The intensity of the summer heat is giving way to the seemingly schizoid diversity of heat and chill composing the fall weather. Any one day may bring on the necessity of the heater and the air conditioner. The flip flop is one that is often difficult for which to prepare. Just a few days ago the fog was so thick that the morning sunlight provided only the glow in the fog, limiting visibility to only the room in which I was seated. The symbolism was suddenly striking. We become so accustomed to having what we presume to be a clear view of the landscape on which we dwell that we forget that the view of that scape is one interpreted through the vision that is generated in the mind of the beholder. There are moments in our lives when we are somewhat “blinded” to the broader perspective of our surroundings. The “habit” of looking “out there” to define our purpose, and therefore our action, becomes interrupted when we are left with the vision of only what is within our smaller space. History, both our experienced and that recorded, becomes more visible as we look deeper within the narrow surroundings. Actions taken, and reasons why serve to enlighten what we reasonably assume will be presented as opportunities when this “foggy” day dissipates. The limits of this now notorious pandemic that have been thrown upon those most vulnerable (age, health, and habits), have come upon us like the dense fog in the morning sky. Some have chosen to interpret the events as having been contrived and therefore worthy of being ignored. Navigating the fog, however, requires far greater skill than pretending it does not exist! Others feel suddenly thrown into the well-lighted presence of self where the light of past and present illuminate “self” so seemingly well one presumes that all depends on that “self” that protrudes so prominently. Thrilled with the circumstances or not, the events of late have presented us with the opportunity to get a closer look at our presumptions, to experience self and those closest to us in a different light that opens the doorway to an even richer experiences once the fog has lifted (as surely it will). The best treatment for the plague of ignorance, that can be terminal, is the embrace of knowledge that inspires us to action and is fed by the expression of gratitude.

One of the traits I have observed in my nearly three quarters of a century as a participant in this experience called life, is the embracing and engaging of behaviors easily identified as “habits”. Habits can fall into one or more of several different categories. Good habits we tend to think of as positive (good) for us whereas so-called bad habits can be detrimental to us. Often the habit itself may be good within the context of our behavioral system, but negative in its effects upon us when misused or poorly or excessively engaged. Habits often arise in the expression of “personality”. I am a hugger, which means that when seeing someone I know and appreciate, and in an environment conducive to it, I will open arms and give a warm and welcoming hug. I enjoy being close to people I know and have had little objection to being close to people I do not know if the environment seems conducive. The behaviors which have grown to be applied as normal for me are done so in a way that assumes a positive outcome of feelings of warmth and affirmation regarding others. There have been times when I am sure I have hugged someone who was infected with any number of forms of potential diseases, but either by vaccine or an active functioning immune system remained uninfected or affected by the hugging. As an unwilling (but ever growing one of acceptance) host to ever diminishing levels of dopamine leading to a multitude of symptoms that are NOT normal in the usual human experience, this host has with great difficulty, gained competence in “living with” the consequences of diminished dopamine. Add to this experience of daily frustrations in the world of PD symptoms and medication side effects, the necessary behaviors to compensate for those symptoms and effects, and the one experiencing those effects can easily fall into the mental trap of being the victim. Bring on the coronavirus and the potential for a life threatening and or life taking experience, resulting in engaging (not engaging more often than not) behaviors that put hugs in the realm of “don’t dare”, and interaction with others who have not been with you in the place and period of frank isolation and you have now another behavior (or set of them) required in the quest for daily living. This is abnormal behavior and experience for most of our lives, yet for an unidentified extended period this is expected to become the “new normal”. This participant in the exercise of living life to the fullest finds these behaviors to be abnormal. Therefore, what it seems we are destined to engage for an unidentified period of time in a new set of abnormal behaviors that facilitate our desire to remain infection free and open to the possibilities of a fully expressed and experienced life. During this undefined period of coronavirus avoidance, this unintentional participant in the PD challenges is called yet again in the world of virus avoidance, to engage behaviors that can only be understood in the context of being “abnormal”. Bring it on! We will aggressively seek to understand and engage it and mourn the loss of what we view from this side of the equation as normal life experience.

