The road to freedom

As I walk out my front door on a daily basis (well, almost), I feel nothing but deep gratitude within my soul.  I take a few cleansing breaths in and out and start on my way. Sometimes I feel pretty strong and ready to tackle my neighborhood full of hills, but other times I don’t have much energy, so I take the shorter paths which are a bit easier to walk.  Each day is a new normal for me, and I must allow myself space and patience to adjust and adapt. There is no longer getting out of bed quickly and running out the door in a hurry without hesitation or being lead by wild abandon—sometimes I secretly miss those days because they felt like freedom to me.  Instead, I no longer take for granted the healing that comes from planting one’s feet solidly on the ground and intentionally stepping forth.  

It does not matter how far I go nor the pace of which I travel.  I could care less.  No, I do not clock my daily steps with a Fitbit or some other device.  To me, this is a hinderance to my own progress.  I walk quietly and purposefully without the noise of music or podcasts straining my ears.  Why?  Because each step matters.  My story matters.  My freedom matters. There are days when I am struggling with a lot of pain and fatigue so I might only jaunt briefly around the yard.  I call this a success.   Dropping my competitive yearn as in years ago gives me the freedom from comparison which does not serve me well. It is refreshing to just walk, observe, ponder, and pray.   I call this my “gratitude walk”.   It is a sacred time to commune with God and feel His peace wash over me. 

Sometimes my path might be an evening stroll on our boardwalk at the beach with my hubby.  We walk hand in hand and just talk about our day while connecting with one another. If we are lucky, we run into friends who are walking as well and we stop and chat and share some laughter.  This brings some levity into our souls which is appreciated after dealing with the stressors of the day. What a blessing for me to continue to gain strength to physically walk more than I have in several years.  Michael reminds me of how far I have come and to celebrate what I can do on any given day and not focus on what I can’t.  Once again, freedom. 

There were many days and weeks over the past years that I was so completely debilitated that I was unable to walk outside.  I could only manage shuffling around the inside first floor of my home. Sometimes I couldn’t even manage that alone.  I had to have help from my caring family or my dear sweet friends.  What blessings they were!  God was certainly caring for me in those times when I felt the most vulnerable.  Those were dark, depressing days that definitely did NOT feel like freedom.     

This year I am celebrating more milestones of actually putting one foot in front of the other and finally getting somewhere!  WooHoo!  My strength and hope are renewed, and my Heavenly Father is paving the way before me.   I continue to walk in His Love and Light.  When I surrender to His will, I know His perfect plan will be worked out in and through me.   Not my way,  but His.   Freedom. 

The road to healing is not a straight one.   I am sure you are well aware of this yourselves, no matter your circumstances.   I veer off to the side of my road many times and end up in a ditch.  Presently the ditch isn’t so deep , so I am able to get out and find my path which leads to freedom once again.  It seems to be a continual process of our lives.  

Can you think of areas of your life that you might have fallen off the road and into a ditch?  Is it possible to regain your strength and reset your GPS to guide you to your destination?   My hopes and prayers are with you on your road to freedom, and may you discover sweet joy in your journey as well. 

As Henri Nouwen says,

      “ In everything keep trusting that God is with you, that God has given you companions on the journey.  Keep returning to the road to freedom.”  

To breathe or not to breathe

‘‘Tis the season of smellies and artificial scents all over the place.  Ugh!!  I dread just stepping out of my scent free zone and into the not so subtle aromas of candles, poupori, sprayed cinnamon sticks and pine cones, smelly floral arrangements of Fall.  Sadly, on top of the everyday bombardment of artificial smells, I am now dealing with the worse two seasons of all—Fall and Winter.  I am tired of being polite or politically correct on this issue, so bear with me while I make my voice (and nose) heard. 

I suffer from extreme chemical sensitivity which is only one of the many annoying symptoms of chronic M.  This symptom is difficult to manage due to the fact I must live in the world and not stay contained in a bubble which is fragrance free.  Unfortunately, if I just wouldn’t have to breathe, I might be better off.   Lol.   All kidding aside, breathing in toxic chemicals which are so offensive is not healthy for anyone.  This is the truth. What ever happened to “natural scents”?  Why do we attach artificial scents to the air filter systems, cleaning products, room deodorizers, etc etc?  Most are completely unnecessary.  The smell of real baked apple and pumpkin pies is sure better than a yankee candle.  Simply placing fresh citrus in bowls works well to add a fresh odor to any environment.  

It seems like I can’t go into stores, office buildings(medical included), public restrooms without potentially entering a mine field.  I find that most store changing rooms smell so badly that I can’t even try on the clothes. I must take them home for that process. Those scents not only trigger an awful M, but I physically get respiratory distress which is another whole level of sick.  And yes, I carry scarves with pure peppermint oil or apply Vick’s vapor rub to my nose.  I certainly do everything to help myself, but sometimes it isn’t enough.  I not only speak for myself, but I am advocating for my fellow sufferers as well.  

If I visit someone’s home I need to ask them ahead of time to please “de-scent” their place.  For my dear friends and family I don’t feel embarrassed but for people whom I do not know, I don’t say anything and then just “hope for the best”.   If their house doesn’t waft with artificial smells, someone undoubtedly will be bathed in strong perfume!  I can’t win.  Even staying for a short time is not really a viable option for me.  It is not that simple. Church can be a disaster zone—- perfumes and incense will send me running for the door.  I can walk in feeling pretty well and leave feeling pretty sick.   

Since chronic M is mostly an invisible illness, how I may look is not a true indicator of how I may actually feel.  Dressing up nicely to appear in public with a smile on my face doesn’t mean I am not bothered by my surroundings and ready to head straight on ino a sick attack.   I do my ever-lovin’ best to participate in every way I can to enjoy life and all its blessings, but my overly sensitive nervous system has different ideas.  If you happen to see me with a strange look on my face with eyes glazed over, you will know I am headed to go down soon.  So, get out of my way!!!  

I kindly ask consideration, tolerance, and understanding of my heightened chemical sensitivity even though it may seem awkward or strange.  Please don’t be offended if I ask you to not wear perfume or give me lotions and soaps for gifts.  It is nothing personal against you. Not at all.  It helps me to navigate my surroundings a bit easier so that I can enjoy stepping outside of my comfort zone.   It would be much appreciated. 

 

So this year at the Thanksgiving table, please pass the turkey, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, but not the artificial cinnamon pine cones around the centerpiece.   Thank you.