I don’t do plans. Not really. Just over seven months ago I started this blog. I didn’t have a plan for it. I had been jotting things down as they came to me in a notebook given to me by a fabulous friend.
I’ve been looking back on stuff a bit lately. Dangerous I know when you’re supposed to be living in the moment. One of my earliest scribblings was “where did it all start?”
I wrote it was there at the birth. Not fully there, more of an idea, a possibility. Like a pen which still has ink in it but hesitates mid-flow because it is held at the wrong angle.
I was a home birth. The third child so I expect my mother felt she knew what she was doing by then. Every child is born with possibilities. I expect all parents have hopes for their child. Pre-birth ideas of what they might be – boy, girl, tall, short, scientist, athlete.
As we grow up the possibilities change. Whether through nature or nurture, we are shaped and formed. Ever growing, Becoming whoever we are but not in a finite way.
There are always the multiple possibilities. Like the many different symptoms caused by the myelin scars in multiple sclerosis.
I doubt if any parent would have the idea their child might be an MSer. I am glad my parents didn’t live long enough to find out I am. I wouldn’t want them to share this journey. I want to be less serious. I am failing. I want to recapture my positivity. I think I had it but it was a fleeting butterfly which, if you touch it, will leave powder on your fingers. Every so often I net it and marvel at the beautiful colours.
For the most part I get by. I have not slipped back to the bad times I see mapped in my ‘really rather naughty’ notebook. I may quote from my rock bottom pages in the future but right now my plan is to jot down quirky thoughts if they come to me. To blog when I can. To live each day.