In these weeks post-op I’ve had some intermittent trouble with my hands being shaky. Something I’ve not had problems with before. It’s a strange side effect along with major heat intolerance that I hope will pass. So far, apart from the expected, these have been my only issues. I’ll accept them graciously. While I’ve opened myself up to a hell of a lot of hurt here by saying too much to the wrong people, well…let’s just say I couldn’t possibly care less anymore.
So, on to more important things.
In all these seasons passing in front of me, through these last years, I’m seeing each one is colored differently. The shades and darkness, or rare brilliance, are distinct in each. How I meet and accept myself varies in each of these seasons. What I project changes. What I need. The feel of each is unique. And I find each one tainted with something or someone different.
My ability and willingness to be open changes with each hit. When those winds change, I’ve either retreated to wait it out, or come out ready to weather the fucking hurricane head on. Just when I think I’m going to make it back safe, I get washed over the rails. Seems I always go back for more. The shell shocked adventurer.
I did one of my most hated things in crossing the Mackinac bridge again yesterday. Any bridge, actually. Like…can’t handle it hate. But sometimes we have to do those things to get where we want to go. To that other side. So I did.
I got my list for tomorrow and I’ve made a grave mistake. Somehow I’ve confused Dolphins for Sea Turtles…😍😍😍. Turtles, though hearty, cute and full of energy, are roughly the age of three. I may be in over my head…in three feet of water. There will be a lot of tentative small people dunking their heads under a hula hoop. And me getting splashed in the face. All…day.