Day 4

For those who know me, it has always been said that I am not much of a cook... which is only partially true. For as long as I can remember, I have lived alone and felt little desire to delve in culinary experiences as a solo act. For years, I have been trying (along with my dear friends) to remedy this illogical thought process and just turn on the silly stove or something. Today I began my quest with a cuisine that is ever so special to my heart and my stomach: Indian food.

Almost by chance I found myself at this wonderful Indian market, appropriately named "India's Market". Stepping foot inside excited my neurotransmitters and ignited my limbic system... I was sent back to a time and place, not too far away, that taught me so much about this life. An overpowering aroma took me straight back to the bustling streets of New Delhi. The faint scent of sewage and body odor chimed almost perfectly with the spices of curry, cardamom, and turmeric. I could have teared up from the swell of memories, and partially the extra hot red chili powder as well.

After purchasing those necessary items to complete my paneer masala recipe, I was well on my way. Paneer is also known as cottage cheese in India, but it is truly nothing like it. With the consistency of something more reminiscent of tofu, paneer is an equally delightful veg option in India. Masala is a variation of spices, usually some combination of onion, garlic, and ginger. This masterpiece was actually quite simple to prepare, considering I had no clue what I was doing.

Almost immediately after combining the onion, garlic, ginger, tomato, cardamom, and other spices, my world smelled authentically Indian. This was a perfect aromatic setting, which could only be topped off with a bindi and a kurta-- I had to dress the part.

With Hindi lyrics from only a sliver of the billions of Bollywood hits playing in the background, I banged my pans, spilled a lot of wheat flour, and burned my hand just a little bit. The whole thing was fantastic!

And the meal you ask? It was equally fantastic. I was pleasantly surprised with the tingle of spice on my lips as I scooped up the cubes of paneer blanketed in its comfort of masala. Dipping my homemade chapati (poor man's bread) into my bowl, my night was complete. I toasted my glass of soy milk to the world, to my world, took a sip and dug right back in.

When all was said and done, my mouth was on fire, my stomach was full, and my kitchen was a mess. I retired my bindi for another night and packaged the leftovers for another day. Cooking with a memory is, by far, the most satisfying kind.

Day 3

Sometimes everyone needs a little encouragement or even a simple statement to put them facing the right direction. This was my inspiration today.

The job of deciding upon a daily task is getting increasingly stressful, I confess rather regrettably. However, this sort of stress comes from a very positive and enlightened place and I thoroughly welcome it. With that said, it took me until about 1pm today to even decide on my chosen experience. Once I did, however, I was off and running!

Armed with sticky notes, a red marker, and the encapsulated knowledge of inspired individuals I began my quest to enable those that crossed my path to be affirmed with strength, love, determination, and motivation. I chose many of my favorite quotes, and many that I have never even heard before and wrote them down-- one quote per sticky note. Vigorously writing, I must have made nearly 2-dozen miniature signs of support.

Throughout my day today, I left my mark--so to speak-- everywhere I journeyed. These quotes now display themselves in grocery store ATM machines, car windows, store walls, the gym bathroom, and various other locales around the Denver Metro area. The task of displaying these quotes almost became a sort of game to me, trying desperately to remain anonymous the whole way through. (This made extremely difficult by the fresh layer of white snow in every parking lot, marking my every tire track.)

Every time I left a sticky note I felt so curious about those soon-to-be-viewers of them. I wondered things about their reactions: If the viewer would smile, if the viewer would be in need of such a message, if the viewer would take it with them, or if the viewer might not even notice at all. These thoughts kept me energized all day long, so, in fact, that I have plans of continuing this project so long as it makes me feel contributory. Who knows, maybe you might see one of those quotes and, with a smile, think, "hey, I needed that" and slide it into your pocket to remember for awhile.

Day 2

Today's task was a little premeditated, in that I actually had to set my alarm to wake up by 6:20. I did this all for the mere glory of seeing the sun rise over the horizon and visually echo itself onto some of the most beautiful land around.

After making the decision to ignore the sleepy slumber thoughts of the tempting "snooze" button, I quickly realized the meaning behind the alarm. My eyes shot open like a shutter does. This was Day 2 of my quest for new experiences! Yes!


Now with a spring to my step I hurriedly got dressed and brushed my teeth. Simultaneously toasting bread and boiling water, my breakfast picnic was well on its way. I was soon out the door.

I made it just in time for that sequence star we call the Sun to peek its little crown over the earth and wish me a very happy morning.

Sipping my tea, taking in every herb and every spice that was so delicately mashed together, I focused on the sun and the sky and the world around me.

The sun has a very specific job that we rely on in every possible way, so much so that we don't even notice that expectation. I sort of feel sorry for the sun, yet admire its gusto. What if Sun wanted to change paths and start orbiting in another galaxy? Does our endless expectations of that sunrise maintain poor Sun's gravitational pull?

