One prays for the freedom to hop and jump, the joy of calling your body your own, the love of life's activities. The hope is to be one of the active ones who effortlessly pass as we struggle our short way. How fortunate those runners are, yet they know it not. From the outside the easy movement of a world in motion is observed, and as the disparity is noticed the alienation sets in (and the world will help you remember your strangeness). But to be locked out is still to be somewhere and upon examination the cell is not as bare as all that.
Within your little world you find the universe. Each emotion is there, but not all the occasions to elicit it; each hope is there, but not the easy means of satisfaction; each need is there, yet not the easy access. Yet there is more inside than out. For as you die to much that is physical, you awake to much that is human. As the body becomes chained, the mind becomes unfettered. Kindness and concern mark dealings with others, and thankfulness for this day on earth marks your time. Joy and gratitude can be seen in the bluing sky. A reversal has taken place and your orientation is more of the mind than the body. As a prisoner who has nowhere to go, you go inward and see a country many are too busy to notice--and feel the importance of others as others never do. Your country is different, but just as rich. Under the same sky and on the same earth there are two realms of being. You began longing for the lost country for you knew no other. Now you live in your land and await the medical bridge. But at bottom the lands are one.
At bottom we are all of this earth. If many of life's chores become problematic, much that is of this life becomes revealed. We become aware of more of life by being chronically involved in the simple living of it. Not of society--yet perhaps more truly social--we are locked out of much and for that reason much is open. Constantly reminded of our mortality we become a little more humane. Divorced from the easy ride, a life of blood and tears is created. With a waning physical existence, a mental life is developed, and with luck this land is passed through and another shore reached. For there is still another threshold, and one approaches the key to the spirit.
James Russello
Jim Russello and his wife Judith were both afflicted with acute Multiple Sclerosis.