During the winter, seeds lay beneath the cold earth, while our hearts dream of spring. In the depth of our soul lies our desires and hopes. The seeds of our hope are gentle reminders of the warming of days. Lying deep within our creased brains as silent reminders, having knowledge of the future like the seeds in the soil. Are these hope, these dreams misleading us? Or is the knowledge of what is hidden below the snows are as sure as the sprouts we will see in spring? The seeds stand naked in the bitter cold with biting winds spiraling the little bit of earth while seeking nutrients around them. With a tiny bit of sun warming the earth they stir even though the very breath of the winds carry hoar frost and snow.
Have our hopes, our dreams, faded with the cold? So deeply buried, we wonder if the sun can stir us, warm us. With the freezing winds, our very breath, are frozen upon the air, like sparkling crystals reflecting the sun's rays. Like restless waves moving up and down. Back and forth, back and forth thus our moods sway us. Dark to light, white to black, dust to crystals. This rainbow which we can create prods us, moves us, reminds us that our seeds will sprout. The spring flowers, the moon in autumn, the cools breezes of summer, the winter's snow, its idle concerns do not cloud the mind, this is the happiest season. The sun stirs our true instincts of nourishment, reproduction, social and sleep. We are are the water we drink, the air we breath, the soil in which we eat. We are never separated/isolated from the earth always reconnecting with the earth. No matter how hard the soil and how deep our seed is buried the earth is healing.
With a wink and nod-HeWal

We live in a time when many hope to have their 15 minutes of fame. Some will go to extremes in order to achieve that 15 minutes. The shock factor is alive and well. One of the reasons for the shock factor is the presumption that there is little room for new discovers. Oh once in a great while you will hear of a new frog or insect, but for the most part nothing of great importance are to be found. Most of us know the laws of the land, they are clearly defined and unchangeable. Many of the reality shows on TV try to push the boundary, going to the extreme in creating a masterpiece, experimenting in music, art, building or foods. But what about us? It has been said that the finest art is the art of living. The art of living could be found in any of these areas-health, writing, painting, habits, dress, grooming, manners, home life, religion, recreation, etc. However for many, we make our fame in how we deal with our struggles of life, health. All you have to do is to listen. Listen to others and you learn that their 15 minutes of fame is how the handle their illnesses. Are there not a hundred, hundreds of hostile germs that wage a war on our body. In early days we were provoked into making the most hazardous experiments. Many were lost in these tussles with sickness and still are being lost by hundreds daily. You might not discover a toad, but many of us have found a combination of this herb, with this vitamine, with this pain pill and wonders of wonders we fixed ourselves. We found a cure. The conquering of MY ills sheds a bright light upon all who I share it with. Only to find that the dispot of germs still has us shackled. I have found that by listening, paying attention to another's word, their stories of woe, is the best way to find my 15 minutes fame. This fame is held out to all of us. Imagine what the world would be like if just for a moment we close our mouth and open our ears. The art of living is the art of listening. The testimony of their experiences are the trophies we gain. These trophies are the fame we seek. This prize, this fame is the noblest kind of success. It takes effort on our part but so worth it.
With a wink and a nod HeWal