The issue over which my mind was obsessing that “inspired” me to finally get out of bed in the wee hours of the morning never materialized as I had envisioned. Experience has demonstrated repeatedly that “fortunetelling” is not one of the “spiritual gifts” promised in the twelfth chapter of 1 Corinthians. Yet, this PD ridden mind seems not to easily by taken from its obsession to a place of peace and the gift of a good night’s sleep. In fact, a healthy focus on the lack of evidence for the fulfillment of the projected outcome puts this mind in a place that is fully aware and sensitive to the surroundings. As a result, this unintentional host to the obsession and its factual counterpoint rises from the pillow and embracing mattress that previously provided rest and renewal, to take a reclining position in the chair in the den. Then, wide awake, but not obsessing any longer, we take the journey with a prayer of thanks and a visit to the “social media” to see what others have been thinking and or expressing since we left that media earlier in the evening. With a target hour for fully engaging again in the day arriving, the alarm is set anticipating the inevitable boredom that experience has taught arises from the often-poor neural stimulation in that media. This time, it is not fortunetelling that leads the way but rather experiences repeated with the relatively same outcome that gives the sense of calm that allows this host of significantly depleted amounts of dopamine, to a welcomed place of somewhat renewing sleep. The anticipated boredom soon arrives, and the previously stimulated and now more fatigued mind drifts off into the land of dreams. Near this time of the summer sunrise, combined with daylight savings time, this partially dopamine replenished host to dead and dying pyramidal cells, opens his eyes to the early glow from the east. Prayers of gratitude for the opportunity for refreshing and refinishing, even with the obsessive distraction of the earlier journey into fortunetelling were consciously lifted with a heart being injected with faith, hope, and love. The challenge of the day is understood to be a greater knowledge of how this day, in the presence of the love, grace, and mercy given me, can be multiplied by actions I will discover that render my behavior to be a reflection of the One who fills this thriving heart!

The breeze, though welcomed, does little to relieve the sweltering heat of the summer sun. Even sitting under the huge maple tree as the grandchildren play excitedly in their inflated new pool exposes one to humidity that engages a flood of perspiration almost instantly. Scorching temperatures and soaking perspiration means nothing to our delightful grandchildren splashing intentionally in the crystal blue water of the pool. The trio thrashes and splashes for hours, seeming never to lose even a tad of the stored energy. Eventually, the need for food to restore energy manifests itself and the trio reluctantly leaves the water to be restored and renewed. The seemingly hyperactive six, five, and two-year-old succumb to the biological urge to restore and respond with a nap or a series of insistent screams at one another about the possession of an obscure toy. Ultimately, restoration is obtained, and the “grands” move on to more of the wet and wild time until led to their proper and “cleansing” bath before their evening meal. With great enthusiasm the three have engaged activity that builds skills, satisfies a quest for knowledge, and exerts energy toward that for which they have passion. They are now skilled in the use of a garden hose that washes away clutter and debris from the pathway to the pool. They have learned that misuse of that flowing garden hose can result in the loss of all the water from the pool if the three of them simultaneously lie on the swollen edge, causing the container to overflow. They have also learned that they have the “power” to maintain a workable and sustainable instrument of joy and refreshment. This elderly and not very sprite possessor of PD observes and is inspired to begin to align his thoughts and energy toward that which yields rewards for the attention given. The inclination to shuffle the often seemingly stiff feet while crossing the room can be turned into a more rewarding exercise when engaging the intention of the mind with the “lifting” of the feet (without regard for how someone may view the action) that takes the movement from shuffle, to exaggeration, to a reasonable act of walking across the room. The act of having taken the shuffle and turned it into a semi-normal walk seemed at first to be a rather ridiculous exercise until the realization that the side effect of this imposing depletion of endogenous dopamine progressively deprives on of what we virtually all consider to be “normal” forms of movement. Regaining the “normal” and or reducing its decline begins to find a habitat once we “make friends” with the fact that “normal” no longer is what was and embrace the fact that  “normal” must now be discovered and embraced. Even that thought must be exercised repeatedly as if exercising a muscle that keeps us swimming in the pool of adventure and discovery. The enthusiasm of the grandkids does not yet underpin the perceived motivational splashing of intentional movements to exercise that which will reduce loss of voluntary movement taken for granted for so many years. We will see if and how the discovery of engaging different “actions of intent” will lead to a new and perhaps different place of thriving and away from activities that remind us of “our loss” (failure).

