Surviving

Feeling the warmth of the sun on a cloudy day. A glimpse into a blind billy goat's unique, ever changing perspectives.

2017 06 14 Journal Excerpt: Page 28 June 14, 2017

The ability to use my computer is such a big part of my life. It has been since 1995 really, and although a lot has changed since then, it has continued to be something that I rely on to stay in touch with people, and also to continue to discover a world of writing that has opened my eyes to so many new things, both about me, and around me.

I can’t imagine where I’ll be 20 years from now, but I know for a fact that there’s only one way to find out.

What? You don’t know? You want to know?

You better get moving then. Grin

Deon

***

I was introduced to Mike Adams in mid December, 2011. He was to be my new assistive technology tutor. It seems that Steve Sawczyn had landed a huge opportunity with Target. He was hired to revamp their website structure, making it more accessible to the visually impaired community. Their headquarters is out in Minneapolis, St. Paul, and he was traveling back and forth throughout the winter months, and has since moved out to the area permanently. I did feel a little let down when I heard the news that he would no longer be my pc tutor, but Mike stepped in and restored my sense of direction as far as my computer skills was concerned.

I was still using System Access back in December, and Mike instantly told me that he thought I would be better off with Jaws, than System Access.

Back when I was at the Center, I had a meeting with the head of the Technology Department, when it was thought that I would be returning sometime in early 2011 for an extensive course on office skills. I was told back then that I would probably be the only one in the program that would be using the system access screen reader. It was just not common place like Jaws, and I would have to have a separate instructional program designed around my screen reader. I was not comfortable with this option back then, and I was very anxious when Mike Adams told me that I had the option of switching over to the Jaws Screen Reader program. I gladly said that I would really like to switch over, so the order was put in motion, and I started the waiting game.

I never did get to go to the office skills program at the center, as I was told that it would probably be just as good for me to receive home tutoring through the division, instead of through the Carroll Center.

I think back now, and wish I would have had the chance to go to the program in Newton. At the time, I really did not want to leave home again for a long period, as I did in the fall. It would have still been winter, and I could not consciously leave in a good frame of mind knowing that the snow and all that goes along with winter could pose all kinds of problems for Lynne while I was gone.

That bothered me to no end.

So it was decided that I would stick with the home tutoring in the meantime. I was told that I would be just as well off with the training at home, as I would be taught the same platforms, and it should be just as extensive a program as the Carroll Center’s would have been.

Looking back, I know for a fact that I didn’t receive anywhere near the same intense training that I would have gotten in Mass, and am reluctant to think that I am just as well off today without it, and with the training that I did receive here at home.

One thing is for sure, I didn’t receive any substantial pc skills training while enrolled in the center’s independent living program, and I was very disappointed with this. One of the things I figured was that at the least, I would come home with some acquired assistive technology skills that I could continue to build on. Fact is, other than practicing touch typing, there was no real pc teaching, which left me scratching my head. I know that the office skills program would have done great things with my pc skills, but my expetations going into the 8 week program were let down completely in this respect.

Through my time with him, Mike taught me Windows, JAWS, MS Office programs, Windows Explorer and the internet. One thing about assistive technology, it changes every day, as does the accessibility of everything it comes in contact with. What works today might not work tomorrow, and vice – versa. If you think you have it figured out, wait a minute and you’ll figure out that you were wrong, or they were wrong, or it was wrong, or everything is horribly wrong and they’re all out to get you.

Really though, it feels like that some days, as the learning never ends, even though you don’t feel like learning on that particular day.

Mike and I figured out a few things, worked through a few things, made notes on a few things, and through it all, a brand new world introduced itself to me. Was I ready for this new thing? This was, strangely so, the same thing that I had loved to do, back when my eyes worked. This was the same thing that I played with, figured with, fought with, had fun with and missed greatly. Having to learn it all over again from a new perspective sort of pissed me off. Matter of fact, it really pissed me off to no end! Still does some days, but it is what it is.

I just got one of my random, out of the blue, wildly illustrated mental images of a pair of white gloved cartoon hands reaching down and typing on the keypad. Strange? You betcha. These mental snapshots and quick vids have been happening a lot these past couple months. Looney Toons gone horribly astray.

Anyway, I’m back.

Where were we? Oh ya. Mike Adams.

