They’ve converted our room into a Chamber of Horrors with that Japanese sword fighting stuff.  At first  I thought that Will had rented the place out to a coven of witches, ya know, a bunch of crazies  who mostly howled at the moon.  Ah, I figured that these people must have convinced him that theirs was a social support group, albeit engaged  in some innocuous mysterious rituals.   But last Tuesday, when I  heard frantic streams  coming from in there, I figured there were  animal sacrifices going on.   I needed to investigate and maybe do something about it, so I stuck my head in the window next to Table # 1 for a look-see.  To tell ya the truth, I couldn’t really see much; nobody even riding around on broom handles.  Instead, I saw people dressed in medieval black attire  holding swords.  Turns out, the ruckus was coming from a bunch of samurai wannabes trying to kill each other.  I mean they were chasing and whacking away pretty good.  Kinda barbaric, if ya catch my drift here. Probably a few of them were getting injured, but no animals were getting their jugulars cut, as far as I could make out, so it didn’t bother me too much. 
     Well, I will say this for those engaged in this brutish anachronistic form of fighting:  They were real good at cleaning up the gore.  When we showed up the next day on Wednesday for Ping Pong Parkinson, I didn’t seen any bone fragments or blood stains anywhere.  And, apparently,  no one was killed, either.  At least that’s what they said, and I  didn’t see any corpses.  But ... nobody checked the closets.  Frankly, I’m afraid to look.   Lao Du

  ​When I was close to my 60th year I held out my hands for my (late) husband to pull me up off the beach blanket. Not because I couldn’t get up on my own, but because I thought I’m almost 60 and this is how old ladies get up off the beach.
 
Shortly thereafter, I took up yoga and learned that if you don’t make the effort, you don’t get the grace. In short, I learned to kick my own butt and connect with my breath. I am younger in spirit and body now and grateful that I did not succumb to impending old age.  That's lesson one.
 
Ten years ago my husband got a prostate cancer diagnosis. We both spent so much emotional energy worrying and forecasting his coming illness and demise. Neither happened. He died healthy and doing what was his passion - scuba diving. This was a reminder that we don’t know what the future holds, so don’t spend energy thinking about it.  That's lesson two.
 
Now I am no longer in my early 60's, but in my early 70's. Now I have a Parkinson's diagnosis and I am applying those two lessons in my coping and dealing. I do not know how my disease (I like to call it a condition) will progress, but I am being proactive in my fight to stay well.  For example, I joined Ping Pong Parkinson. I LOVE ping pong! It is so much fun! The fact that it helps my brain build new neural pathways added to my cross referencing  with others affected by Parkinson’s at our sessions, is icing on the cake. I could have joined a support group and sat in a circle talking about how sad we are.  Instead I’m playing ping pong!
 
Swimming: I don’t understand the how or why of it, but in the water the stiffness that Parkinson's causes disappears. I use a snorkel to keep my head in the water and exist in a weightless realm where my limbs are fluid and beautifully at my command.
 
Yoga:  Provides a mind body connection and breath awareness.  Also aids in strength and balance. 
 
So in a funny way, Parkinson's is giving me my best self.  Even if my condition deteriorates I feel good in the moment.  And the moment is all we have. 
Diane Gershen