A few weeks ago, you may have heard my latest motto: "without health you have nothing." You may have even agreed with me. For I am the ultimate first-hand posterchild for such a phrase. Once my health begins to deteriorate (only months after regaining it), I am (once again) enlisted into an army of dispair, waiting patiently for its return while surrendering to the unease of time in a bed-bound state.
BUT this is a new time. It is always a new time. Moments pass by and can never be relived or even imagined to the same extent. My recent setback brought me straight back to moments of my sickness last year, ones never to be compared. I spent awhile feeling as though I was retracing those torrid steps, one pace at a time, until I realized that it was only me who had made the claim of sameness.
This experience, just like every one before, is new. And in the struggle to not compare my past health with my current health, I have come to realize something more important than the experience itself: my life is so much more than the pieces that make up my day.
I am wrong; without health I still have so much.
I have friends and smiles and curiosity and juicy apples and daydreams and sunshine and hugs and late-night advice and baby giggles and hummingbirds and so much more that I have let go to the wayside by giving discontent its given name.
But no more. My health is important, that is the truth; however, my life is far more complex and enduring and cannot all be stopped because of this one important aspect.
My life will not be over as long as I am around to live it.
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