Years back when my sons were younger and my health was good, Ellen would invite a small group over for coffee and sweets. The company would stay for a couple of hours, simply enjoying the moment of conversation. Most of the friends who came over were individuals without a mate or because of age no longer can drive or be invited out. This past Sunday my mother-in-law had such an outing. She had a small group and all invited bought with them a dish to share. In the past the boys and I would fill serve the snacks, filled coffee cups and made sure all had plenty. This was the time for the host, Ellen, to be able to sit and enjoy the visit, since they spent time to make sure all was right. Since Ellen has been sick, Alex and I went to help Connie so she could enjoy the afternoon. We wash dishes, wipe counters, made sure fresh coffee was available. How I enjoyed the afternoon. However I also forget that I have an illness that is very painful. I had taken along some extra pain meds to get through the day. I was so tired by the time I got home. On Monday I felt like a truck ran me over.
I knew better. I knew that I should paced myself, I ignored the pain. Why? I ask that question a lot. Why? Why am I not in control of my body? How is it that I am in this situation? I am still a young enough man who should be still in my prime. Did I do something wrong? Am I being cursed? These negative thoughts can continue for a long time if we allow it.
When I am plagued with such thoughts, I try to immerse myself in a project. Like art, cooking or working outside. These small projects help to occupy my brain and before long the day is almost over. Yes, the negative thoughts are still there, however the time does go by quicker then just siting around sulking.
Something else that helps me is my attitude. I understand it is so easy to preach and easy to tell others how to get by. However since I have been plagued these past years I know what works for me; don't rehearse your woes or beg for sympathy. Don't burden your friends with a long tale of sorrow. It may be that they have even greater grief concealed. To unload your cares upon the back of another is selfish. You never know how great is the pack already, upon their back. The other may be bending beneath a heavier weight than our own. If you have the need to rehearse, rehearse something positive. Force yourself to find something of cheer to pass along. Watch the faces of your friends light up as you lead their thoughts away from gloom and care. You yourself will be lifted also, for others give back to us in kind. To talk happiness forthe world is sad enough without your woes. Look for the places that are smooth and clear. And speak to rest their weary ear. Brightness for brightness, gloom for gloom. The world is a mirror.
With a wink and a nod HeWal

For most of my life I have been a talker. I have come to realize that I actually talked over others. I thought that my words were important. I had an answer or words for every conversation. When my body started to break/slow down I was hearing differently. I was listening intently to other's word and their feelings. When someone asked "how is your day?" or " how are you feeling?" they really don't want for one to go into a discourse of their life. They want just a nod of the head or the reply " my day is fine" or simply the word 'okay'. Or how often had you asked-' do you need anything?' We all know that you are not going to get anything for them. It is only a polite question without action on our part.
However I now not only nod the head but also state' NO! how are you really feeling?' Once those words are spoken the second time you are telling the other, I really do want to know. You are saying I am concerned. Or the question do you need anything? Emphasis the point that you really do want to do an errand for them. State do you need any pills from the drugstore or do you want some chicken soup? You can further state that "listen I am going to the drugstore or I am going to the corner market. It is not bother to pick up something extra."
We have become a society who just speak words without meaning, without truly caring.
I daily face pain. I daily feel useless. I am sick and have become a burden. I had to retire early because I cannot handle the long drive day after day. I am no longer the bread winner. So when I can help someone,it makes me part of the society once again. Having been forced to slow down not only my body but also my hearing, I understand what it means to be sickly and the attitude of feeling lowly, of no use.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once wrote;
'to laugh often and love much;
To win the respect of intelligent persons and the affection of children;
to earn the approval of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; to give of one's self without the slightest thought of return;
to have accomplish a task, whether by a healthy child, a recused soul, a garden patch or redeemed social condition;
to have played and laughed with enthusiasm and sung with exaltation;
To know that even one;
To know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived;
This is to have succeeded.'
With a wink and a nod HeWal

What or whom should one believe? We are surrounded by libraries full of the printed page expressing thoughts of new age, past philosophies, stoics, doom slayers and the list can go on and on. We live in a world of transient thoughts and books of what is good today. However it may not be good tomorrow. Take so much of one vitamin or heavy doses of fiber and you will be fine. Just about the time I have a routine of what is good it changes. No not that vitamin it should be this vitamin. The same with coffee, butter, eggs, chants or excerise, it is in constant change. Which leaves one with despair, in darkness and confused. With this our rainbow of light, our happiness grows dim.
Like myself, when faced with chronic pain and a progressive disease with no cure, what eases the mind and the soul? What transient thoughts or action will pull me/us out of this dark visage of sorrow? I can only tell you what has helped me.
I try to look at the small thing of life. For an example, this morning I heard the little wren sing with gusto. I wonder how can that little bird sing so loudly. I saw the first vulture soaring in our neighbor. Okay that might seem a little odd, but the vultures gone for winter return in early spring. A few weeks back, the small snow drops pop out of the ground showing off their nodding heads, the light purple crocus are out and along with the yellow aconites. These three flowers are small in structure but how they soar our hearts. They provide a small rainbow which brightens our soul.
There are times when our condition seems incurable and eloquently spoken words mean so little. But the song of the small wren brightens our morning. We so often fear the shadow, this dark spot. For me this shadow means there is light. Light that makes us smile. We seek the giants of life when it is the little things that provide the rainbow. It takes only a drop for the colors to show themselves. It is not the rope that holds us together. It is the small thread that binds. And when the thread that binds is stretch this thread is felt from one end to the other. If we find peace and comfort with ourselves we have no need to look further. I once read that a drop of water, which is lower than all things, yet stronger even than the rocks. Confucius stated "ignorance is the night of the mind, but a night without moon of star."
With a wink and a nod-HeWal

