Skinny dipping makes me tingle. The lake water glides against my skin like silk. In the blue sky above me, bald eagles hang-glide in loops. Their wingtips fan my soul as though it were made of wind chimes. Times like this, when I am in my true essence as a completely whole and sacred Being, my body hums like a tuning fork struck against the knee-bone of a unicorn.
Back at my little cabin, I need to get back to the workaday world somehow. I start with emails. SOULO Theatre’s announcing a course for those with episodic disability. What’s that? I read about it on the Realize Canada website: “An episodic disability is marked by fluctuating periods and degrees of wellness and disability. In addition, these periods of wellness and disability are unpredictable.” It sounds like me. But it isn’t; I’m not disabled. I delete the message.
But a little voice inside me says, “What about that time you couldn’t get up off of the bathroom floor?”
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