Life with Lyme: Perspective is Everything.

 

Illustration by saworks

 

We are funny little creatures.

 

I often think on the absurdity of our existence. At times I step back and see myself and my problems as less than a tiny little speck magnified by a Scanning Electron Microscope 30,000X. In other words; nothing.  

 

Other times my brain and body wont let me escape. I am forced to feel every little bit of pain, both physical, mental and emotional. Don't misunderstand. I don't dwell on it, nor do I think I'm worse off than others. I'm damn lucky to have the life I have. Perspective is everything.

 

At times I can not focus on my favorite pastime: reading, due to lack of concentration.  I am forced to the passive role of watching a film, series, or documentary on my comfy prison couch with my laptop. This last weekend I couldn't even focus on a documentary. Thank you BBC for your many adaptations of great books.

 

I also have my view.

I need a view.

 

If our home didn't have large windows I would have lost what little mind I have left. We have three bird feeders: all within my visual range. I watch the frantic, short lived lives of birds and small critters. Large hawks swoop down like graceful dive bombers and then are chased away by angry mobs of little birds while sounding the alarm.  We have two fat squirrels whose life ambition is to feed from the aforementioned feeders. They don't succeed, but do grow fat on the seeds dropped on the ground. There is a chipmunk who lives under our house. He is a daring fellow; running under the feet of anyone sitting on the patio in fall; his cheeks puffed with his winters hoard. Their evolved will to survive is strong, as is mine.

 

I watch the sky and it's cloud travelers from morning to night. Negative emotions are difficult to battle with when the skies are a monotonous white gray, hour after hour day after day.

 

We have many trees, with their topography of reddish brown crevasses that look like rivers from the view of an airplane window; where woodpeckers hammer at for insects. This I approve of. I do not care for insects. They remind me of deep dark and dank places. I need the intense magnificent light of the Mediterranean. I refuse to be buried when I die. Dan and I want to be cremated. At first I wanted my ashes thrown from a high place into the Greek seas, but Dan has much better idea: our ashes blasted into the night sky in a fireworks display towards the shimmering stars.

 

Now that's what I call a view!

 

 

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