Mike and I worked together through the fall of 2011, and into early winter. At the end of this learning stretch, Mike told me during one meeting that he figured he had taught me all that he could, and there was really no reason to continue the lessons. I felt a little confused with his comments, mainly because I felt in no way as if I was ready to go tackle the digital world on my own. Fact is, it really scared me to think that I wouldn’t have him coming every two weeks to iron out the problems I had come across with using digital access.

That was one of those moments where I wanted to change what was happening, but it was out of my control.

Learn and live, or was it live and learn? I wasn’t sure, but I moved on none the less.

To be continued…

 

2017 06 13: Journal Excerpt Page 27 June 13, 2017

When something is out of your control, it can be frustrating to no end, especially when it messes with your plans. I’ve had a plan or two impacted greatly with circumstances beyond my control, and as I would shake my head and curse under my breath, I began to understand and learn the significance of patience and understanding. I’ll tell you right now that I’m still learning, and still do get flustered from time to time, but like I said, none of it is in my control.

If my frustrations are caused by me, then that’s a completely different learning experience.
Grin

Go after it, grab it, live it and learn from it. This life of yours wouldn’t want it any other way.

Deon

***

Page 27

Winter continued to roll on through Christmas and the first of 2011. Early in February, I had the privilege of being invited to attend a jobs workshop put on by the Division of the blind in Augusta. Leona was very excited, and when she got excited, so did I.

The first two days of the workshop had me wondering what in hell was going on. The two facilitators seemed to hate the Governor, and made sure that everyone taking the workshop knew about it. They were very unprofessional, and I was left thinking that maybe this was not going to be such a good workshop. The second day of the event, we were supposed to get a storm that afternoon, lasting right through the next day, so they cancelled the classes for the next day, and let us out early that second afternoon. On that second day, Leona came in during a meal break, and sat to talk with me. Apparently she could sense the frustration in my voice as we talked, and later that night, called me to discuss it.

She asked me, and I let into her about how totally perplexed I was by the situation, and did not know how anyone would benefit from the workshop.

She pulled me out of the workshop, and I took it again the next month, which was in March. I am not sure if these two facilitators still do the workshops, but if they do, I pity the participants.

The major event cancelling storm came and went, and the sun was out by nine o’clock that next morning, which was said to be the morning of the biggest storm mankind had ever seen. It was a fairly harmless storm. These days were not going to be able to be made up, so we were going to have to try and squeeze in the work into two fewer days. The facilitators seemed that they wanted to call off that next day in some sort of rebellious tone against the Governor, who had came out and said that if you live in Maine, you should be able to drive in the snow, especially if you had lived here for very long. This particularly seemed to frustrate these state workers, as no Governor that they didn’t vote for was going to tell them when to not take a snow day. It was a pitiful display of spoiled childish behavior, and I was very glad that Leona pulled me out of the workshop. When I took the second workshop, there were people taking the second one who had also been pulled from the first one.

The next event in March was done with professionalism by two facilitators that showed passion and expertise in the materials, and in the way they facilitated the week’s events. I benefitted greatly from the lessons. I still keep in touch with one of the facilitators.

The helper that was assigned to me for the event was Sharon Pottle. She provided the transportation and helped me with reading the printed work in the workshop. We hit it off rather well, and had some wonderful discussions during the half hour trips there and home.

The winter seemed to fly by, although it also seemed longer than the other seasons I had just come through. I missed so many things about the winter. I missed watching the snow fall. I missed being able to drive in the snow. I missed being able to use my snow blower to create the dog paths out in the back yard. I used to love walking the dogs outside after I had finished clearing the paths. It was just so clean and neat looking, and I loved watching them run through the paths. I miss being able to see the turkeys out back by the corn field scratching at the dirt. I missed being able to see the trees after an ice storm. I miss the look of branches laden with ice. I missed so many things about the winter. It was still there, but it just seemed so far away. Sort of like looking at things through a display window at a department store, but not being able to touch the items. Winter seemed to be just out of my reach, along with so many other things.

To be continued…

 

2017 06 03 Journal Excerpt: Page 17 June 3, 2017

O&M, (orientation and mobility), was a crucial ingredient of my rehab, and of the rest of my life. This mind altering, anxiety building, emotion forcing tool proved to be a new window into my new world. It was a necessity that was brought on by my vision loss. Vision. Boy does that word have a ton of definition. I never realized it fully until I lost it, but did I?

I write a lot about O&M because I felt a lot of it, experienced a lot of it and learned a great deal from it.

