It's here. The cold rips through Erie, and leaves warm days of the recent summer behind. This time of year is always hard on my body. The cold creeping into my aging joints and causing aches and pains. To the germs being passed around due to being stuck indoors. My 28th birthday falls on thanksgiving this year. Yet I'm not overly excited. I've suffered far too many losses this year. I lost many friends due to this wicked genetic poison. I often wonder why I'm still alive. I often ask myself why I am so hung up on my fears of getting sicker... Slowly .... Declining.... It's been one hell of a year. I've been wandering aimlessly trying to call a place home. Wondering where I belong. Wishing I lived in Germany... Or Florida.
But ultimately I figured I don't have a place I "belong". I do belong to the the earth, where my body will return one day. The ashes that will be scattered in various places in the world ... Returning to stardust. Back to my ancestors energies.... Back to the most beautiful existence.
But I am stuck in limbo at the moment. My health at a standstill, I'm not sure what to expect anymore. My body goes through cycles if weakness, then great strength. It leaves me quite jaded some days. Seven years ago I was laying in the hospital, after nearly dying... I formed a new respect with death. I no longer feared it. I began to embrace it, thinking that the end was rapidly approaching. Yet I somehow kept breathing. Death was only pushing me forward, not pulling me down...
I was told I was dying. I was told I needed a lung transplant. But that phrase has so many more hidden secrets. Someone would die in the coming year.... I would live on, while a family lost a loved one. I struggled with that idea at first. And eventually accepted it. I felt selfish for wanting transplant. I felt as though I was being a coward. Yet I felt no fear towards dying. I must admit, it was the thought of someone else's life being cut short. But that also was not true. Their time had come. And they were leaving behind hope. They no longer needed their flesh, and left that unto others. Such as myself.
When I heard the words, "The lungs are perfect, transplant is a go." I felt my heart sink, and my eyes began welling up in hot tears as my blood ran cold. I stuttered the words, " I feel like I killed them." My nurses and surgeon quickly had to reassure me that this was not taking away from someone. This was a gift to me. I needed to do something great in life.
And I have...
And I will continue to..
A great medicine man told me that I had something big to do, I wasn't going anywhere. Here I am. Defying the odds. Pushing limits. And testing fate.
I've become less fearful of many things in life.
I think that it is a weapon. The ability to push our human bodies forward in ways others creatures can't. Yet our bodies can be our own worst enemy.
We can unknowingly become infected with a deadly illness, and bring it upon others.
We can say things, that seem insignificant to us. And it can be a bullet to another person's heart.
No one is perfect. Nor will anyone ever reach perfection. It's a struggle that will never be overcome, and once we finally accept it. Only then do we truly live free.
We are all only oddly shaped pieces of the big picture.