I spent quite a while outside, out of the air conditioning, hanging out with my brother who was manning the grill. We had a wonderful, wonderful time.
But here's the M.S. related part of the story... all the time I was inside, I was surprisingly uncomfortable. The air conditioner wasn't set at "too cold," or anything like that, but I was certainly perceiving it as too cold. My core was comfortable, but my legs weren't at all happy. When I tried to walk anywhere, it was a-little-unpleasantly difficult.
Outside, with my brother, the thermometer on the wall read 98 degrees. In the shade. After having been out there for an hour, I had a vague feeling that I needed to go back inside, but my legs... ah, my legs. They were so very comfortable. As far as my legs were concerned, 98 degrees in the shade (8-12 percent humidity at best) was just wonderful.
At the end of the evening, we were sitting outside again, and by 9:30 it had dropped to somewhere around 80 degrees. The funny part about that was... everyone agreed: it was just a little cool.
But the wind... gentle, and very refreshing. I find a special magic in gentle, refreshing wind. Of all my cravings, some of which have become very odd on this neurological highway, that one is the one I've had from my earliest memories, and it's the one from which I have always found the greatest, most renewing, most profound blessing.
My legs want it hot. My core wants it cool. But at least they can agree on one thing: we love a gentle, refreshing, magical breeze.
The desert is a very magical place, in many ways. There's so little there, and yet... so much there. So much that's wonderful, there.
And now, it's the desert that is giving me gifts. In its harsh barrenness... it is gentle, and generous. And kind... and loving.
So, there's a calling: open your heart to the love that the life with M.S. extends you.
If there's love in the desert... might there not be love in M.S.?