I’m done here, so I put my phone down and stand up.

There it is–that push up through my head and the throb in my legs.

Whoa. Stop, bend my knee and put my arms out to keep my balance.

This time my vision goes black around the edges.

Should I sit down again?

Is my head clearing? Do the black edges clear out.

No, I didn’t have to sit down yet. I take a step and start going to where I was thinking when I needed to get up in the first place.

I could sit. I could always sit. Rest is there for me. I have that privilege.

And if I wait for my blood, breath and strength to catch up to my ideas movement is there for also.

I want to go. I was done with resting. Movement is the key to what I want next.

Every moment it’s a choice. What motion could I make now? 

Ooh…Not yet. Don’t fall over. Wait a moment. Vision needs to clear.

I stand still, holding faith that the next step will open up.

It almost always does. The way is before me.

I’m not yearning for rest. Those who long for rest should have it.

I want that step, that movement, like it’s my breath. 

Pause. 

And pause again.

Hanging in the balance, with the fiath that the next step will appear when it’s right.

I’ll save the rest for a rainy day. I’ll save it for something special.

My motion pulls me, even if I can’t keep up with it. 

I’m on my way…I’ll be there as soon as I can.