[stylist] Please Read my Live Well Column: Meet the Blind Month

[Jacobson, Shawn D]

I concur Jackie

I love the imagery, "shards of memory" etc.  My guess is that someone who has been dear all there lives would not think that deafness is worse than blindness.  The deaf have made there own community using alternative techniques in the spirit of the NFB.  I do agree that we take a lot for granted and are not always aware of how fortunate we are.

The best.

Shawn

-----Original Message-----
From: stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of Bridgit Pollpeter
Sent: Monday, October 17, 2011 3:43 PM
To: stylist at nfbnet.org
Subject: [stylist] Please Read my Live Well Column: Meet the Blind Month

Jackie,

What a beautiful poem. It speaks to the beauty of life, but also bears
the human emotions we all feel. Feeling sorry for your self is easy for
anyone regardless of a disability or not. It takes courage to view your
life through a positive lens. We can focus on finances, health, material
possessions, body image, disability, the list goes on and on. To lift
the obstacles out of the way, that we often place there ourselves, takes
strength and courage.

I often feel discouraged by the lack of movement with diabetes research.
So much has happened, and we've come a long way, and yet, we have so
much more to go. They always said a "cure" would happen in my lifetime,
but twenty-seven years later, I'm still waiting. I live my life and
follow a routine to maintain my health, but sometimes I just want to
give up. It helps to strengthen me to hear from those who have more
difficult struggles than I do. And helping others always improves your
outlook on your personal problems.

I have a cousin who was ran over by a car when a little boy. He has to
be in a special chair all the time, unable to move his body, using a
breathing tube to move his chair. He's always been as active a spossible
despite his profound limitations. He decided to go on and live his life
as much as possible. He's now a teen who is funny and intelligent. I
can't imagine being confined to a chair, and yet I realize how I confine
myself to a meaningless life when I choose to focus on the negative
instead of moving forward, seeking opportunities and removing obstacles
no matter how big.

Sincerely,
Bridgit Kuenning-Pollpeter
Read my blog at:
http://blogs.livewellnebraska.com/author/bpollpeter/
 
"History is not what happened; history is what was written down."
The Expected One- Kathleen McGowan

Message: 4
Date: Sun, 16 Oct 2011 15:27:30 -0700
From: "Jacqueline Williams" <jackieleepoet at cox.net>
To: "'Writer's Division Mailing List'" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
Subject: Re: [stylist] Please Read My Live Well Column
Message-ID: <3AD69F0D83FA4EDC9D40DB9E098CC1EA at JackiLeePoet>
Content-Type: text/plain;	charset="us-ascii"

Bridget,
Again, an effective blog. I wonder how many know this is a meet the
blind month. Yes, we should all be active in the community. Consider for
a moment, an elderly woman who is not only severely limited with visual
perception, who has had the cochlea removed from her left ear due to
Menieres syndrome, thus had very limited hearing and no directionality
to the hearing left, and no balance, and peripheral neuropathy an
difficulty walking due to arthritis, Can one still be an activist? Yes,
if she picks and chooses carefully. Communicating through the computer
and e-mail, taking classes, small enough and structured well so that
there is no extraneous noise, using an FM on her hearing aid, and
getting over sensitivities enough that all those she does meet in her
home, or at support groups, or at poetry events  are ways. People learn
slowly what they can do to be supportive, but not overbearing. Almost
every member of my poetry group has been to my house to see and hear the
miracle of a screen reader, or to know how I keep up with Newsweek, the
Atlantic Monthly, The Writer's Magazine, cook and bake, and read my
poetry, written only a little about being blind or otherwise having
problems. I am going to enclose a poem I wrote when I was diagnosed with
Menieres Syndrome. I get rid of most worries or symptoms by writing
about them.

First Light with Mister Menieres

She used to arise at four-thirty long before morning light. There was
time for treasured quiet- to nurture a shard of her shattered self.
Perplexities and worries of the days 
forewarned of tragic times.

Then, two sons grown, a son and husband gone,
she still arose at five before the morning light.
Spiked with energy and expectation
she felt eagerness to walk a mile, gather with friends,
or take a trip. She would write of illusions, anger, 
love and grief, dance a dance, seek life's learnings.
She might experience a man or three-
ignite new lights.

Now, in the surrounding still of intermittent deafness
she burrows into flannel sheets holding her close.
She dreams a dream, explores a memory-
listens with awe to the mouse that lives in her left ear.
He squeaks directions to his orchestra, tuning up for the day.

Only at first light does she allow herself 
the surreal sensation of vertigo as she arises with care. Perhaps this
day Mister Menieres will permit her 
to savor coffee, enjoy a book, bake a loaf, 
call a friend or write a poem to reclaim those parts-
pieces to a puzzle finally taking shape.

It makes a mosaic of her forgotten self
illuminated by the candle power of tranquility.

I think I said once to the crowd, that there are things worse than
blindness. Deafness is one. There are so many ways to deal with
blindness. Deafness cuts into your heart by losing communication with
those you love. When you take away the visual, the auditory and then the
tactual, you are getting close to Helen Keller, though she could feel
with her hands. Every time in my life that I have come close to feeling
sorry for myself, I have only to "look" around and see someone I would
much rather not be. Right now, it is my kid brother, 13 years younger,
who has early onset Alzheimer's and has broken his neck, is wearing a
halo, and his miraculous creativity is gone. I guess we can all say, we
are pretty lucky. Jacqui 


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