Like dolphins I jump waves, but mine are waves of pain. Medical treatments keep the waves subdued, but Rheumatoid Arthritis and Fibromyalgia and aging are robbing me of both energy and mobility. I have enough excuses to watch TV all day—except I have a Type A personality. Instead of a full-time couch potato, I could become a wheelchair blogger.
Can you see me writing—
Today is dreary. Rain is falling. I soaked my knees in pain patches last night. My sleep was interrupted by a thunderstorm and twice by cats licking my fingers. I forgot to fill the kibble bowl.
No fibro-freak can cope with the loss of sleep. I don’t expect to get much done today?Do you see me swimming in the Sea of Depression from those words?
But I’m sitting in the café at Barnes and Noble’s writing this piece. I'm wondering if I may have made my Bridge over Troubled Waters already. It is not a passageway. It is bridge where Captain Kirk might have stood, where I can steer my small ship across seas of space guided by suns and moons and the planet Earth even though I’m usually asleep when the stars are out.
My post for today might be—
Ghosts were about this morning. I watched them walk through a gray cloud. Should I take my camera with me to photograph those ghosts—skeletal trees wearing tiny leaf buds, light poles fading into silhouettes, an SUV disappearing into a time-warp. Fog is a natural filter.Can you see me navigating my ship?
I'm observing the world along the coasts and beaches of the Sea of Depression. My observations sometimes lead to words and at other times to pixels. Like a ship’s pilot, I try to avoid colliding with a reef or iceberg or another ship. While my mind is focused outside myself, I’m unaware of aches and pains, of a future when I can’t control a pen or press a shutter button or walk through a woods in springtime.
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| Vervet Monkey, a Master of Mischief Tanzania, 2014, by Jeter Skeet |
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