Jun 08

The Bad Neighbor

A YOGI’S JOURNEY WITH PARKINSON’S – Volume 11

In my blogging process, I have stopped myself more than a few times as I began writing about my “battle” or my “fight” with Parkinson’s Disease. A few of these occurrences may have slipped past my passive editing, but for the most part I have avoided these descriptors on purpose.

While doubtful that either this humble yogi or my affliction will concede our conflicting intentions any time soon, I am choosing NOT to be in constant combat mode. Instead, I intend to treat the Parkinson’s as I would a bad neighbor with whom I am forced to coexist. Even when I can’t control the un-neighborly events that befall me, I can control my responses.

There will surely be times when my neighbors’ unrelenting and uncaring obnoxiousness gets under my skin (literally) or (worse) into my head, shattering my intention of non-violent resistance. Hopefully, these times will be the exception, not the norm.

“Having Parkinson’s must mess with your head. Don’t you get pissed?” interjected a third party in an otherwise pleasant conversation.

“What good would that do?” was my retort.

Perhaps it is this equanimity (sometimes admittedly faked) that has people doing a double take when they see me. In this world of short attention spans where people expect immediate results (good or bad) I get the feeling that some expect my imminent demise (not out of hurtful intent, but perhaps out of morbid curiosity).

Others see room for humor and lightness. Like the friend who saw me for the first time after knowing of my affliction asked, “How’s it shaking?”

Be WELL!

“Clouds come floating into my life, no longer to carry rain or usher storm, but to add color to my sunset sky” …Rabindranath Tagore

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DISCLAIMER: The views expressed on this site are my opinions. My words should not be taken as a substitute for qualified medical expertise. This blog is designed to chronicle my journey, share what I learn in the process, and connect with others on a similar path.

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The idealist withdrew himself because he could not suffer the jostling of the human crowd; He had not the strength to fight & so called the battle vulgar

~ W. Somerset Maugham