The tides are in our veins, we still mirror the stars, life is your child, but there is in me… Older and harder than life and more impartial, the eye that watched before there was an ocean. -Robinson Jeffers
I keep a card in my wallet from the National Parkinson’s Foundation that list my name and address, family members to call in case of an emergency, medications I take, drugs I should not take and so on… On the back, it states that I have Parkinson’s disease which could cause me to move slowly and have difficulty standing or speaking. Now here’s the clincher and most of you will think I’m making a joke. Underneath the above statement, printed in capital letter it states I AM NOT INTOXICATED. Now why would it say this? Continue reading Parkinson’s and the Mindfulness of Stress
The morning air nips at my hands on this autumn day as I stand behind the blowing rock. According to legend, if you drop anything from this cliff, it will return to you. Myth, wind currents or magic? Maybe all are correct; for the wind is magic and myth point to truths unseen. Continue reading Blowing Rock
In 2014, I signed up for health insurance through the Affordable Care Act. I was given a subsidy so my monthly premium was within my budget. During that same year, I started to take the drug Pramipexole, a dopamine agonist which fools the brain into thinking its dopamine. My brain does not make enough of this neurotransmitter resulting in my having Parkinson’s. I take 150 MG a day and at the time I paid about $120 for a 90-day supply through my health insurance. Continue reading Mr. Parkinson and the Politics of Pharmaceuticals
In the winter of 2010, on a bright sun-drenched morning, while driving in the country through the chilly air, I saw an owl flying at my sight level, aside of my vehicle. What was this nocturnal bird, clearly out of its element trying to tell me? My mind wandered back to Native American mythology; how all’s connected in the stream of life; how animals are spiritual beings that guide us along the path. I thought of so many things that this owl could symbolize. With so many revelations that had eluded me never to return, I had to have the answer? Continue reading Signe
Words used in different form and measure tell the story of our lives. Such stories conjunct other stories creating a collective story, word by word. When perfected, and connected, they sound of music playing in perfect harmony. They dance to the rhythm of meter and time on the road to meaning and understanding.
*adapted into Echoes In The Dark /
Having Parkinson’s disease comes with its share of pain, from my right hand that shakes too much to my feet being sore from walking with my toes curling under. But some things are just a pain in the mental ass.
Parkinson’s is caused by the loss of dopamine which controls movement. I take the drug Pramipexole, a dopamine agonist that does not make dopamine but fools the brain into thinking it is dopamine. I also take levodopa which makes dopamine. Since my diagnosis, I have gone to see a neurologist every three months or so. One of the questions I’m routinely asked is; do I gamble, drink or shop excessively? It seems that both of the drugs I take have side effects of which impulsive and compulsive behavior is an issue. Continue reading Part 10- P is for Parkinson’s or Pain in the ….
You think you know why you’re leaving, but maybe the real reason is not the same as what you think is causing you to leave. You haven’t a clue in your linear world as your reasoning is temporal in thinking but the cause is spatial. Its’ a secret echoing through the heavens and it shows itself in every form in the tangible realm… the red-tailed hawk you saw sitting calmly on the branches of a Laurel oak… the Celtic gateway. The doe and her fawn by the river’s edge prevailed upon you a longing you couldn’t comprehend, just as Rama’s consort Sita longs for a mythical golden deer. The blue heron and his mate you suddenly noticed flying over the icy waters of Lake Lynn; a liminal bird of crossing thresholds. Each is whispering your secret, a secret known to all except you. Continue reading Changes One Nimbus
And it came to pass on this day, that the wild man who created such havoc casting out demon shadows he saw in others were in reality his demons to do away with. And the inquisitive boy yearning for knowledge at every waking moment, never getting enough, are one and the same for they are you and they are me, forced into enchantment and awareness, abiding in a lonely house off to the left-hand way of ‘being’ by the river of contemplation’s. And the boy dwelling inside the wild man approaches the threshold after suffering death and inhalation of ego’s to discover compassion… the jeweled still point, lying at the heart of the soul. And it is there you will find me sitting on the porch in quiet mindful meditation.
To the beach tonight, I long for the salty air. The sun has completed its’ days’ work, so Helios rein in your trusted steeds; the moons dance with the clouds has just begun or is it a game of hide and seek? A storm is brewing, falling in off the gulf, rain in the distance, moving from east to west of the jetty which extends out from the coast, penetrating and dividing the waves. The lightning, a spidery web of energy, electric veins of the night sky, counting the seconds when the thunder roars, 1001, 1002… the miles it must sprint until illuminations arrival. The waves are wanting of my feet as they melt into the sand; I see a path of light on the surface of the water, guided by the moon’s reflection. It disappears, comes back into play, a lot like you, coinciding with the rhythm of the moon and clouds, the light and dark, the sacred and profane… wild heaven and all it will allow.