suffice me to say that as I exited the consulting room and went to get the next appointment date, the bill had been reduced by 45%!!!

Now it is not all about me, however I can only share my own experiences and that moment (the entire consult) was literally me going out on a limb not because I knew I could wheedle some discount but because I am reassured each day that as I long as I remember that the battle’s victory is not defined by the parameters of strength and might, nor is the the race victory defined by the swiftness of feet then I know that His mercies and provisions are there for the asking. Most assuredly, I say that being logical is one of my strengths but when it comes to just waking up each day and living life, I refuse to allow myself be restrained by the limits of logic. As long as I see a need, I am convinced beyond all doubts that there is something I can do; it is not always about the material things you can give rather it is those intangible things that you give when the material is lacking that make the most meaning. Just having the time to listen to someone else going through a storm might just be what is needed to get the bilge pumps turned on and subsequently prevent his vessel from going under. Most times, we fail to admit that we don’t always know the answers, heck we do not even know what the next moment holds for anybody but we can acknowledge that in the effort lies victory and sometimes that victory is right at the end of that limb. All we need do is step out on that limb! You can drive yourself crazy by applying all known theories, calculating the relationship between our body weight (oh remember that also involves getting a scale etc) and the physical traits of the branch but until we stop and put aside the white board, the text books, the calculators, we are just just going to remain at one end engaged in pointless reasoning and failing to realize that we are not even moving. And if we are not moving then how can our steps be guided? If our steps are not guided, then how do we know that we are not just wandering around in tiny circles? Seeing the same things every day and not even aware they are the same things because we are so preoccupied with attempting to solve things using our puny brain and brawn.

Today is another new day, another rare opportunity to make our lives count for something. Staying all swaddled up in the ‘security’ of our comfort zones is not it because remember that the rain falls on both the good and the bad so who says that where you are today and the accompanying luxuries are yours to keep forever? It never ceases to amaze me when I am confronted by ‘experts’ with their fail-safe solutions prattling non-stop and inadvertently gloating also. The neurosurgeon says that Deep Brain Stimulation (DBS) is the answer to dystonia and my follow-up question is have you undergone the procedure? Do you have dystonia? Hold on for just a second and listen because wisdom is not exclusively categorized by how old you are. We do not create, neither do we hold the plans and answers but what we have are a pair of hands and a pair of ears and my self recommendation each day that I am blessed to see is that I ensure that I use what I have been blessed with to bless just one other person. Remember that it is impossible to change the world we live in at once but we can start that change by beginning with ourselves and letting others see that change because whether you choose to admit or not, someone is watching you. Be less of a talker and more of a doer because doers evoke change and everyone needs some respite from a world that has suddenly been besieged by a horde of talkers who have completed murdered their ability to listen. Kindly stop!….and just get out on that limb, that is the very least you owe yourself.

עד ניפגש שוב, תן את היופי של ארשת פניו לזרוח עלינו!

Adios!

Forging the link……

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Forging the link

Forging the link

I somewhat, till this day, see myself as a hands-on type of bloke although going by prevalent circumstances, that phrase by itself seems untenable. The truth is that while design and handcraft has always appealed to me, I have also allowed the process of building things from scratch influence my daily actions. Growing up, my parents insisted that in addition to the traditional education, you had to learn a skill and that period of internship usually occurred between the end of high school and the beginning of college. I still hear the words. “God might favour you and send you to a strange environment and while others are clinging fiercely to the stereotyped job ladder; many bruised, bloodied and with dreams dashed – you can take a step back when you don’t land that dream job and begin doing something on your own.” Maybe that, to a very large extent has influenced my mindset when it comes to education and career.