Oh! But how fantastic is it at the same time to know that Sun will always be there, every single day. And if Sun can do it-- rise with such grace, power, and awe-- so should I. Perhaps today I learned that I should make dates with the sunrise more often. It's quiet brilliance is so remarkable, that it is such a shame it spends the majority of time unnoticed. And if not rendez-vous with Sun, I will just strive to be more like it.

Day 1

So I suppose I should have started this thing off on a more positive of notes. However, what I accomplished today is something rare and beautiful in it's own way.

Today I decided to write and submit a formal complaint. I have never so much as complained about a hair in my food, let alone go so far as to type out words that will now be permanently recorded and documented until the end of eternity... or until it gets dumped in the trash and/or my computer crashes in a freak anti-gravity moment.

The complaint came from a rather recent event. Coming home from a trip to visit a dear friend, the male version of not-quite-me, I made what I thought would be a quick layover in Phoenix. To spare the details, I missed my flight after being held up in security over a gel-padded cushion that I have been using to transport everywhere since my recent surgeries and setbacks. It acts as the padding that my poor abused buttocks no longer has and is used for surfaces other than my wheelchair (think airplane seat). Full aware that gel is a substance that isn't allowed in large quantities by those TSA bodyguards, the stupid gel pad was never even a concern of mine, nor was it for the other 2 airports I had previously traveled in. However, that wasn't the case at the "friendliest airport in the world". Needless to say, 6 supervisors' rejections and multitudes of tears and lack of appropriate documentation (the scarred butt was apparently not enough) I was sent on my way... quite reluctantly with gel pad in hand, arriving to my gate 30 minutes after my flight had left the runway.

Writing this letter stopped being about my woeful journey virtually after the first sentence. There are far too many people in the world that either don't or cannot be advocates for their own health and bodies, thus leaving them far more helpless and harmed than before. Perhaps I could be someone that would have let the first confiscation of her medical supplies go. Perhaps I could be that same someone to develop another near-fatal wound.

AND that is what I learned from this experience. My body, my life is more meaningful to me than to lie quietly letting others dictate and determine my path. I care about myself far more. Consider this my first try at being a crusader for my physical being.

Project Me

It's been a long time.

I have been trying to figure what path this blog should take, as well as my more immediate self... then I realized that I do far better when I have a project to tackle. Being out of work and in a whirlwind of new thoughts and feelings that only spending months in bed can do has left me with the inspiration of change and renewal. AND that is where I came up with this project:

Starting tomorrow I will begin a quest to experience life more on a daily basis. I will complete the project by experiencing something new each day until the new year. I will test my limits physically and mentally, I will step out of my comfort-zone, I will taste the world with a new tongue, I will try my best.

Every night before I lay my head on my pillow I will use this blog as a source to force myself to reflect on the experience of the day and share what I have done and learned as best as I can. This is Project Me. Wish me good luck...

Happy Birthday

On Saturday night I helped to celebrate the 30th birthday of someone very special; someone that couldn't make it to their own 30th birthday.

The celebration was a concert dedicated to Jeremy Bottoms, held by his older brother, Brady. Brady has been playing and performing music his whole life, and couldn't possibly know another way to express his love and memory of Jeremy. With cupcakes and beer flowing through the crowd, Brady performed on stage from his heart like nothing I have ever seen. Holding back tears so vividly the back of my throat was sore and I was so glad that my surroundings were dark and loud. It was a magical moment, one that I rarely feel nowadays... a moment that brought me back to the night that would change everything forever.

Jeremy was my date and boyfriend that night that our car collided into the night sky. He was less than fortunate, for he didn't make it. I often reflect on that night, the accident, the change... and wonder how exactly my fate twisted so. Beyond my injuries and everyone elses', my mind spends time realizing all of the experiences that Jeremy would never know. That is the hardest part. Knowing that someone's life couldn't endure long enough to discover what it actually meant and felt like to be alive.

And because of that, I will try never to take it for granted. Happy 30th, Jeremy.

Take A Swim

Today I realized that my life would be so much more free if I could do it all underwater.

I am up to sitting in my chair for 2 hours now, and figured that it was as good of a time as any to get back in the pool. I haven't been for 6 months. I have never gone this long without swimming in my life, and that is the truth.

There was a lot of anxiety before getting in: Was my butt going to hold in tact while sitting on the edge of the pool (with a cushion)? Did I remember how to freestyle and backstroke? Was I going to be able to get back into my chair post-workout? Could I remember how to socialize with the rest of the world?

The moment my body touched the water, tears began to well up in my goggles. It had been so long since I had been here. I have been through so much. With each stroke I remembered all of the little events that led up to this. All of the good, all of the not-so-good. Stroke. Breathe. Stroke. Breathe.

Swimming is only one of a billion things that will forever remind me of how beautiful life can be. I actually hope that I cry a little bit every time I take a swim.