Well, that’s about enough of that, and here’s some more of this.
Have a great day, and thanks.
Deon

***

Page 17

My mobility instructors name was Heather, and I thought that we hit it off ok. She had a raspy voice that could not be mistaken for anything other than her. She had a good sense of humor and it showed. I found myself growing quite fond of her, even though she continued to boot my ass all over the campus and the town for that matter.

One of the first lessons we had was to go to what they called Newton Center, or Newtonville, which was a fairly busy part of the town. Little did I know what I was getting into as I had never experienced anything quite like what I was about to go through.

We walked to the busy side of one of the blocks and she proceeded to tell me to go find CVS and buy a pack of gum and then come back out. I walked down the entire length of the block figuring that I would be able to find the store front on sight alone. Man oh man was I ever wrong. This would be the first of many times that my crappy vision would play tricks on me.

After walking back and forth along the block, I came to the stark reality that I would not be able to do this on my own. I didn’t know what to do. I was mystified and baffled and felt all alone in a strange town in a strange state. A state of confusion was more like it. I was honestly as humbled as I had ever been in my life.

After what seemed like 4 hours, I finally figured out that I did need assistance and it was up to me and only me to get it. So I did.

I asked the first person, the first shadow I noticed walking by and they assisted me to the front of the store. I did manage to walk in and make it to the sales counter. I could see well enough to know where I was inside the store and managed to purchase a pack of gum. It felt strangely wonderful, and at the same time I was terrified as hell.

I made it out to the front of the store and reunited with Heather. I felt a little cocky as to why she had given me such a simple task. We then proceeded to walk back around the corner to the car. Along the way I managed to mistake a car on the side of the road as a car in a parking lot. I walked around to the right of the car and proceeded to walk right out into the road. Heather managed to grab hold of me and pull me back onto the sidewalk. She composed herself and asked where in hell I thought I was going? I had no clue what I was doing or the danger I was putting myself in. Once again I wanted to go home and wake up from the horrible nightmare.

When we finally made it back to the car, I broke down and lost my composure. I felt completely chewed up and spat out. I felt like I was a completely lost soul with no hope of ever finding a way out of this mess that I was in. Helpless, hopeless and useless is the best description I can come up with. Those are 12 step slogans and boy did they fit my mental state at that moment.
Once again I had beaten myself up, after I had been told that I shouldn’t beat myself up. I was very hard on myself for the predicament I had let myself get into. I was a lost cause in my mind and I needed help.

Heather was as cool as a cucumber. She told me everything I needed to hear and quite a bit of the stuff I didn’t want to hear. They were for the most part, one in the same.

I grew rather close to her that day. She was able to pull me back from the pummeling I was giving myself. She was able to reassure me that I was right where I needed to be and that part of the learning process was the figuring out the mistakes and errors. There were going to be a whole slew of them for sure. I didn’t disagree. I couldn’t.

Those first few mobility lessons were a drastic step sideways for me. They weren’t forward, nor were they backwards. They were exactly what I needed to get my bearings and helped me set the tone for my rehabilitation in the next coming weeks. I hated the days when I had Heather’s classes, and the other days, well, I hated them a little less.

To be continued…

 

2017 05 27: Poetry, Sweep May 27, 2017

Learning how to use the long, white cane was one of the toughest tasks I have ever taken on. The more I learned, the deeper the reality dug in. I am fortunate to have had such a great instructor, and as the lessons continue to come at me through the course of the days, I realize that she was preparing me for the rest of my life.

This poem touches on some of those emotions, those anxious moments, those stepping stones that helped me reach this day, today.,

I’ll be back tomorrow for another journal excerpt, but for now, well, here’s hoping you have a great night.

Deon

***

Sweep
Written 09 29 2012

I grab my cane and sweep along, not sure of where to go
Shadowed lights and dull grayed scenes dot the void along my way
I listen for a clue, a hint, a reminder of where I would like to be
Stray reminders of yesterday’s innuendoes echo through my cluttered memory

Sweeping aside a dark, never ending world, tomorrow comes again
Tap aside the daggered edges of yesterday’s haunting whispers
Spirits lift me up and out of the chains of a coal black, midnight noon
A chorus of invisible lullabies keeps my dreams just out of reach

A question of mind, a hopeful stare, a passing plea for patience
Unseen ripples reflect from a stone cast from an unfamiliar shore
Friendly voices from hidden smiles lend a hand with welcomed comfort
Uneasy feelings tug at emotions that were never felt before

A heart pounds from deep within a core of fiery red
Passion for life bravely beats back the barrage of darkened foe
The staff, the motion, the sweeping steps, the screaming spirit within
Glowing through midnight’s plight, embers of my mourning lead me home

 

2017 05 26: Journal Post Page 9 May 26, 2017

This next excerpt was written in mid May, 2011. I know that a lot of the things in these posts are repeated, but I also know that the rise and fall of my emotions also were very repetitive during those days. It didn’t take much to set me off, and it seemed the more I cursed and cried, the more I realized just how hard I would need to work, because this new life just wouldn’t let go of me.