For me, when the break came and it was time to ‘go learn a craft’, I opted for carpentry and photography. Carpentry, because the artisan who roofed my father’s city house was a very smart fellow, skilled in his work and despite having a aspeech impediment, was not fazed at all having a conversation with me. My choice of craftsmanship was instantly made when I found out Zippamore was in his third year at college and was actually self-sponsored, and the acquisition of that snippet of information pretty much killed the idea that some jobs are meant for some class of people. Yes, my parents ensured that there were no airs about us, we might not have been wealthy but we were not poor either. Both my parents were educated and held down white collar jobs and so it would have been quite easy to develop an air of privilege based solely on that, but I can tell you that they neither allowed or tolerated any of that foolishness. We earned what we got and learned that unto each person, a purpose lies, a path beckons and a destination awaits. I still remember the very first day I walked into the carpenter’s workshop and found the other world where brawn was almost as equal as brains, where I learned the necessity of taking care of yourself after being bloodied once or twice. Oh, it was an eye opener indeed.

Unfortunately, there were not many blacksmiths that we knew of but besides carpentry, blacksmithing had always appealed to me because I really loved working with metal. Throw in the classic Robert Louis Stevenson ‘Treasure Island’ into the mix that was my life then, and a blade, a spool of cotton and a match book became constant companions of mine. Nearly four decades after, my fascination with metals and their hidden potential still remains and now I am also an avid watcher of History Channel’s ‘Forged by fire’. The importance of design was also conveyed to me then because without a design to keep you on track, many days will be spent wandering around in circles. So it is truly impressive seeing how an otherwise innocuous piece of junk metal, steel scrap can be forged into a beautiful tool…..but there is a process before that junk becomes that beauty. Three essential features of any process; the furnace, the hammer and the anvil. You do not go interning at an active blacksmith’s forge dressed in duck whites because you sure are not going to remain that way within the first hour. Copious amounts of perspiration, lots of heavy lifting and wielding are inevitable elements as you try to draw out that steel into lengths and patterns that meet the specification of your design.

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It is quite appropriate for life and its many events to be likened to a couple of days in the smithie’s. It is a process and if the steel could talk, I know for sure that sound mufflers (not just the ordinary ones) would be a critical tool because the screams of refusal from the steel would most definitely deafen you. But it doesn’t protest as it is thrust into the forge where it is left until it is almost white hot and only then can it be taken out and pounded by the hammer (pneumatic ones now) on the anvil till it has a rough semblance to the design that you had in mind. One lesson that I learned at an early age is that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link, it does not matter how long or heavy the chain is, its fate is down to that weakest link. At the shipyards, those huge anchors that keep the ship in place are usually at the end of a long chain and more often, a key part of a ship mate’s daily role is to inspect that anchor and chain to ensure that the each link on that massive chain is devoid of cracks, fracture or any form of impediment because when that order “heave to” is bellowed out and the anchor is released, just that one weak link could determine the safety of the vessel and the lives on board.

We are in the summer and each day is a struggle for me because I find myself totally exhausted with just the least amount of work done. Heat ironically is one of the triggers for the primary generalised dystonia and myoclonus that I have and so I would trade Alaska or Melbourne for a proposed vacation in a heartbeat. However I know that you cannot go through life having just one season and so I try to stay as hydrated as possible, take as many showers I can, forego the layered clothing and still cope with a body that is hurting in almost every joint at each day’s end. At the onset of this unique journey that I am presently on, I learned painfully that there are smarter ways of getting a task done than just applying sheer muscle. Despite the number of comments I receive about how ‘toned’ I still am, it amuses me because I really wish I could for just one day, instruct my brain to let my nerves and muscles be. The tremors are physically exerting and just having a severe dystonic bout lasting more than an hour is pretty scary to even imagine but life is a process.

These days, I have taken an entirely different approach, I choose to be as welcoming as I can be especially on social media because if only individuals could read on the face what each person is going through, I am optimistic that our world will change for the better. Being a member of so many support groups has and is still an honour to me, I have encountered so many people from all over the world with medical conditions like mine and just being a member of such groups continues to drive home each day, the fact that a chain is only as strong as its weakest link. Each day, somebody somewhere is having a really torrid time and being strong enough to utter these three words “I need help/prayers” is actually a testament to the intrinsic strength that defies human comprehension. Having a private conversation with someone who’s almost at their tether’s end; encouraging them on, reminding them of the fact that to every beginning, there is an inevitable end is so gratifying because it takes my mind off of my own struggles and lend an ear or a shoulder to someone else.