The old trunk sat next to the chimney in the attic of the house my father built in 1945. My mother had told me when I was a teenager that the trunk belonged to her father who died in the 1920’s. I had every intention of going through the old trunk to see what was there and what I could learn about Walter Keeling Davis, the man about whom my grandmother (his wife and mother of his seven daughters) had spoken so adoringly. An artifact that I discovered during my teenage years was a somewhat disheveled violin that my piano teacher at that time did not so carefully reconstruct. My mother raved about the skill of her father with the violin in his hands and the beautiful music he had shared with all the household when she was young. I took a few lessons (enough to know that it would take many more lessons to release the beauty of the instrument) and decided to put that off for a while and learn the guitar instead. The violin was with me from the time I left the farm for different horizons, until I returned at retirement. The partially restored instrument now hangs on the wall and my grandchildren gently touch it in awe. The other partial contents of the old trunk now await my somewhat careful perusal. So far, I have discovered a partially tattered letter from my great grandfather Davis to his son (my grandfather) who was in school in Kansas. Another less moth-eaten letter from grandpa’s sister was sent to the same Kansas address and gives a glimpse of the life they lived in 1902 in rural, southern Virginia. I have barely touched the greater content of what was in the old trunk before it was stored in Dad’s workshop. Someone seemed to have “dumped” the trunk “junk” into an old picnic basket that was shoved under some shelves, again in the attic. It appears there are documents from the other side of my family (my father’s) as well. This old soul (not the young whippersnapper that was swift on the move) gives thanks that there’s a long lost reality to be discovered from over a century ago that is a part of the fabric of the diverse family that exists today. The presence of the coronavirus and the demands that it imposes if one wishes to avoid it, has placed me squarely in a position to again begin the journey of looking back into the history of what was family. The challenge to “stay busy”, “keep moving” and give thanks for the gift that is shared as life today raises its lovely head from the old trunk and the picnic basket with a wink and a smile. Thanks, Grandpa! I never knew you (nor you me) but I am thankful to get a glimpse of the man who had such a positive influence in the life of this old guy with  “The Thriving Heart”.

My father’s cousin died yesterday. She had reached the celebrated age of 100 years a few months ago. Her only brother, out of six siblings, was not only my dad’s cousin, but also his best friend. My first recollection of meeting Elise Berkley was at a family reunion just a few years ago. I had heard about her from numerous family sources but cannot recall ever meeting her until that reunion. She followed my postings on www.the-thrivalist.net (that are routinely posted on Facebook on my page and under “PD Rants and Ramblings”) and frequently sent me words of encouragement or ones of affirmation noting how meaningful she was finding them. She was living with one of her daughters near Greensboro, but lived most of her life in Danville, VA, the city whose border meets that of Virginia and North Carolina less than a mile from our farm. Another person who has been an inspiration over the last thirty-five years died yesterday as well. He is the same age as I and I learned about him and his ministry while living in Manhattan, when his ministry was just getting started and I desired to learn about worshiping God with all that He made me to be and how that might unfold over time. Ravi Zacharias is a Christian Apologist who dedicated his life to the spreading of the good news that Jesus Christ is the one through whom God so loves this world, that people of all languages, all races, all nationalities, all genders, orientation, or persuasion (whosoever) may by the very act of believing in Him, participate in life eternally in the presence of the God who so loved (eternally)! In addition to the inspiring way in which Ravi conveyed that message of good news, he was also instrumental in facilitating others who delivered that same message to even