Walking has gone downhill, even more. This afternoon, I walked (I guess you'd call it that) from the garage to the mailbox and back. I had to use a cymbal stand as a cane (sometimes forgetting to put your equipment away has its advantages), and I think I was going at truly geriatric speeds. Let's see, it's maybe thirty-ish feet, round trip. It didn't take seconds, it took minutes.
Nothing reassuring in that, let me tell you. To console myself with "at least you're still walking" is not exactly consolation.
But, tomorrow might be different. Who knows? Stranger things have happened. For example, I got M.S. That definitely qualifies as "strange things happening," at least from my perspective. At the very least, "unexpected."
I usually try to come to some sort of spiritual understanding of things like this, but... not today.
An old saying goes, "Before enlightenment: chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment: chop wood, carry water." Well, I'm definitely not enlightened, and I definitely can't carry water. Or much of anything else... even carrying the mail back from the mailbox put me at risk, off balance and without both hands for support.
C. S. Lewis said, "What saves a man is to take a step. Then another step."
He said nothing about how fast to take those steps. Clearly, speed of walking isn't what it's about; it's persistence. And, I think, there is some consolation in that.