Like a Russian nesting doll, the innermost me knows appearances are just that, and while I try not to think about my superficial outer self in a vain way, the outermost larger part of me still feels very much like a curse to deal with. With the medications I am on and the mobility limitations I face, I am limited in the changes I can make. I just can't accept losing more of who I think of myself as being to disease induced weight and immobility, though. The recommended steps for an adult is 10,000 per day. I queried my Rheumatoid Arthritis Facebook board as to what a realistic gimpy level would be, and received comments like: "Be happy you are walking! I'm in a wheelchair" and "I'd be happy with 1,000 steps." That's perspective for ya. I've seen so much loss because of this disease -- relationships, financial, personal happiness and fulfillment -- I want to doggedly protect whatever scraps that are left. If counting steps helps this happen, great. So, the counter is reset and i on off to walk through another day. Every step includes pain, but as my Dutch friend said, "Rest is Rust." We'll see when the novelty wears off -- but maybe some new, better habits might be in place before then.
Last night I worked on my art for an hour before bed. I opened the front door of my house and Kizzy perched in front of it, taking in the gorgeous cool night air. He quietly gnawed at his wood and thankfully didn't practice his new, very powerful jungle yell that I feel sure can be heard all over Reading. I love this time of year, before the continuous heat moves in and the day and night temps offer refreshing contrast. Being busy now until Saturday night, I don't see much art time in my week, which is frustrating, but is the way it has to be. Bring on the summer -- with more art, more walking, and more staying up late. If I stay up late I get more steps!
What will you make today?