My body hasn't changed but my mind is a bit lighter today.
I love spring. I love the renewal of everything. I love the freshness of it. I love waking in the morning, "running" out to the living room to see if there are new sprouts on the plants. I don't live on a farm but there are still critters to tend to, me being the first of them. After I've managed me there's the cat to feed, her litter box is cleaned daily. There are fish to feed, a gallon of fresh water to haul to them, and a frog to feed. There's a small worm compost pile to manage. Then it's back to me, what part of life will I take a bite of today?
Although I can't seem to get a hold of a healthy parsley plant, I was able to find a regular mint plant which I hear cat's like. I just wanted her to have something to chew on at will. Beside the fish tank is a water fountain display. Around the fountain are landscaping rocks so that it looks like a wishing well kind of thing you see in a yard. Growing between the rocks are plants and driftwood. Though my hot stones are part of the display, they aren't ever in soil or in the plants. They're just part of the decoration. The entire thing sits on plastic so as not to ruin the carpet.
After several years of being on the market, the historic building in Indianapolis that was once the property of the Watchtower Bible and Tract Society has been sold. This is a very special place for me because I was baptized in the immersion pool there. Well, as items not part of the sale are removed, the wheelchair that was kept on hand for emergencies was given to me. It's in tip top shape.
You know what's funny? When it was offered I felt so happy but as time went on I felt ..... unworthy...... You know what else? The feelings of worthlessness began to overshadow the joy. I've only had one person tell me that I'm unworthy of anything. I've only had one person tell me that I am a sham, a liar, a manipulator, disloyal, a liar. I may have been given all those titles by my mother and her family, but no one else has told me this, especially those of like faith. They've been nothing but supportive, nothing but stabilizing and friendly.
Who am I?
So why did I suddenly start feeling unworthy of the wheelchair? The emotional beatings from the past and my own insecurities fuel feelings of worthlessness, guilt and shame. I was quite surprised when I felt like I should let someone else take it, someone more deserving, more faithful, someone more clean inside. At the moment I began feeling unworthy I was fighting old ideas of who I am as told by my mother.
So, who am I? I'm just a girl born to be a chef. I went to school to become a chef, worked hard at it after school then circumstances changed. I am now a chef who became an artist. I am religious, spiritual and a woman of faith. I'm needy and self sufficient. I'm emotional. I feel in color. I'm not a dreamer. I thrive in solitude but I need my friends very much. Self confidence is lacking due to my physical condition. I'm embarrassed by my outward appearance.
I like a good challenge. I've got a great imagination. I need to experience nature as much as I need good books and great tea. I love the many styles of art. I love fabric and sewing. I have OCD but that's gotten much better, much better, much better. I have to go wash my hands 3 times now. LOL. I have a sense of humor. I love a good conversation, not a debate, but a good conversation where people connect and feel intellectually satisfied. I can't spell to save my life.
I'm impulsive at times. I speak when I should listen. In the last five years I've discovered what it feels like to be loved. It took 40 years to know that feeling. It's incredible. I'm vulnerable in places. I fall more often than usual.
I so love my dreadlocks. Seriously. I'm not lying. I love my dreads! They're the only thing that makes me feel pretty, that and cobalt blue toenail polish. I want to feel pretty so I add handmade beads to my hair. I make my own earrings. I repair old jewelry and make it my own. I'm sentimental.
I'm human....... Despite not feeling it, despite feeling as though I look like a freak, despite feeling alienated due to pain and the hole it sucks me into, I am, in fact just like everyone else. Truth is, I'm human. What a hard concept to grasp.