more who needed (s) to hear. Through Ravi’s encouragement and support, Nabeel Qureshi, a Medical Doctor, grounded in Islam, who after seeking to study the scriptures to disprove Christianity, dedicated his life to the spread of Christianity until his untimely death from cancer just three years ago. In the midst of the morbid threat of contracting this rampant coronavirus it is comforting to remember that there are those who have contributed the living of their lives, while they had the gift of inhaling the next breath, to sharing the love of our God as He has loved us. In so doing, Elise loved as the encourager, affirmer, and inspirer. Ravi lived as the challenger, the bearer of truth, and one who facilitated the unraveling of the simple truth in “for God so love the world.” Nabeel lived as an overflowing vessel that was filled with the truth of God’s love, in scripture, teaching, and the desire to keep God in the center of his over-abundant life. The gift that is life becomes richer and fuller when we recognize that the “value” we experience comes not from just what we receive, but fully expressed and understood in what and how we give it to others! The gift is fully utilized when it is given away. Thanks, Elise, Ravi, and Nabeel for being multipliers of the gift that is free, but not at all cheap!

A virus? A pandemic? And, we’re told that age (being old), current health condition and anything less than perfect (my slant on the information given) lungs and heart, position one as prime candidate for the terminal journey of the coronavirus now infecting (infesting) virtually every continent in the world. The best method of prevention is to not be exposed to it. Well, isn’t that special – that applies to any disease, I recon!! It would apply to life as well. To avoid death, don’t be born! Serious stuff with silly expressions of “remedies” thrown its way. We must be careful that we ask the right questions since our participation in this journey places us directly in what could be harm’s way. Even if we know that the thief is hiding along the path we’ve chosen to travel to accomplish what we determine to be “worthwhile”, we still need to be alert to all the ways in which we can be prepared to avoid and or defeat this enemy. The virus has only one major ambition in life: To produce multiples of itself (propagate)in a way that ensures its expression of life, whether as currently expressed or more efficiently and effectively, to evolve into its fullest potential. No one has a valid clue about into what it could ultimately evolve. It has no clue as to its evolutionary destination, but that does not stop or curtail the processes it must undertake to accomplish its end. Wow! It is impossible to communicate with it at our or its level of understanding. We cannot influence its drive to engage in its nature to replicate, duplicate, or evolve into what it is in its destiny. We CAN learn how it lives outside it’s apparent host(s), (humans and potentially others in the animal kingdom), what ignites its infection/infestation in a potential host, the weaknesses in its replication process and any number of other possible means by which we may find a “win” over its desire for life. This miniscule occupant of the living world that we mutually share shows us, in a way we’ve not experienced in quite this fashion worldwide, that the “routine” of life is not one we should take for granted. We’ve been suddenly thrown into the task of having to analyze our vulnerability, our strengths, the most positive action and interaction in our family and community in which we should engage. The “social” and “emotional” interactions that we have become accustomed to and to even “expect” in our relationships have been turned on their proverbial ear. This possessor of a Thriving Heart that is experienced as a gift from my creator that is to be nurtured by action that demonstrates my gratitude for the opportunities that have been given, and that are yet to be given, and that reflect the magnificent love and care of the Creator and Sustainer of this space in time we call life. May we each find the space and place wherein we may thrive in the challenge of life that is beyond, career, finances, and or “traditional” relationships. Our challenge is not simply life or death, but rather our challenge is to live with the mind of one who thrives, taking each moment beyond a desire to simply survive.

