Motion, movement, momentum, muscle memory… I am a woman on the move. I’ve always been active and more than a bit competitive. I’m driven. But I’m fearful too.
The first time I lost my momentum, I was twelve. I was in sixth grade and I dropped to floor one night in December with intense vertigo. I spent the next several months on my back, getting scans, visiting doctors and psychologists about the dizzying numbness and intense fatigue that had hit and seemed wouldn’t leave. Everything was inconclusive.
The words Multiple Sclerosis now explain that strange period and the others that followed, giving a name to the fear of lost motion, a break in my stride. A woman known for her purposeful walk, her powerful swift pace, her high energy– who would I be if those were no longer mine?
I would still be funny and kind. I would still be loving and loved. I would still be Sarah Josephine. I know that. But Sarah Josephine would change just enough to make me uncomfortable. I want to keep moving.
So I do. I cannot control the future but I can choose my path. I can influence my surroundings. I can accept and embrace the journey and all its obstacles and opportunities.
I am a woman on the move. And I keep on moving because I can, with faith in every footstep and gratitude in every breath.