begin again


  • The ancient Egyptians held to the notion that in death, one is weighed and measured by the events of the departed life. And though I am yet dead, I wonder what their scales would say about me.

I live now on a daily basis in some semblance of pain. On account of the condition which affects my nervous system, even walking some days is too much. However, I am persuaded each day to get up and keep going by the sheer reality that each day I still have life. And I regard that life to be a gift.

Hence, to be thankful, I can see no other way but to give back. There’s no point in living long if one isn’t living well. And to live well, I think you have to do what is right and just and good, for others and for yourself.

At my age, being told that I’ll have to live with a potentially debilitating disease sharpens so much into focus. And one such thing that I now see all too clearly is that sometimes, in order to keep going, we must first begin again.

Because if I am to be weighed and measured, I should hope that I will not be found wanting.

x. G

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