And the struggle to learn continued.

Happy Friday to you all, and I hope you get to smile today.

Deon

***

Page 9

As I look back to that point in my life I am faced head on with the reality that the person that I was, the person that I used to be has been laid to rest. The person that was looking back at me in the mirror has taken the baggage that used to weigh me down and left town. I can honestly say that I am glad he left. Now don’t get me wrong. He will surely pop in from time to time like an unwanted relative. I can not afford to let him stay in the guest room for not even one night. I can not afford to feed this unwanted guest any more. He can not be let in the front door any more.

I still am not comfortable in my skin, but I am starting to get to know the other guy that is surely staring back at me in the mirror. I can take my time to get to know this new person. I shed the skin of a complacent, non driven soul. I said goodbye to the sight, and welcomed the new vision. I have said on many occasions that I had to lose my sight so that I could see. I believe that more and more every day.

The long days of summer did seem to take a toll on me as the time dragged by. It is funny how slow the days seem to go, but then the week was done and it seemed to have flown by so incredibly fast. A perpetual blur.

July turned into August and I hardly even noticed. Summer had always been the highlight of my year, but with everything else that was going on, well, I just didn’t even notice it.

One day Lynne led me out to the garden so we could check on things as they grew. I had put so much effort into the garden that June. It made me mad as hell not being able to see how it was doing. I had always loved watching the garden grow. It was just so soothing and relaxing to me.

Well Lynne sat me down in a lawn chair as she walked through the garden. She was describing it to me as she started weeding the lower portions where the broccoli and turnip were.

I knew that the corn was in front of me. I could see a small glimpse of the hip high stalks swaying with the breeze. It was a warm day, as so many of those days in July and August seemed to be.

I got out of the chair and down on my knees. I then crawled to where the rows of corn started, and started weeding. It felt so strange, yet so wonderful to get my hands in the dirt and start pulling weeds. I had just finished weeding the garden the weekend of the 4th when I had the series of strokes that did me in. I had worked so hard weeding the onions and carrots. The carrots. Man was it hard weeding the carrots. I hated to have to, but felt so good when the row was all done.

I did manage to weed through the first two rows of corn. Lynne stood up and hollered at me. I guess she couldn’t believe that I was attempting to weed. Attempting? Hell, I was a weeding fool. The only thing was that I wasn’t really sure if I was pulling just weeds and not the corn also. She quickly informed me that I was indeed weeding just the corn. I made it through the entire two rows and only pulled 5 or 6 stalks of corn. I was shocked and amazed at how good I did. I felt good. I felt better than I had felt in quite some time. It was as though I had proven my worth for the first time since my vision loss. I had regained a taste of my independence, and it felt truly wonderful.

I don’t ever want to forget how good that day felt to me. I want to bottle those emotions and take them out on days when I am having a hard time. I need to be able to never forget how simple and easy it was to turn around my outlook on everything. I wanted my life back. I wanted it back in the worst way.

Those first few days in August were some of the most important of my life. I had a sense that things were starting to happen in my life. I was overwhelmed at times with the onslaught of being blind, but it didn’t seem to feel as hopeless as it had during those long dark days in July.

I was still in close contact with Leona and she continued to reassure me that everything was going to be ok. Somehow I knew it would be, just by the way she told me that it would be. I trusted her with everything I had. With everything I have. It was crucial that I took her positivity and ran with it. I needed an excuse to feel confident, and she was it.

I did finally meet Steve Sawczyn and Rosemary Houghton in those early days in August. I was so impressed with Steve that I can’t even begin to tell you. Now I should tell you that he has been blind since birth, and his accomplishments through his career as an assistive technology instructor have done nothing but grow. Everything he had, I wanted. The confidence, the intelligence, the savvy, the self assurance, all of it. I wanted it all.

