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.

Thud!

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?

xxoo

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