Entirely disregarding the picture that we may present, like two totally inebriated chaps exiting the pub in the wee hours of a new day, we prop each other up and stagger on, choosing to ignore the ignorant yet scathing looks and comments, we acknowledge that we are a chain and if one of us goes down, then we all go down. It does not matter if the ache in my neck is killing me, or I can barely get out of bed, when someone cries out for help, I choose to be there because as long as my vocal chords or fingers don’t tap out on me, there is something I can do because I am a link in that chain. As we constantly encounter life’s events, I choose to see this dystonia as the forge and regardless of how long I spend in it, I am confident that the finished product would be worth the pain and agony. The longer I spend in the forge, the better and stronger I will emerge and as the hammer and the anvil painfully stretch me out, I choose to remember that there is a design to my life. A design that was not drawn by me but one that in due time, show off every strength, facet, allure and usefulness that had hitherto been buried within.

God’s design is not flawed, that I tell myself each day and when the heat of the furnace threatens to becloud my senses or the pounding of the hammer seems like it is going to irreparably break me, I find comfort in these whispered words; “I am being strengthened and purified and designed. I cannot rely on my own strength because I truly do not know my own strength. I am but a link in this chain and I refuse to be the weakest link!’

Remember that if God gave His very best for us when we least deserved it, He has by design placed us as a link in a chain of lives and therefore nothing is good enough to hold us back from giving. We are all distinct and unique signature pieces of God’s superb craftsmanship. There is no solace in the darkness, no display of strength in pretention, no truth in a cunningly crafted veneer of falsehood because at the very end, you have nothing but a life that has been lived either by the choice of never to be the weakest link or a life that like the will o’ wisp will be forgotten once it has barely even begun. There is no misery in sincerity, no victory in glorying affliction, no weakness in vulnerability however at our life’s end, all but nought will be laid bare and even as the anchor buries itself in the sand, our chain of lives will either stand in testament to a purposeful life or shear apart in dismay.

עד שנפגשנו שוב, אולי התענוגות שלו להיות העונג שלך לעשות

Adios!

Just do right….

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When you get, you give. When you learn, you teach!” – Annie Henderson

These simple words resonate through my entire being as I awakened to a new month, albeit a new day and I reminded myself that with each new day comes hope, help and loads of opportunities. Have you ever wondered why at certain times in your life, the things that usually go unnoticed suddenly assume an amazing degree of clarity? Or ever wondered what the entire purpose of being alive is? Or ever considered that niggling voice within you that insists you do what really do not feel like doing at certain moments? I believe that within each and every walking human, there is a purpose for being alive and whenever doubt assails you, be sure that you have acknowledged that purpose and are walking conscientiously by it. Hmmm! Pretty intense but that is the only way to be sure that your life counts for something.

It takes me 374 seconds to walk to the closest mail box and back, and yesterday just as I was struggling with getting my disobedient fingers to reach for my keys, I had the profound privilege of watching one of the most common wildlife events. I observed an orb-weaver spider diligently going about its interesting and intricate task of spinning its web. For many of us, it is an unknown fact that this seemingly simple task of spinning webs is not just a signature of most spiders but is an energy tasking one, usually requiring loads of protein. I really do not like spiders or crawly things but the beauty of the effort that went into the normal chore of most spiders was what interested me. And it made me realise that just like that spider, we all have been designed to excel in one thing and that is simply just doing right.

