Residual Effect

Taking my last two pills of the morning, I stare at this blank screen, unaware of where it will take me. My head still carries the residual effect of last night’s pain. The aftereffect of a broken-down CPAP machine awaiting repair. I don’t have much to say while I’m confined to quarters, waiting for these high humidity and high temperatures to subside. I often think of the extreme weather I once endured in the name of a paycheck, and how such extremes today would probably kill me.
 
The persistent pain in my shoulder and neck are little reminders of my newfound fragility. Of how my world is not the same as it was even five years ago. Maybe I shouldn’t harp on such limitations, but when you’re locked in a temperature-controlled closet, what else is there to think about. Yesterday was an unholy 97° with a heat index of 107. At the moment the temperature has already hit 90°, and it’s not even noon. So me and the Calico are stretched out on the bed. Waiting impatiently for cooler days and lower humidity.
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One of life’s sweet sorrows is the fact that eventually it has to end. We go about our lives wishing we were the center of the universe. But when outside voices scream, you are not, then the pain settles in. Seeds were planted at our birth. Seeds of comfort and seeds of fear. For so many us we let the garden go unattended. Allowing bad seed to choke away at a good harvest. But it doesn’t have to be that way. By becoming aware one learns how to prune and trim and how to fertilize the garden. Ignoring what is wrong never brings a good harvest. So no matter what the situation, it is you that ultimately has power to create change.