Slow, gentle changes... for the better, this time. A welcome change, in itself.

Currently, I'm able to get out of bed easily before 10:00. Considering the percentage of time I've been stuck in bed, over the last few weeks, that's actually a huge change.

A friend is in town this week, only for a week... he has been a friend for twenty seven years, I'm very lucky to be able to see him once or twice a year, and I'll be introducing him to the miracle that is properly-brewed oolong, at the local Taiwanese tea emporium. I expect it'll be energetically costly, but that kind of suffering is definitely worth it.... especially if it only needs "spending" once or twice a year.

Some of my friends in our neurological community have shared their experience that the right chair and getting your legs up, rather than dangling, has made a huge difference for them as well, so I'm putting some effort into solving that particular problem in my studio. Not being able simply to sit at the computer to work on music has been one of the major things that has sapped my happiness this summer, and perhaps fixing that will enable me to work--even a little--at the machine; and thus, I hope, to increase my happiness at being able to realize creatively--even a little.

Walking is definitely getting slowly worse; I met some friends at the market last night, I had to sit down in my transport chair/walker twice to talk to them. Yeah, I wanted to talk more than one normally does while shopping, but then again, I hadn't seen them for so long that we needed some catching up... but still, getting "You're weaker than you used to be" messages is never welcome. Especially when you're trying to have quality time with friends.

And we're into Shroedinger's Summer, where I'm definitely Schroedinger's M.S. Patient, 50% happy no matter what the temperature is. Yesterday in L.A. it was high 90's in the air, hotter because of radiance from the asphalt that covers road-happy L.A. So, as I'm walking just from the car to the pharmacy (another "exciting" necessary trip yesterday), above the waist I'm feeling completely horrible; and below the waist, especially my legs, are feeling... just wonderful. If only the heat made my legs work better--it doesn't, alas, but they do like being warmed.

And, I did some good "internal work," just sitting outside at night, listening to The Universe and to how my psyche responded to what it was hearing. I'm sure there are those among us who might say that the doing of such things has nothing to do with M.S., people have been doing things like that for millennia... but the difference M.S. has made for me, in the pursuit of such things is... my excuses for not pursuing such things are being... removed.

A friend of mine's teacher's last words to him were, "Take care of yourself, my son." My own condition is telling me that, now, as well.

The dying and the living are saying the same thing: best I should listen, yes?