Life’s only certainty might be that spiritual growth is not linear. Instead, it revisits the past like an infinity symbol on its side, exposing long regression periods. I had been floundering somewhere in the far circle of infinity’s ignorance for several months, pressuring a choice I didn’t think was necessary for the longest time. Recently, though, I was forced into a decision, which has catapulted my consciousness to the precipice of virgin territory.
I came to this realization today on a walk. I have been using trekking poles for over a year to mitigate the risk of an off-balance fall. They work great except for irritating the joints in my wrists. A quarter mile into my suburban hike, my wrists were in such fiery pain that I knew the day’s cumulative activity would translate into sufficient later agony to prohibit sleep. I left the poles at the side of the road to be retrieved on my return.
The walk immediately became more enjoyable, but it wasn’t until the two-mile mark, approaching the steepest hill, that I felt the transformation within me. My labored breathing eased into a steady rhythm, lifting the weight of accelerated disease progression from my being. My vision brightened at the edges as the steady rain fell on my exposed face. An unexpected smile came to my lips as I attacked the hill, savoring the “good” pain of docile living departing my body.
“Move it or lose it,” I said, a lopsided grin gracing my face. Looking up at the exquisite gray sky, a sensation of oneness washed over my soul. Perhaps we are meant to occasionally fall from grace, an essential element of humanity, a perfect flaw in life’s masterpiece.
Thank you Pete for being you and plugging away at life itself, I was recently diagnosed with a disease and your positive outlook at life itself, has helped me with understanding what I will face,
Thank you so much your book the lost intruder was fantastic, as a fellow Swordsman, I salute you Sir.
You have something very special in the way you use words to convey spiritual messages from within. I have our 7th and 8th grade yearbooks from ACS in Athens – years 75-77. Your picture graces many pages and I recall so much. Then ai read this passage you wrote and I feel deeply touched.. My dads wife has Parkinsons and she is into her second and third decade fighting this disease. Please keep fighting as your way with words is a blessing.