I have found people whom are invested - in each other and in the space we all share. They ask others what is needed, and search for ways to help get it. They selflessly offer a helping hand. They will fight injustices for people they don’t even know. They add immeasurable beauty to our surroundings. They don’t sit around and complain about what they wish were different. They sit together and discuss ways to create the home they want and believe we all deserve. THAT. That is the breath and the heartbeat of community, and community is what makes a place worth staying.
I am learning to be more like the cardinal - to sing freely, loud and clear. I have a voice that is unique. I can use it to add something beautiful to the world. In relearning how to use my voice I am developing more respect for myself, and am growing beyond the fear the kept me small for many years. Now I have dignity. The cardinal in my tattoo is in a position of prominence, wings spread wide, soaring upward. It reminds me to follow suit. I will no longer make myself small. I will not hide. I will spread my wings as wide as they will go and use my voice to leave this world better than I found it.
The "why" for my trip to Colorado. First Descents was the spark that relit the fire in my soul, opened my heart to love and community, and brought me back to the self I'd lost touch with long ago. I will be traveling and having adventures as much as possible, spreading FD love wherever I … Continue reading Out Living It – The Project
I set out to climb the whole mountain but I stopped halfway and enjoyed the view. That is as far as I went. This is how I practice santosha, or contentment - the second niyama in Patanjali's Eight Limb Path of Yoga. Often when people hear the term content they think it is complacency, or … Continue reading Santosha : Contentment
Right now I am sitting on a rock in the Garden of the Gods, Pike's Peak clearly in view, writing about life. I haven't sat on this particular rock before, but the scene is a familiar one. For most of my life, even before I was old enough to contemplate the meaning of life and … Continue reading Elyse On the Rocks
Those early days were filled with mourning for the things I would most assuredly lose. My imagination had me rendered immobile, speechless, and blind; a breathing statue in constant, invisible pain. I could find no meaning in a life like that. My loved ones would spend their precious time caring for me while I offered nothing in return; my children would sacrifice their own pursuits for my sake. I'd be nothing more than a burden.But in a moment of clarity several weeks later, I snapped out of it.
The last week of February was when I was hit by a proverbial truck. Both feet went numb first. Then both hands. Over the course of three days that loss of sensation crept up into my shins, quads, and my entire left arm. Some refer to it as Novocain Numb. It wasn’t painful, but it scared me. I found myself trying to shake it out, as a runner does before a race to loosen up and get the blood flowing. I clenched my hands into fists and stretched them out again, just to be sure I still could.
I am bursting with joy and have a zest for life. I am charismatic and engaging. I feel like sunshine walking around. I have great ambitions and I’m passionately pursuing them. I’m conquering my fears. My to-do list is almost complete - I am hypomanic -
"I thought you hated birds - why do you have them tattooed on you?" It's a metaphor. Let me explain...
Now that I'm back home I'm really feeling it. Physically, I've crashed. I've taken about 5 naps a day (unintentionally) and am having a hard time getting my body started to do any activity. I suppose the 90 degree heat with 90% humidity are helping my cause. These are symptoms of my MS that I … Continue reading First Descents Hangover