Wednesday, 15 March 2017

Not knowing

Here's me, one year ago, with my bushwalking boots off, airing out my stinky feet, and admiring the view from the Acropolis, one of the most spectacular and precipitous mountain summits in Tasmania. Back when I was full of health, my mitochondria worked perfectly, and my glands didn't ache every day.

If you'd told me a year ago I'd be sick for a whole year, I would have been been devastated. 

But if you told me today I'd only be sick for another year, I would be overjoyed. 

Not knowing if this sickness will ever end, is perhaps one of the hardest things. 

There's no end in sight. 

But we all dwell in uncertainty. 

In its blessings and it's curses. 

(The good news is that I haven't had to wear shoes for almost a year! 

And I can still admire the mountains, feel the breeze on my skin and get lost in the evening skyscape. 

This, incidentally, is the view from the back deck of my house last night. )

Don't know what I'd do if I didn't live in Hobart 

No comments:

Post a Comment