The nation has survived Hallowe'en again. I suppose... but then again, I have far better things to do than go spelunking for sadness. Photos of niece and nephew were dangerously adorable, I might get another cute pic in the next few days. We had no visitors, but then again, our neighborhood isn't a "kid" neighborhood, maybe teens both at the low numbers and the high ones, none of whom (at least in said This Neighborhood) they have little interest in wandering the streets to get candy.
Even on that magical night when, as the Venture Brothers show so eloquently said, we discover... ourselves.
Is there anything good? Where are those "gifts" you've been promised?
Really, really experiencing the outside world, gently but inexorably (I don't really need "inexorable" with MS, but the seasons don't do the "withering" thing at least) changing from autumn to winter, or as the Five Elements people would call it, from Metal to Water. Which change is actually quite beautiful. Seeing how the change in the overcast into clear puts really cool solar energy into the solar-powered lights that twinkle so beautifully at night, and how the morning clouds foretell the evening twinkling. (As I write this, pretty darn overcast so no twinkling... yet.)
Being MS-ified does a lot about "temperature sensitivity," I've become both heat- and cold-sensitive, and really experiencing the differences if I approach it with open arms and open heart is a gift I never truly experienced before I was... accessorized with MS and the wheelchair.
Using that sensitivity to see how beautiful my wife is both wearing her Fancy Duds and a towel over her head post-shower, is really, really, beautiful. And don't worry dear, I have no pictures to post; poor manual coordination means I don't wander around with my phone snapping candids at just the right (wrong) time. What energy I have is spent primarily on enjoying... you.
Small gifts are still beautiful.