Stare

My drivers ed teacher told me through coffee sips, you drive at what you stare at.

I still remember looking out over Houston. I had never liked Houston, not before that day. I sat in the doctors room with my thoughts. And crappy thoughts at that.  Ones like 'damn its me in this chair hearing these words' and 'what now?' . I had a few more thoughts, ones I'd never allow in on a proud day. I sat in that chair and looked out the cold window. Cars and buildings and dreams and horrors all in one eyes watch, a city that would keep going. So big. So many things to stare at.

The first thing I did when I left the doctors was grab a coffee. My husband reassured me I was going to be fine. I didn't need to be so afraid.  I went off gluten and dairy before I made it home. It helped but it only got me to the next intersection. I didn't know what to do next, it all seemed so big, my own Houston. I needed informed ground to stand on, a hell of a lot of hope, and some time to take a big old idea like oh I don't know, degenerating, and see what I could do with it.

Since then I'm learning that informed ground means no corn or gluten, or commercial dairy, or nightshades, or soy. I learned there may be 100 no's out there but there are 300 yes's. Each no used to close me in a bit. A small goodbye to freedom.  I felt a lot like a tired grandma, who had just got done making sure the fireplace had been put out right, taking one last look around her familiar house before bed as she'd shakily reached for the light. No was the light being turned off, a soft glow gone. Leaving me with nothing to stare at...

No these days means stare at the yes's.