The words came through on Facebook Messenger early in the morning; “Dad passed away last night”! “Dad” was my boss at one time. His name is Michael, but everyone who knew him called him Mike, unless of course, they wanted to get a pointed message across. He and his family lived on Long Island, not far from where we worked training pharmaceutical sales representatives in the nuances of the preparations our company produced and promoted. As I read the short message, my mind was flooded with fond memories of the decades we have known each other. He was my “boss” for only a couple of years. He pursued an advance in his career managing an area near metropolitan Atlanta, and I stepped into the Training Manager role he had held. We could write volumes about the experiences we had as colleagues in an industry that seems to have changed quite a bit over the years. His son’s Bar mitzvah and the chance to visit often when we lived closer together in the Delaware Valley area of Pennsylvania and Delaware and the academic achievements of his daughter were sources of pride for Mike. He became one of the dearest friends one could ever anticipate having and one with which this reluctant participant in the disease called Parkinson’s had the rare blessing of sharing so many common values together. A significant learning experience with my friend that has had a broad impact on my years of decision making and achievement of goals comes from our time as “trainer partners” in New York. I’m not sure where he got this notion, but it has made a world of difference in the way I perceive and pursue many elements of life. Part of our training sessions followed a pattern of exchange with the physician or medical provider that addressed the issues of F.A.B…V. Translated, those letters stand for “Features”, “Advantages”, “Benefits”,… “Value”. Features are those things that describe the subject matter (a pharmaceutical compound, or any other article being promoted). Advantages elucidate those elements (real or perceived) that make our item more attractive, and Benefits are those things that make something more attractive/useful to me (or the person using/taking it). Value, though, is the clincher, and becomes the linchpin in the transaction…VALUE. A simple way to enhance understanding of value can be accomplished with a ¼ inch drill. Features of weight, speed, etc., plus advantages that may include extra long battery storage, and benefits of rapidly moving through multiple surfaces. But VALUE…, the value of a quarter inch drill is the hole you get!! That fact helps to put all the other elements in their proper place. All the wonderful things about my buddy Mike are made whole and unique because they come together in what I find of greatest value – FRIEND. I give thanks for that wonderful gift!

When checking the bag for the trip from Raleigh to Fort Lauderdale the reservation for wheelchair assistance was confirmed. “TSA Precheck” designation had was accomplished and this sometimes anxiety fraught Parkinson’s mind was put to ease as the delightful lady with the chair arrived with an assuring smile. What we had anticipated to be a lengthy process of check-in turned out to be less than ten minutes. A journey down in the elevator and a brisk ride to the departure gate C-3 put us beside the boarding desk where we waited for the call to board early. The arrival in Fort Lauderdale was as accommodating as that at Raleigh. The delightful evening with my son and a drop off by him the next morning at Port Everglades was just what a doctor would order for this mind fraught with unexpected anxiety about the motorized scooter chair that was scheduled to be waiting at the entrance to our stateroom. We were told that the room would not be ready for occupancy until 2:00 pm, but that we were welcomed to visit the room, establish the electronic connection with our cell phone and deposit our carry-on bags. As we approached what was scheduled to be our “residence” for the following seven days, there it was; the scooter that was rented for the duration of the journey aboard. The tag had me identified as the “operator” of the “Scootaround” and within its front wheel basket was the charger and key. On previous cruises, the folding cane was used as assistant to a somewhat smooth move about the ship. Mobility has become a greater challenge in the last few months, so I agreed to seek a holding place, away from the joy of the cruise ship, for the puffed up ego that wanted to believe the ”motorized wheelchair?, not me”. Maneuvering the speed selector with a simple “forward” with the right finger press, and “reverse” with the left finger press. Zipping around (cautiously) the ship from stateroom, to the desired location virtually anywhere on board soon became easier than ever thought by this reluctant participant. The ego of this “not-for-me – I don’t need” motorized assistance mindset was being challenged with every successful zip into the elevator and the backward “zip” out to the next desired location. It was nearly two days before this perceiver of self-sufficiency calmed himself down to offer up thoughts of gratitude for this ability giving mechanism. After each thankful thought came the pathway to letting go this ego that inhibited enjoying the best that this travel experience has to offer. For that, I give thanks!