I remind myself that this blog is not a best friend who lives across the country. This is not a place where catching up is something to be expected or even necessary. This place – this safe creative exploratory special place – is for sharing and connecting about the present and the current and the whatever that needs to spill out of my brain. I remind myself I can begin smack dab in the middle of the chapter.

Chapter 752: there has been great progress. Progress. A word we most frequently use to express a positive movement forward. A pinpoint of light that has finally decided to reveal itself at the end of a tunnel. The finish line slowly creeping closer minute by minute. An advancement that shaves off hours of wasted work time or gets us closer to a cure. There is beauty in progress. Usually.

Turns out, progress is a word that could use some finessing. In the exclusive club of MS, this is a word that elicits fear and loathing. A backpedal of epic proportions that can make families sink to their knees and the bravest of women slam straight into their first encounter with dread.

Over the past couple of years, my life has changed dramatically. I have found love and acceptance at a level I never truly believed existed. I have found myself thrown into the center of an enormous family who in its entirety, hugs its arms around me as if I have always been there. I have found safety and a sense of belonging. I have found a partner who understands me and reminds me that I am not a burden. I am a gift.

At the same time, my disease is progressing. I am fully aware that this progress is slow and normal and manageable and minor when considering the whole of it all. But there is progress and with MS progress it is hard to avoid the sinking to the knees and the inevitable wall of dread. I have been trying to move through those feelings – sit with them as in meditation – embracing them and letting them go. But to be honest, for the first time in many years they keep making a U-turn. It has been a struggle.

But this morning I abruptly experienced a shift. Something different. A sense of progress. I woke up this morning in Washington near Mt. Rainier – alone in a cabin with a perfect cup of coffee while my husband and stepson hike and explore. I am on a deck surrounded by forest and sunlight and silence and it has brought me to my knees in the opposite way. It is as if the woods and the quiet are whispering my brain back into gratitude. Nature and its purest magic nudging me toward that so badly needed new perspective. In my short history with this disease, there is one thing I know. MS is a beast; but it is also a teacher, a mentor, a truth seeker and a gift giver.

If I felt I had the ability to hike today I wouldn’t be sitting here wrapped in peace and acceptance. I wouldn’t get to experience the powerful urge to write that I have been so desperately craving. I wouldn’t be taking the time to cradle this moment of creativity and solace.

I have found a new perspective and I am reminded that progress does not have to be a burden. Progress can be a gift.

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