Parker, Pluto - Digger
I can’t deny it. My body is getting worse and worse.
Some of you have been watching from a distance and wondering how I’m doing. Sometimes I don’t even know how to talk about it anymore…but I’ll try again.
To make it easier, I’ve started giving names to the challenges in my life.
The medication challenge, for example, I’ve named Pluto. It’s way out there—unfathomable, mysterious, and seemingly impossible to manage. Between my medications and my diet, I feel as though I’m constantly trying to solve a puzzle that defies my understanding. No matter how disciplined I am, I never quite get it right. It challenges everything I have always believed about effort, responsibility, and self-control. Most of the time, I live in denial because the alternative feels overwhelming.
My spasms are getting worse. They now show up in my face, and I find that very uncomfortable. It discourages me from being social. That creates problems for Saturn, the sanguine part of me—the part that loves people, conversation, laughter, and connection. Saturn feels isolated now, unsure whether she wants to connect or retreat.
When I’m discouraged, I lose myself in Digger - the part of me that relishes my alone time and loves to dig around for words and thoughts – and writes and writes and writes.
Right now, I’ve been rewriting and developing the ‘life writing’ course” that I’ve been teaching for almost eight years. I never intended to teach this course, it kind of just happened . Now I want to transform it into something truly glorious. I spend hours with it—wonderful hours. It is my creative playground, my workshop, my sanctuary.
Slowly I'm realizing, I am living the life I always imagined I would someday live. I’m actually being forced by my physical limitations into a writer’s lifestyle.
People sometimes ask me, “Is there enough joy in your life right now?”
The answer is simple. I have this wonderful family who entertains me. And there’s this dog, faithfully following me around and enthusiastically jumping on everyone who walks through the door.
And then there is Cliff. I miss Cliff. I call him my Moon at night and my Mars during the day.
The more I reflect on him, the more I realize how wonderful we had it. He was the entertainer, the photographer, the speaker, the guitarist, the magician, the actor, the preacher, the lifeguard on the beach, His memory sustains me. When midnight comes, and when the moon is hanging quietly in the sky, I am deeply thankful. that I had him close all those years.
And then there is the Voice – that wonderful soft Voice that speaks to me . The Voice that has guided me all these years. What is it telling me?
I think I will leave that for another day..
Photo by -- Mars
Some of you have been watching from a distance and wondering how I’m doing. Sometimes I don’t even know how to talk about it anymore…but I’ll try again.
To make it easier, I’ve started giving names to the challenges in my life.
The medication challenge, for example, I’ve named Pluto. It’s way out there—unfathomable, mysterious, and seemingly impossible to manage. Between my medications and my diet, I feel as though I’m constantly trying to solve a puzzle that defies my understanding. No matter how disciplined I am, I never quite get it right. It challenges everything I have always believed about effort, responsibility, and self-control. Most of the time, I live in denial because the alternative feels overwhelming.
My spasms are getting worse. They now show up in my face, and I find that very uncomfortable. It discourages me from being social. That creates problems for Saturn, the sanguine part of me—the part that loves people, conversation, laughter, and connection. Saturn feels isolated now, unsure whether she wants to connect or retreat.
When I’m discouraged, I lose myself in Digger - the part of me that relishes my alone time and loves to dig around for words and thoughts – and writes and writes and writes.
Right now, I’ve been rewriting and developing the ‘life writing’ course” that I’ve been teaching for almost eight years. I never intended to teach this course, it kind of just happened . Now I want to transform it into something truly glorious. I spend hours with it—wonderful hours. It is my creative playground, my workshop, my sanctuary.
Slowly I'm realizing, I am living the life I always imagined I would someday live. I’m actually being forced by my physical limitations into a writer’s lifestyle.
People sometimes ask me, “Is there enough joy in your life right now?”
The answer is simple. I have this wonderful family who entertains me. And there’s this dog, faithfully following me around and enthusiastically jumping on everyone who walks through the door.
And then there is Cliff. I miss Cliff. I call him my Moon at night and my Mars during the day.
The more I reflect on him, the more I realize how wonderful we had it. He was the entertainer, the photographer, the speaker, the guitarist, the magician, the actor, the preacher, the lifeguard on the beach, His memory sustains me. When midnight comes, and when the moon is hanging quietly in the sky, I am deeply thankful. that I had him close all those years.
And then there is the Voice – that wonderful soft Voice that speaks to me . The Voice that has guided me all these years. What is it telling me?
I think I will leave that for another day..
Photo by -- Mars
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