It is four o’clock in the morning and once again it is just you and me. You are the reason I write. You who have no face, but I still recognize you like everyone I have ever, or will ever meet. You with no voice, but I still listen to you echoing though the side-streets of my everyday life. You are my reader - my Facebook friend - my actual friend - you are you are my reader - you are the sugar in the lemonade the universe has me to make.
I have been told that I am an inspiration more in the last two years than I have my entire life. Hell, I’ve been told more this past month than I have in my entire life. A switch has been turned on that I did not even know was there and whatever that switch is wired to has enabled me to share my thoughts and feelings in a way that inspires. I view this as a huge responsibility...
The subtext is in plain view for all to see. I received parkinson’s disease / I wrote about it. / these writings inspire a lot of people. It’s simply that simple. But, I am not a writer, never really wanted to be, except for the fact that you can go to work naked, it had little appeal. In college I was quite bad at it. Truth be told, it was failure to meet the writing requirements that forced me to drop out. I hated it.
That was then and now it’s now and now I love it. I can’t write enough of it - writing is my summer vacation - it’s my birthday - it’s a road trip with my dad (son). Writing gives me much more than I have ever given it. And I believe what has been given has been given unconditionally. So I will write. When I can’t sleep because the pain from some parknson’s sponsored chronic condition won’t allow it, I will write. When I pace the floor, my companions: fear and self-doubt by my side, I will write. When the towel is right there and all i have to do is reach over - grab it - and throw it in, I will write.
I never would have guessed that there would come a time in my life were I would approached by total strangers on the street, complete strangers who only wanted to tell me what a positive influence my words have had on their life. I take my ability to create and inspire extremely seriously and think about it all the time but, it is not why I write. None of this would work, for you, or for me, if it were. My motivation is completely selfish and self serving. In order to truly inspire anyone I must first inspire myself and my writing to you, my thoughts - my fears - my life - inspires me to no end. I’ve come to the conclusion that what inspires people in my writing is watching me inspire myself. That is why when and if parkinsons takes its final head count of my lost abilities, there is one that it will have to pry my cold dead fingers off of. I will write, if it’s the last thing I can do... I will write. I will inspire.
just say yes!
meet Andy Ward King, a professional musician and artist until a diagnosis of parkinons dsease at age 49 forced him into an early retirement., he now uses his music, his art along with the whimsical world he has created in this blog as therapy to ( as he puts it ) outsmart his brain and make the daily battles with parkinson’s a little bit easier, to give him that all important reason to get up on the morning, to make his life worth living. Andy has learned how to say NO to gving up \ NO to depression and apathy \ NO to following willingly the road of decline that stretches before him. he learned that to say no to all of these things all one has to do is say yes. Andy has learned to just say YES to life/\\