I have been able to find the light in pretty much everything, so far.
I know the light's still there. Really, I do know that. Actually, I can tell that it's there..
But right now, it is so hard to find.
Contributing most right now to my struggle for the light is my leg malfunction. Should I more accurately call it non-function? Remember Jake Sully, the hero from Avatar, when he was in his wheelchair? And the struggles he had simply to manipulate his legs?
I'm just about there, right now. At least, in terms of leg-usability. Usability without using my arms to re-position them, at least. If I didn't have bones in them, they'd basically be rubber.
My wife reminded me of the day we got The Diagnosis, and the neurologist in 2007 said "Well, in a decade or so, you might need a cane, or something like that." Well, he was wrong about that, it would seem.
Oriental medicine has been known to class the M.S. experience as a "withering disease." And if I had to sum up my experience at the moment, that's the word I'd use: withering.
New prescription for today, and the foreseeable future: Viparata Karani, the "legs up the wall" pose, assisted by Iyengar-style props.For ten minutes to an hour. And, meditation. Of any school.
As for the yoga: presuming that I can actually keep my feet up the wall, which I guess is good physical therapy for its own sake, I'm sure that it'll be good for me. And no side effects, except losing control of my legs and having them strike something nasty or, in the process of fully experiencing leg non-function, getting more depressed—which seems to happen every time I try to do something that requires the use of my legs and at which I fail.
And coincidentally, so at least I have something positive to share... Another no-side-effects assist that I can share with you: Recently I've been living in the state of "constant queasy," both before and after eating, apparently because of not eating or because of actually eating. There's no path involving "don't do that" that makes things better. Oh well. But, a bite or two of candied ginger, thank you Trader Joe's, gets the "queasy" very quickly under control. Ginger is a long-time well-known seasickness cure (illustrated very disgustingly by Mythbusters, so disgustingly that I'll let you find it yourselves rather than providing a link), and dang, does it ever work.
Why am I going through this "withering" right now? Dunno. How long is it going to last and where's it going? Dunno. Just like life, ain't it?
But dang, I would be very, very happy to let Eywa take care of this for me.