and so he said…

c’est la vie

“I move through each day with a body that changes like the weather.
MS drawing new borders beneath my skin, rewriting strength in quiet ways.
My legs sometimes feel like distant rooms in a house I once lived in,
places I remember clearly, even when they no longer answer my call.

Yet I rise in a different way now… not on muscle, but on motion.
not on bone, but on the steady hum of the chair that carries me forward.
My powerchair becomes my legs, my balance, my grounded rhythm,
a companion that refuses to let the world shrink around me.

People may see wheels before they see will,
but I know the truth that lives beneath the surface of each day.
This chair is not surrender… it’s momentum, autonomy,
a way of saying that my life still moves, still widens, still reaches.

I roll through narrow corridors, alogng uneven paths, and shifting doubts,
feeling the quiet courage that grows when the body falters but the spirit holds.
My wheels become my steps, my way of meeting the world head-on,
my reminder that movement can take many shapes and still be mine.

And in that motion, I find a hope that doesn’t fade…
a hope built on adaptation, on stubbornness, on the simple truth
that I am still here, still moving, still claiming my place,
carried not by what I’ve lost, but by what I continue to become.”