I have a half-floating, half-searching feeling as I walk on beneath these foggy skies—when and where will I find clarity again? I have spent a little over three decades creatively strengthening my independence—a matter to which I was accustomed and never gave a great deal of thought. I have never been the girl who struggled…at least not as others may have perceived. My emotions weighed a lot heavier on my soul than the physical challenges because well…disability was never anything new.
As I journey through my thirties, however, I am feeling the years and must adjust the pace of my step accordingly. I am walking on, knowing this requires more careful thought than in more carefree days.
And so as my steady strides swerve from their path yet another beat more, I keep favourite mantras and loved lyrics in my headspace. I walk on, I push; I remember that this isn’t really significantly more difficult. I know how stars await me, remembering they begin and end my dreams. The choices I make are coloured by how much energy I dare steal from the same sun I’ve always known. All I know is that I cannot cease chasing the sunsets that reconnect me to my heart—where the words are stored, turned over, and poured into again and again.
I’ll continue walking on; for I must keep the promise I once made to keep writing these lines.