Holding on to Hope

I try my hardest always to hang onto hope, whatever the circumstance is. The only way I can carry on is to believe in a better day, and when all seems dark, I look to the stars of the night. In my mind I can be anything, despite having a body that doesn’t work. I paint the sunshine of my imagination on the ceiling when the world seems quite dreary, or the rain hitting the leaves of the forest that is my World of One Room.

This has been the coping mechanism that has stayed with me for the past decade, banishing the darkness that is ill health. It has led me to thrive in my brightest days and has comforted me in my darkest or most frustrated ones. It has helped me live despite four walls being my existence. However, the moment I started to improve and escape my boundaries, by being able to go to the wheelchair and touch the precious notes of my piano, the harder it became. In my World of One Room, I knew every aspect of it. There were no expeditions that I hadn’t been on, I could picture every part of it – nothing was left unfound.

Now things are changing, there are more avenues and places for me to find again, even if it is just two extra rooms and a garden to explore! Yet, I still spend a lot of time in my one room, and when I am there, I find it hard to lay still because there is whole new area for me to discover. My body stops me, and peace of mind is harder to find, as I now know what is out there and I want to just be out there! Today, through my pain ridden body, I’m just looking at the stars.