How To Fung Shui A Miracle
Wednesday, November 27, 2013 at 7:57AM
Fried Nerves and Jam

I have so much to be grateful for this Thanksgiving, even if the road I'm on is taking its various turns. This journey may never end, but who lives for the end of things? Yesterday, an X-Ray showed the shifting of the leads in my spinal stimulator. If re-programming is not effective, if I do not become the cyborg I am meant to be, I may be looking at another surgery. The shifting of the leads in my epidural space can happen due to a combination of factors. It doesn't matter 'why' to me, but is a reminder that my journey is on-going. Nothing is cut and dried except for my addiction to sweet potato soufflé. So now that I am experiencing what might be a set-back, how do reframe life's challenges into blessings?

"You have to Fung Shui your life." My pain therapist settled further into in her large leather chair. The sofa hugged my hips. Thoughts pranced in the air before my face, taunting my lips to speak. Which ones to select? How did I feel about this analogy that my life has transformed - in her words - from Victorian clutter, to a simplistic modern?

My pain therapist has a way of putting a garbled concept into a clarity so crisp, life crackles when she speaks. I had not thought of my simplified life as a cleansing, but in many ways, it has been the most purifying experience of my life.

Right now, life is about acknowledging my remaining physical limitations. She warned me not to get too excited when I took my first steps, but the optimist in me was deaf to her pleas. Once I launched into my rhythmic prance of plopping legs I could see nothing but my body running down my street, at the same time learning about the damage that has been done to nerves that may not be retrieved.

The question now is, how do I accept new information? The answer is, with a temporary grace. And a gratitude for all that is still right in it all.

I am so grateful for how far I have come. I can live my life outside of bed and Bravo marathons. My pain levels are manageable, except for when Kenya on Real Housewives of Atlanta says she's fabulous. This always offers a setback incompatible with life.

I thank God I can make my way around our home, dragging my left leg with gratitude that I can mobilize on my own at all.

Reality gobbles when I exit the house, and try to mobilize outside of my chair. This is where ego comes in. Because I can get from A to B inside my home, why can't I get from C to Z in the outside world? The simplification of my life is now limited to the walls of my house. How do I Fung Shui the rest of the world?

The answer is, I don't Fung Shui the world outside, so now I must do so in my mind. How do I reframe reality to fit my needs?

I never thought I'd have an ego - about walking. The ability to move my legs again is nothing short of a miracle. By accepting the beauty it holds, and accepting it for all it is - without judgment or wishing it were something more perfect than it is, is the key.

To me, my legs are blessings, even if they don't work as well as before. My foot is a gift even though it won't lift off the floor. I will not complain about the pain that continues in my spine. Because now it is a reminder that I am still alive. When every move I make is slow, at least I remember the smallest details now of every place I go. When I have to use my wheelchair outside in the world, it will be a chance to be on my own and not live like a little girl. I will tell my ego it's not the time, with a second glance from passers-by. A miracle can be a test from above to see if you are still left wanting more. So this Thanksgiving I have made the choice to view my life as more meaningful than before. Because it is. In all its crackling glory, life is more clear than it has ever been. Even if it is a journey - without having an end.

Happy Thanksgiving to All!

Article originally appeared on Fried Nerves Blog (http://www.moanavida.com/).
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