Another one bites the dust…*

Don’t demand or expect that events happen as you would wish them to. Accept events as they actually happen. That way peace is possible. Epictetus

What’s up with that?

I would say that I have been very accepting – and I would be wrong.

A recent epiphany didn’t feel like aha moment, it felt like a jarring fall to the ground. Like when you land on your butt and it reverberates up your spine and jars your teeth.

I got very emotional about a passing remark my husband made on the way to water aerobics. My reaction was out of sync with his words. I couldn’t really explain my tears. I would have normally called it a stroke-related meltdown. And perhaps that’s true. But it was representative of more than that.

Oh, I have accepted that I have had a stroke – and with the ability of my type seven personality to look at the bright side, ! sail along pretty well. The only time I have stormy weather is when someone hits me with reality. Specifically, a reality not congruent with my idea of who I am and who I should be. Truthfully, I hate being perceived as limited.


Exercise leaves plenty of time for thinking. In fact, the movement seems to force unbidden thoughts. As I was mentally pillorying my husband for his lack of acceptance of me, the truth arose. I do not accept myself.

I have said since the beginning that I am the same person. I just can’t do the same things. Well, I realize that’s true in a sense. Yes, my essence is the still same. But my physical abilities? Not so much! My ego is bruised and battered by the failure of by body to do what I want and expect of it. Duh!

The question is – why do i insist on illusion?

It’s interesting. I am happy with my life on many levels. So I walked slowly with a cane. And my right hand is suffering from my lack of interest and perfecting it’s skills. But I have a good life. I am loved. I love. I live in good surroundings – from the small circle of my home to the wide circle of my valley.  And I have the capacity and the resources to travel outside that circle to see family.

But that thought won’t go away. I don’t accept myself. When I leave the essence of myself and visit how I see myself, I am still struggling over my limitations. Even writing that makes me feel somewhat of a failure. How can I complain? I have so much. My voice, my thoughts, and my movement.

Stay tuned dear readers… will I be able to accept my body? Or do I spend this precious life in intermittent tears of frustration?


*Never fear, I have enough illusions to keep going.


  1. It seems to me that by accepting your embodied self you are becoming for all of us who watch you here, and listen to your words, a mentor in that very process. You become a mirror. And for that I thank you–along with so much else for which I thank you.


  2. Your ability to recognize your limitations intellectually, but not emotionally strikes a chord with me. Maybe my perceptions of myself are not how I want others to perceive me.


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