Often it is around the twists and curves,
beneath the gnarled surface,
within the hollow spaces,
between the arch of bending and the act of turning,
that life reminds us to wake up
and discover beauty in unexpected places.
I am not old in earth years, and I have a great deal of life flowing through me, but today I feel ancient. Just walking for five minutes through the downstairs of my house left me bent, struggling to speak clearly, and utterly exhausted. This is such a strange disease. Everyone tells me "Be patient", "You'll go into remission soon", "The nerves need time to heal", "I know so and so, who has MS, and she's doing really well".
And still I am waiting, hoping, praying that I will be like "so and so".
And yet I know deep inside, that if that is not the case for me, I will learn to stay rooted like this tree. I will discover my own beauty in unexpected places.
Tired, twisted, gnarled body on the surface,
the hollow spaces revealing hallowed places...
where soul and love and creative life force swirl and expand in spirals.
I am at the edge of this vast inner wilderness.
Finding peace, in the act of writing these words.