From a early age I could hardly wait to finish school. I would dream of all the things I could do without school being in the way. Just think my mornings and afternoons would be MY time. But then my brother opened up a pet shop. Why that was what I called a perfect job. Being surrounded by birds, fish, small animals. After school I would dash from the junior high to the pet shop and then Judi would pick me up when she left work. When school was over with I wondered what my life would be, married, children, job, university, growing old etc, etc, etc.
My journey of life. How does one grade their journey of life? Do we grade our life based upon what sort of house we live in? Does one drive a new car? Is your car a hummer? What job does one grade themselves? A factory, a desk job, common job? What is retirement going to be? Traveling, cruises, another country? Is one's passport full of stamps?
But what happens when a disease cuts your life short? When you can no longer enjoy traveling? The country side holds no interest like it was when healthy. Or food at a restaurant no longer settles well? Sometime Ellen and I would get in the car and just start off in direction. No plans, just drive off.
The point is we should not grade our journey of life. My life is still a journey. I am still traveling. It seems that we grade our life in all of the wrong areas. So I have a disease that hinders my traveling. I am still breathing. Ellen still fixes unusual dinners. I can still read. I can still walk through gardens. Ellen last year mentioned that I should move my chair to different corners of the yard so I can see a different picture. And do you know it worked. Yes a journey has an end, however I am still on my journey. What matters is how are we viewing this trip. I am not only traveling the length but also the width, the height, the angles. The only boundary to my travels are the one's that I have placed in front of my. The moment you take your eye off the bull's eye, we deviate the course. I place limits by worrying about the trip. The doubts lock me. We cannot know what lies ahead. We only know the moment. So use the moment wisely and cheerfully, eagerly. We should measure the journey not by time but by the action, the thought we put into it. The moments we have are like jewels, not just about size but by worth. Our moments should be note-worthy, enduring, long lived, like the jewels of time. Not buried with clumps of sod on top but out in the sun, twinkling, brightly, alive with the spectrum of colors, colors of life, colors of a journey, colors of moments.
With a wink and a nod-HeWal

When dealing with a progressive muscle disorder with no cure at this moment and produces progressive chronic pain, you/I need to focus on something else. It is so easy to stay focused on oneself. We focus on the pain, the tears, the anger, the whatever we face in life. What we face in life, you need to remember that life in itself is progressive. Thus all of us need a bull's eye in life.
Can you imagine what life would be like if every moment is a high? Why for me, it would be exhausting. It is like mountain climbing, if you only walked on the tip of each mountain without walking through the valleys and meadows we would miss so much. There would be no bull's eye to focus on. Life is full of sorrow, setbacks and a lack of fortunes. The rivers and vales of life are what our memories are made from. It takes courage to face the raging rapids of rivers. It takes human endurance to side step the land mines in the valleys.
The saying that pops into my mind are;" this too shall pass.". My 'this too shall pass' will last a life time. I had to change my way of thinking. I had to change my activites. I had to change my bull's eye. But my life is mine. These changes of life I developed for me. So I had to faced these changes. I had to and still am, changing my fear. I consider this disease as my misfortunes. Why oh why was I cursed? It is only a curse if you stay in that frame of mind.
With a wink and a nod-HeWal