Nathaniel Fisher: You hang on to your pain like it means something. Like it's worth something. Well, let me tell you - it's not worth shit. Let it go! Infinite possibilities, and all he can do is whine. David Fisher: Well, what am I supposed to do? Nathaniel Fisher: What do you think? You can do *anything*, you lucky bastard - you're alive! What's a little pain compared to that? David Fisher: It can't be that simple. Nathaniel Fisher: What if it is?
It becomes easy to think of how finite my possibilities have become because of the things that I cannot do. For instance, today is when I would have met with the writing critique group to go over four more pages of my poetry. However, we have four days of rain forecasted for this week and today is only day two. Factor in that I also had my acupuncture today and I suspect the best thing for me to do is be conservative with my energy. There is so much coming up this weekend for which I will need to be as strong as possible.So I don't feel infinite possibilities and yet . . . and yet I'm alive. What's more, I haven't been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis or told that I have a tumor which is why I am now dizzy. I could be facing so much more, so much worse, than simply not knowing why I have vertigo. In many ways I do have infinite possibilities. I mean, my body is limited in what it can do and while I may not be able to go rock climbing or even hike through the woods I can still sit outside in my own back yard and consciously experience fresh air and the sound of the wind shuffling through the leaves. I am not in a coma. I am not brain dead. I am still very much alive. It can't be that simple? Isn't it always that simple?