Post by Pony on Aug 16, 2011 18:16:13 GMT -5
When Two Sides Are One
Really, there are two of me. A river runs between us. On one side is a prisoner confined to a small cell, only able to peer at others with freedom to walk, use their hands effortlessly to hold things, feel things, pull things, create things, and caress someone. On the other side of that river is the me that’s free of bondage, successfully graduating college, working for 17 years, drives, recorded and performed music in public and has had meaningful loving, and sexual, relationships.
The two are forever joined. One cannot survive without the other; however, the two are in a never-ending war. Not all the time, but too often the prisoner pulls the free one down, holding him down from so many things. It’s natural that the free me gets angry with the prisoner, cursing him quickly, but trying not to let him pull me to that side of the river that can only feel isolated and hurt.
After 30 years of this tumultuous relationship, I’ve learned to cut the anger short and never dwell on the prison, but I’d be lying to say it’s not there constantly. It’s not unlike someone sentenced to life in prison for a crime. In my case, the crime was getting extremely drunk and high at age 21 and driving. The choice was to either die or live with the injury that paralyzed me from chest down and limited arm muscles still functioning. The lack of good operating hands being the most confining part of this prison, but again, there’s a freedom my hands give me, too, that I’d be stupid to ignore. While my hand muscles don’t really move on command from my brain, I have learned to use them in everyday activities that, ironically, give me freedom. My hands push the chair, type the computer keyboard, drive, hold a coffee, and hold a phone and many other functions. And while they can be the focal point of frustrations, my hands are beautiful instruments that have been trained to find ways to, at least some, freedom.
You may think this physical life sentence is the worst prison you can be handed, but you’d be wrong. There’s a much worse prison when the attitude becomes the prisoner. In this situation there is no amount of physical freedom you can possess that will set you free.
Freedom is precious – even in small amounts!
lol