great quote for those dealing with an unexpected illness or disability

[blondie58]

I was at an MS seminar today and this workshop was a little unusual in the fact that it centered more on what to do with your diagnosis and what you do with the news rather than the usual clinical sort of meetings that tell you what will happen to you. Maureen Manley, a former Olympic bicyclist was there to tell her story after she was diagnosed with ms.

I found this to be a very inspirational quote-

"Illness or disability takes away a part of your life, but in doing so, it gives you the opportunity to choose the life you will lead, as opposed to living the one you've simply accumulated over the years."

Dr. Arthur Frank

[Lurking Dem]

1. That was food for thought

and generated a conversation here at home. Thank you!

If anybody here watched Numb3rs, it made me think of the "conscious walking" that Larry engaged in at the Buddhist Temple. 3 hours to cross the garden!

Amusing on the surface, but that sort of deliberation - of purpose - is exactly what that quote is talking about.

While I have to make choices now out of necessity, the very act of conscious direction is a gift I might otherwise have not acquired.

[blondie58]

2. 3 hours to cross a garden?! wow!

I missed that episode, actually, I haven't watched it for awhile, but I find the Eastern philosophies very intriguing. That is something that they stressed in the workshop yesterday. They also pointed out that all of your states- Physical, Mental, Spiritual and Emotional need to be healthy and in sync, or it will affect something else within you. Yes, conscious direction is a very good thing to acquire.

It is like Ann Landers famous rant on the Station- I had read this years ago and it left an impression on me-

Dear Ann Landers: In July of 1985 my wife was diagnosed as having terminal cancer. Shortly afterward, your column on the Station by R. J. Hastings appeared in Newsday.

For years, we had talked of "someday" going to Paris, a city I fell in love with as a GI. The day after I read the poem, I realized that it was time to pull into the "station".

As soon as the doctor OK'd the trip, we went to Paris and had the most beautiful vacation of our 43 years. My lovely wife passed away a year and half after the diagnosis.

I have since taken the liberty of passing copies of that column to friends. One purchased his "someday" car, another went on a long-delayed trip. But it can also mean visiting a sick friend - and that "someday" should be now.

There is so much hurt in looking back and remembering those things we intended to do and didn't.

Thank you, Ann Landers, for Paris - Irv Gaiptman, Plainview, N.Y.

Dear Irv: You were dear to let me know what "The Station" meant to your life. Here it is for all the others who haven't as yet learned that lesson:

The Station
by Robert J. Hastings

Tucked away in our subconscious is an idyllic vision. We see ourselves on a long trip that spans the continent. We are traveling by train. Out the windows we drink in the passing scene of cars on nearby highways, of children waving at a crossing, of cattle grazing on a distant hillside, of smoke pouring from a power plant, of row upon row of corn and wheat, of flatlands and valleys, of mountains and rolling hillsides, of city skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds is the final destination. On a certain day at a certain hour we will pull into the station. Bands will be playing and flags waving. Once we get there, so many wonderful dreams will come true and the pieces of our lives will fit together like a completed jigsaw puzzle. How restlessly we pace the aisles, damning the minutes for loitering - waiting, waiting, waiting for the station.

"When we reach the station, that will be it!" we cry. "When I'm 18." "When I buy a new 450SL Mercedes Benz!" "When I put the last kid through college." "When I have paid off the mortgage!" "When I get a promotion." "When I reach the age of retirement, I shall live happily ever after!"

Sooner or later we must realize there is no station, no one place to arrive at once and for all. The true joy of life is the trip. The station is only a dream. It constantly outdistances us.

"Relish the moment" is a good motto, especially when coupled with Palm 118:24: "This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it." It isn't the burdens of today that drive men mad. It is the regrets over yesterday and the fear of tomorrow. Regret and fear are twin thieves who rob us of today.

So, stop pacing the aisles and counting the miles. Instead, climb more mountains, eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often, swim more rivers, watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less. Life must be lived as we go along. The station will come soon enough.





From an Ann Landers' column appearing in the Los Angeles Time Syndicate


I am and have always been a big believer in enjoying the MOMENT that is in front of you.
Edited to add- I work with a guy who absolutely hates his job. He is in a foul mood most of the time when he is at work. He knows literally how many days he has until retirement. I feel very sorry for him, and sincerely hope that he has a lot of days to enjoy after retirement. I have my doubts, though, as if you have that kind of attitude now, there will always be something that will set off your mood. Life isn't perfect, but you have to deal with it as best you can.

[Lurking Dem]

3. Wow!

I had never seen that.

Many years ago, my "station" was, "when they find a cure...." or "when I feel better...." The epiphany was a little painful but necessary.

[mopinko]

6. i have always said

that i have a lot more regrets for the things i didn't do than for the things i did.
it does lead to a little bit of a helter skelter life, which has it's limits. but i don't really know another way.

[flamingyouth]

5. I loved that episode.

There's a group here that has a monthly group walking meditation and watching that made me want to go to one of them.

[flamingyouth]

4. Great quote.

I copied it for future reference. Thanks.