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It happens nearly every time. Every time the steroid levels get high and the oxygen level to my brain gets low. The tether which binds My Soul to My Body loosens — and off I go. Floating back gently to The Place.
I’m not sure if it’s an effect of mild hypoxia or if prednisone is akin to hallucinogenics. The why of it is not important. The how of it is not important.
What is important is this — it happens.
In those moments of disconnect, I am given a most precious gift: Perspective.
I understand in the most personal terms — I am NOT My Body. This long-suffering vessel who has carried me through nearly sixty years of My Life patiently, lovingly, with great kindness — is just that. A Vessel. A Most Precious Vessel.
There have been many years when I did not appreciate her. I did not see the gifts she gave me. I did not love her as I should.
As I grew older and more compassionate — I slowly began to appreciate her. We became friends — at last — she and I. Just as we both were. We made Peace with each other.
I began to listen to her and cherish her insights.
She is much stronger and wiser than I thought — when I was younger and more arrogant. Back in the days when I believed she should be ‘just so’. A certain look, a certain weight, a certain shape.
