|I used to have a sweatshirt with this quip on it. I was newly diagnosed and newly disabled. I thought it was real funny. Well, maybe not REAL funny, but amusing. Other people seeing it would smile, and tell me they liked my sweatshirt, and we’d all have a little chuckle. But it always left me with a bit of a guilty aftertaste.|
The shirt got frayed and filthy, mostly on the cuffs, mostly with mud and dirt from the hand rims of my wheelchair. It has long since been retired. I think were it not for the stains and fraying, I’d’a sent it to the rag bag anyway. Once the reality of disability set in, it didn’t seem so funny any more. I’ve come to a better understanding of the issues surrounding disability. Disabled people way before me worked very hard to ensure that I had access to those parking spaces, and more. As an advocate-by-default, I need to honor those who came before me and did the real work to ensure my right to equal access.
If we were just for the parking, none of us would be in it.
|“Children and hot fluid should be kept apart.” Sage advice from the side of my French-press coffee brewer.|
A new reader of One Life (that brings my total readership to three or four) has been bravely going into the Archives and posting comments and likes (thank you, Katherine and your wonderful Photobooth Journal), inspiring me to delve back into the past. I was surprised to find how far back One Life goes – all the way back to February of 2005. I spent far too much of yesterday afternoon pawing around, reacquainting myself with myself.
What I found was a personal journal, musing about what I was doing day-to-day, observations about my early experiences with multiple sclerosis, family and work life. Usually there was a photograph attached, although the links have long expired so I don’t know what the pictures were of. Lots of links to other sites, odd things found online, what music was playing as I wrote, those links long expired too. In the end, the record is only interesting to me, and even then, not very.
But I feel inspired to get back on the horse. To stop taking myself and my blogging so seriously. What paralyzes me now is the self-imposed notion that each post has to be a fully thought out and insightful essay. I have a folder on my hard drive of barely begun such essays, writings that invariably get tangled up with lost threads and wind up pointless. Almost as if I was writing for an audience, and not just for myself. Imagine that!
Well, no more. I’m going to write what I want. I hope you’ll come along for the ride and share your thoughts; I’d love for this to be as much of a conversation as it can be.