And then having no choice but to confront mis-spending the life of the spirit, as inescapably and (oh let's call it this, I can't find a better word at the moment) "enthusiastically" as I have. Forced confrontation with a need to completely change my life: this has definitely been one of the most unusual gifts of M.S.
And here's this week's surprise coincidence: The Universe has been sending me not just brute-force-mallet-to-the-head messages (e.g., M.S.) but light-tap-with-the-mallet-to-the-head coincidences.
My doctor today and a couple of wonderful friends last week—unbelievably caring and creative friends they are, when they can tell you the truth with love, a large amount of truth with an even larger amount of love—both gave me exactly the same message, in those two different times and places.
Why are you fighting so hard to justify what you know is the correct decision to turn away from the wrong path? Stop talking about why it's OK to not want what you don't want... what is it that you do want? Let's talk about that, instead!
And perhaps... actually identifying and seeking the right path might be a ... better use of that energy?
I mean, really... Would Superman spend any time fighting with someone about why he shouldn't live in a house made of kryptonite? Justifying his desire to not live in a house that would kill him? Spend all that time and energy having that argument, justifying his desire not to die, instead of leaping tall buildings with a single bound?
Hell, no. He'd just go house-hunting.
The Tiny Buddha blog discussed something similar to this issue in today's entry. It's related to one of the limbs of the Eightfold Path: Right Livelihood. There's no avoiding that one must somehow acquire the Four Necessities: food, clothing, shelter, and medicine. (Especially for us M.S.ers; "medicine," even if it's not Official M.S. Medicine, the cost of which can frequently exceed the cost of the other three Necessities.) But where is it mandated that the way we make provision for the Four Necessities should be a poor—or worse, a bad— use of the most precious thing that we have: moments of our lives?
I got enough problems with a crotchety nervous system. Why am I working at having problems outside my nervous system? Man, just "talking" about this with you, about how I've foamed at the mouth over why it's really, really a bad idea not to live in a house made of kryptonite, and here's why, and here are some more reasons, and here are even more reasons, don't you get it yet? Here are a few more reasons...
Man, I feel silly. Well, as I say all too often, the M.S. Highway is full of humor that you just can't write (except you do, you write your own jokes more often than the highway supplies them to you).
And I gotta laugh. I am silly.
Time to hero up and go non-kryptonite-house hunting.
A single-story non-kryptonite house. With doors wide enough for my wheelchair/walker, should I need it inside. And a big enough bathtub that I can really enjoy a soak in.
I mean, if what the Good Book says about "ask and ye shall receive" is true in the Real World, shouldn't it be true for a metaphorical search?
Because the Universe does have an amazing sense of humor... doesn't it?