February 16, 2009

Unexpected Friends

When my publisher let me know that companies in France and Italy are interested in translations of Yoga for Movement Disorders, I had mixed reactions. I smiled and thought, Magnifique! Bellisimo! At the same time, I grimaced knowing that differences in culture and language prove no barrier for Parkinson’s. It need not pass through customs despite what it brings into the country. If there is any positive that spans the continent, any gift associated with this disease that takes so much, is in the proverbial glass. Whether it contains champagne or Chianti, it is certainly not half full. But, neither is it empty. In it are the warm personalities of people whom I’ve met due to our commonality. This haiku is for you. Pebbles, sea glass, shells, Tumbling, twirling together Riding the same wave
February 11, 2009

Turn Down the Radio

If I’m to listen to my body, as any seasoned yogi would, which part do I heed? Various shrieks from my hamstring tendon shout, “Injury here, don’t move.” At the same time, the rest of my anatomy hollers out over the pain. “Be strong,” it says. “With PD, if you stop moving, you might stop moving.” I feel as though I’m stuck between two radio frequencies, drifting between them depending on where I’m standing in the room. As the spasms in the back of that leg ease up a bit, I’m tuned in to a classical station, and can head for the gym without too much clamor. When the heavy metal band takes over, I’m back to the freezer for another ice pack, overwhelmed by the throbbing beat. You overdid it, I’d say, all but wagging a finger at myself for my mishap. Until the next time the soft violins […]
December 28, 2008

Smell’s Good

Despite the ridiculous number of holiday cookies I’ve devoured (frosted cutouts and snowballs with chocolate kisses hidden inside among the best), I’ve escaped the “Weber Hips.” This unfortunate posterior flab plagues most of the other women on my mother’s side of the family. I can, however, lay claim to inheriting the “Weber Nose.” Distinct not only in size, it can detect the lilacs in a neighbor’s yard two doors down. With the windows closed. This sometimes-blessing has a flip side in that it also can identify a full diaper from as far away. But I’m losing it. This baking season, the aromas have lost their strength. I barely noticed the hint of cinnamon wafting from the oven or the fresh pine of the greens on the mantel. I’ve even started to hand the milk jug to my husband and ask, “Does this smell okay?” A Weber would never have to […]