“I suppose there’s no good answer to that, Ryan. I wish there was. But if you take the wrong, path, something deep inside you will feel twisted. There are times when that will be the only way to know the right from the wrong.” – Inara Scott

Whenever I do get out, after loads of rest because of the energy sapping tremors associated with myoclonus, I am confronted with a myriad of responses from individuals – ranging from those who are freaked out and are frightened that it might be contagious to those who think it is a thing of amusement, barely concealing their smirks. Those who like Rose, have an understanding of the unique disorders of the human body and are eager to know more, and there are those who are unable to appreciate the fact that this is not something one would choose even in a totally inebriated state. There are those who flaunt the present wellness of their bodies and those who are unknowingly destroying themselves. However, the unifying factor amongst all these categories of humans is that we are all humans and so like Maya Angelou, I teach myself to recite this phrase ‘I am human and therefore nothing human should be alien to me’, that way I can deal with the barely concealed acts of insensitivity when I do encounter them.

I have actually embraced the Redcord therapy sessions (will put up pictures someday) because it is something new and even as Igor reiterates ‘you are a unique patient with a unique challenge’, I brace myself to continue to strive to do the one thing that comes easiest to a human, regardless of skin colour,  origins,  idiosyncrasies, or denials  – just doing right, (of-course in the effort lies victory). Whether we choose to acknowledge it or not, we have all been designed to do right and although we all daily wage battles within ourselves to stray from that divinely assigned task, that is our task – to just do right and regardless of how much pain I am in or how discomfited I may be – I want to do right, I choose to do right. It is so difficult wearing my own shoes and heck, some days just getting out of bed is so herculean but I have and am committed to that task because that is how I can improve myself. It is only when we acknowledge that we get, that the need to give can be properly birthed. I am given daily and so I choose to do right by giving as much as I get, being careful to sieve out the anguish of being ‘unique’ and give of the good I receive daily.

“If you are at a point in your life where you are not sure what you need to do, which path to take, or whether you are doing the right thing. That is probably because your inner being is wanting you to delve deep within yourself and find what you truly want from your life, Your spirit is trying to guide you towards your life’s path. Please take a moment to think what you really want to do that you haven’t done so far, and what would make you happy. That’s probably the answer to your confusion. All your answers are within yourself’ – A. E. Moss 

Now I am at a point in my life where I am sure of what I need to do because I know that happiness is a choice you have to make and for me, despite the loneliness of my sojourn or the looming clouds above, I am not giving in. I will continue to do right even if it means I get to stand alone. I will persist in doing right even when the stuttering wants to obfuscate the very words I want to say. I will persist in doing right even when it makes me different because I know that is what I was made to do and as each day draws to a close and I sit in watch as the new day dawns because I am unable to sleep, I know that I am further strengthened by the very One who is my designer and my Companion. When I realise with every passing moment that my life is but a journey, then I know that as I plod along, I can only but leave behind me legacies by the very actions of my hands and not so much by the words of my mouth. I can only do right by doing it, not saying it and pray someday that just one person will catch the vision and walk with it. That I dare to say is a life fulfilled.

What we can do, we must do: we must use what we are given, and we must use it the best we can, however much or little help we have for the task. What you have been given is a hard thing–a very hard thing… But my darling, what if there were no one who could do the difficult things?”  – Robin McKinley

It is indeed a new month and I always say it is better late than never. You can never go wrong when you simply just do right and so as I enthusiastically embrace the month with hope and determination, I know that within me lies the strength to not just triumph over this disorder but to also do right. As each of us, in his/her own little place begin to just do right, what an overwhelming tide of events we can cause to pervade our broken world. All it takes is to simply acknowledge that with the dawning of each new day, just like we welcome the breeze on our faces and bask in the warmth of the sun, so also we must acknowledge the good we receive and freely give just as we receive. Just do right, persist in it and behold the awesomeness of fulfilling your purpose daily.

Remember what a miserable tale ours would be if we choose to just exist rather than live purposefully. Just do right!

lמסתדר טוב עד שניפגש שוב בזמן שלו

Adios!