Saturday, 9 March 2013

My mind is my freedom

 My mind is my freedom, my body is my prison. 

 I am 56 and almost housebound, daily I find I can do less. Since the accident two years ago, walking has come to the point where I cannot walk 5  feet unaided. 

I cannot sit for long as the pains in my back are like knives on my spine and constantly send signals to move or lean forward to take the pressure off. 

  There are many things I will never do now; I wanted to get back to Yorkshire to do some research for some mysteries I found. I cannot even do that on line, nobody knows the building I am researching exists. I wanted to go to the music festivals in Cheltenham, but with a snapped tendon I cannot get on and off main line trains. 

  I am grateful that the Lord granted time to see things which I would never have thought possible, the ice fields of Northern Canada, blue storks flying wild in the summer breeze, the openness of the wild prairies of Canada. He allowed me to visit my home lands of Yorkshire for a final time, something I was trying to do for as long as I remember. 

  My body may be imprisoning me in my dark room, but my mind and soul are out on the winds of imagination, at least I have that to be thankful for.

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