I also met, as I said, Rosemary, She gave me a certain level of confidence that I desperately lacked. I knew that the orientation and mobility lessons with her would be some of the most grueling experiences that I had ever encountered. I was right, and this time I hated being right.

The first couple of lessons were very strange. I felt sort of cocky and that bothered me. I could not afford to be cocky in the least. I now look back and realize that I was showing off to her the fact that I could still see, even though it was a small sliver in my right outer peripheral, which was similar to looking through wax paper at dusk. I wanted her to feel that she was wasting her time with my lessons. I didn’t need them, not in the least. I could still see. I could still get around on my own. I could still have a brain transplant too, because nothing was ever further from the truth.

The fact is, I was blind. The fact is, I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face. The fact is, I needed help. I couldn’t do this on my own, and that scared the hell out of me. It scared me completely. I was completely scared beyond any doubt. Did I mention that I was also scared? Walking around with a long white cane made me more aware of my disability than any other thing. I knew that when the long white cane was in my hands and I was trying to stay on the sidewalk, that I was completely vulnerable. I was completely humbled by my new existence. I was ashamed, scared, humiliated, embarrassed, mad, pissed off, frustrated, and about 400 other internal emotions. I was in fact a blind man walking with a cane, because I was blind. I was a blind man walking on the streets of Waterville Maine in early August, 2010, and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like it at all, and there was nothing I could do to change it. Nothing. I could accept it though. I could accept the fact that I was willing to acknowledge my disability and ask for help. I was willing to start fresh and learn what I needed to learn about what had happened to me, and what I needed to do to learn to live with it. I wanted to learn how to learn to accept what I had lost, and look for things that I could learn so that I could start to live again.

I realized that it was going to be a long hard struggle, and I kept telling myself that I was going to see it through. No matter what, I was going to see it through. I owed it to myself, I owed it to my wife. I owed it to my son, and my grandson, and my folks and siblings. Most of all, I owed it to myself. I said that already, right?

I was the recipient of the fruits of my labor, and I sure as hell needed a chance.

Those first few mobility lessons were an eye opener for me of sorts. Never had I laid my heart and soul out there for all to see like that.

To be continued…

 

2017 05 08 Essay, Poem: Timepiece May 8, 2017

Hey everyone.

Something that I should have done right after finishing high school is to go to college. I didn’t go to college. Fact is, I dropped out of high school during my senior year. Yup. Fraid so.

I had a few distractions going on in my life back then. Man, was that back then. Damn near forty years ago. Anyway, I did manage to go to night school in my mid twenties, and after a little studying, coupled with a little testing, I was presented with my diploma. Holding that certificate in my hands was a weird feeling. It was as if I had finally caught up to where I was supposed to be.

Thirty something or so years later, I stepped onto the campus at KVCC. A much older man was I, and the visions I had were made up of unfamiliar and unexpected exhilaration.

I was met head on with so many variables that once again, it felt like I was trying to catch up. The powerful surges of electricity soon did catch up to me , and as the tides of excitement and inspiration rose in through the narrows, I realized that it was being harnessed and distributed from a group of four people who spent much of their day generating the source of motivation and inspiration, but they also had a very unique talent that enabled them to gather, enrich and redistribute that energy out into the student body that they represented, that they represent, that they will always strive to be a part of.

This post is dedicated to the cornerstone of my experience at KVCC. They are four of the most devoted individuals I have ever had the chance to work with, to look up to, to gain higher ground with. They are TRiO, and words will never be able to express my gratitude for how they have helped me, and how they have helped those who have walked towards them.

Lisa Black, Portland Wright, Michelle Gaines and Nick Runco. You are the four markers that represent a true path to achievement. I thank you all with as much humility and grace as I can.

Nicholas? You are my commander of text, my mentor of adventure, my guardian angel of digital motivation. Thank you sir, and thank you ladies for a source of inspiration that has reached out to so many.

The following poem is dedicated to you all, and in particular, Lisa Black. I haven’t had the chance to work with you, but from what I have heard from some of the other students, you, my dear, are a gift to those who cross your path.

The following poem is my attempt to describe what I have seen, heard, felt and experienced these past 2 years as a member of the TRiO program at KVCC.

Hats off to you four, and congratulations to those who will wear the caps and gowns this spring. It’s been an honor to walk the halls with you, and as I wish you all the very best, somehow, it’s fairly evident to me that this next chapter in your lives will bring you the experiences that dreams are made of.

Can you hear that? It’s a very reliable timepiece ticking away. It represents all of you, continuing to make your mark, continuing to create your future, one tick at a time.

Hats off to you all, and I gratefully accept your inspiration.

Deon

Timepiece

The semester is over
The classrooms are bare
Familiar sound drifts down the hall
A phone is heard ringing
At the North end of King
Someone quickly answers the call

Preparations have started
Plans have begun
New students are shown where to turn
Timid eyes gaze
At a welcoming smile
Inquisitive minds start to learn

With wide open eyes, a student begins
Affirmations of body and mind
KVCC TRiO quietly make their mark
A union like no other kind

A team stands waiting
A vision is cast
The students’ dreams are revealed
One by one
The yearning takes shape
A plan of success becomes sealed

New bonds are built
Friendships are born
Foundations are laid brick by brick
Weeks turn to months
Caps and gowns march by
As the timepiece continues to tick

Inspiration is born from where it began.
The tutor, the mentor, the friend
TRiO is formed from a vision of heart
A passion that time cannot bend

Dedicated to the incredible KVCC TRiO staff
Without your guidance, help and support, where would we be?

dp
Spring 2017

 

2017 05 07 Essay: Lessons May 7, 2017

I’ve had some lessons in my life. It’s safe to say that we all have. The thing to think about is how well we learn from our lessons. Now, if you’re like me these days, it might take a couple run throughs before the lesson fully sinks in where it can do some good. It’s not that I don’t want to learn, it’s that for a grand host of reasons, my soggy mush melon doesn’t retain things as good as it used to. I blame it on acquiring large quantities of cheap drugs, a closed head trauma, not enough chocolate and I’m fairly certain that there’s a few other reasons, but for the life of me, I, well, you get the picture.

Our lives are a constant barrage of one lesson after another. The do’s, the don’ts, the should have’s and the what the hell were you thinking’s. They all blend in seamlessly to produce a life like sculpture of ourselves.

Instruction manuals always seem to get lost, misplaced or thrown away. A lesson though, I mean a real good unforgettable lesson never leaves our sides. It’s always there to throw hints at us, remind us, guide us and sometimes give us something to laugh about, for humor always has an element of truth in it, and humility is as good a teacher as any lesson can provide.

Anyway, what we learn through life is a huge part of who we become. Some of my most embarrassing moments in life are also the strongest lessons I have learned. It seems the more the lessons let loose my emotions, the deeper they sink into my soul to mold future reactions to certain things. The phrase I use often is absorb, adapt and advance. Boy how that holds so much truth, which makes it nearly impossible to ignore, or forget.

When I woke up this morning, I was blind, still, again, and also. I enjoyed several moments during the day when I actually forgot that I can’t see. Those moments don’t last long, but they are pieces of my day that I embrace with deep respect. I’ve learned more lessons these past seven years than any other period in my life, and the learning continues each waking day.

Those lessons of our childhood are also made of the lessons that stand with us throughout our lives. Tie your shoes, look both ways before crossing the road, don’t talk with your mouth full, keep your eye on the ball, there’s so many of them that stick with you without even trying to remember them. Common sense can also provide great tutoring, but it isn’t a constant source that we can always rely on, for we, as unique individuals sway to and fro with our abilities that vary from one day to the next.

Our judgment is built on experience, which involves common sense and instinct. Is instinct a natural thing, or have we learned it along the way? Perhaps it is a combination of different elements of life that swirls around us, or perhaps we were born with the instincts and we don’t realize we have them until a situation calls for those inborn characteristics to show themselves.

Boy I’m getting spun around with all of this. I’ve taken a psychology class at school, a few sociology classes, and a couple humanities courses. They all weave in and out amongst themselves to help define who we are, and how we react, use and manipulate the lessons we have been afforded along the way. And oh what a way we have, with all of it.

I have learned a lesson with this essay, as I have with just about every other essay I have written. The hidden lessons, the ones with built in reactions, the ones that catapult our instincts to new heights, these lessons, the ones similar to the one I have learned while typing this written piece, you can never correctly put a value on the lessons we discover along the roads that build our stories. The truest lessons of all will forever remain a priceless piece of who we are.

Who says you can’t teach an old goat new tricks?

Take the lessons of your lives and feel the urge to learn. The energy found deep inside will totally amaze you.

Thanks for stopping by, and do take care.

dp