Basso's Bestest

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Basso's Bestest

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:21 pm

I've decided since Basso has been teetering around 1000 posts (LOL) that I would start a thread to include some of his best, most inspired writings... BEFORE he deletes them all... :evil:

He's far too humble to do this himself, but I think it is a worthy pursuit, nonetheless.

Plus, I think the newcomers might enjoy reading these...

So...here goes...

Basso-this is YOUR life....

Humble beginnings...First post April 28, 2005

basso wrote:Howdy all,
This is my 1st post ever to any website. I found this site, just today, after vowing to myself 3 days ago that I would never type twitching again into any search engine. You all no doubt are all well aware of the 1st few sites that I came upon. It is for this reason that I am impelled to tell a little of my experience as much as for my own catharsis as anything else. About 3weeks ago I noticed a twitch in my left index finger, it was strong enough that my finger would actually move towards the thumb and then be held there for a moment. I wasn't that worried about and thought that it would just go away. Just last week I felt that tingling or all gone sensation in my hands and feet that I have read about in other forums. My face began to twitch a little it also felt kind of odd or numb for a time. This spurred me to look up twitching on the net and I discovered that twitching in the calves and hands was a sign of ALS. I became horrified, paranoid and desperate. Approx. 20 minutes later I was twitching all over my calves with other twitches in my thighs, bicep, bum and that rippling feeling in my back. I didn't sleep for 2 nights and then I went to the hospital sure of looming death sentence. The Dr. was very nice and did the usual cursory reflex and muscle testing by poking me with a stick and said that everything looked fine but that he would send in the paper work so that I could see a neurologist. I went to the car park and cried tears of relief. Later on my optimism waned and began to believe that the Dr. was incorrect and that all my symptoms pointed toward a terrible end. I woke up this morning after another dreadful night of not sleeping and was convinced of impending demise. I went swimming to prove to myself that I was strong, but that proved folly as I felt quite fatigued afterwards. I promptly went to my office and cried again. I decided that I would look up twitching one last time but kept calling myself, outloud, a fool! Lo and behold I found BFS.com. After reading "BFS in a Nutshell" I felt such relief that my twitching subdided to a dull roar. I am now, somewhat, confident that I have joined the ranks of BFS'ers. I will have to await the usual battery of tests but thank goodness for BFS.com, it has given me some much needed perspective. I will never look at any other website on twitching and look forward to perhaps sleeping tonight.

Cheers All.
Last edited by SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 6:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Energy-or lack thereof

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:22 pm

basso wrote:Energy, namely our own, is a precious commodity: especially if you suffer from BFS. It is most definitely something that we would not knowingly squander, nor would we want less of it.

In 1985 an Air India 747 blew up just off the coast of Ireland as the result of a bomb. (my Canadian compatriots will know this story well) Over300 people were killed by this terrorist attack. Fathers, mothers, children, etc were left to grieve the loss of their loved ones. Entire families had been wiped out. An extensive investigation was launched by the RCMP and CSIS (our version of the CIA). They were confident it was the work of Sikh extremists and they were pretty sure they knew who did it. Family members followed the proceedings with intense interest, attending every twist and turn. They needed closure and many wanted vengeance against the perpetrators in the form of an extremely long jail sentence (like forever and ever). Who could blame them.

Well after the most expensive and long lasting investigation in Canadian history, 20 years, the conclusion of the Supreme Court Justice was that there was insufficient evidence to convict the two accused. The families were outraged, they felt betrayed by the police and justice system, there was a cry for a public enquiry into what seemed like a very botched criminal investigation. They had waited 20 years to get on with their lives, 20 years for closure. How much longer would their lives be on hold?

On the other side of the globe, in a small village in the province of Andhra Pradesh in India, a Dr. Chandra runs a school for poor children and is also the director of a hospital specializing in cataract surgery. Both the school and the hospital are free, and run on donations from wherever, and from whomever Dr. Chandra can procure them. The children who attend the school would normally not be able to go to school at all and he provides a free lunch for them as well. At the hospital an astonishing 150 cataract surgeries are done each and every day, at a ratio of 1 every 3 minutes. Eye specialists from North America have stated that the work is of incredibly high quality. Dr. Chandra is greatly loved and treated with the deference of a saint. His seemingly limitless love and energy has touched thousands and made an enormous impact in their lives.

Twenty years ago Dr. Chandra was a biologist working for Health Canada, when the Air India disaster changed his life forever. He lost his wife, son and daughter in the bombing. For three years he was an empty hole, consumed with grief and loneliness. His life lacked meaning and he struggled to find purpose to even go on living. Then he had an idea. His wife had always been concerned about the poor in her native region. Then and there he decided to quit his high paying job, sold his house, liquidated his savings and went off to live amongst the poor of the poor. He took his grief and channelled his loss into something substantive and positive: into something of beauty. He named the school after his daughter and the hospital after his son.

I believe this story relates well to BFS. We can become so consumed with anxiety and fear that we use up all of our precious energy in worry. On top of that we have responsibilities at work and at home. The well soon becomes dry. A vicious cycle of self-preoccupation predominates. The ebb and flow of life gets stuck. We want to know what is wrong with us, where it came from and when and how will it end. Will blood tests tell us why, will just one more emg do the trick? The answer is that there are no certainties in life except that we are here today. What are we going to do about it?

My 13 year old daughter asked me today if the old dad, the pre-BFS one, was coming back. I smiled broadly at her and thought, “I sincerely hope not.” The man who was always in a hurry, often intense and angry, who often felt bothered by his family, I hope he’s gone for good. I am writing these posts not to lecture or judge, because I don’t feel that I have that right. The old Basso might have. I write them as I embark on my own new journey, if any of it strikes a chord then I chalked it up to fate, karma, serendipity or what ever you might want to call it. One thing is for sure though, I want to put my energy towards really living, embracing each day with eagerness. In the play Cyrano de Bergerac by Ronsard, Cyrano says: “ …never to utter a sentence that I have not first heard in
my own heart, To be content with the things in my own garden, Ay even if they be weeds.”

Cheers,
Basso
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bfs a question of balance

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:25 pm

basso wrote:I suppose what is true of any illness is that something is out of balance. This lack of centre, if you will, could be any number of things. It may be a lack of something or too much of something else. It may start because of an outside influence, such as Lyme disease, or there may be an internal catalyst. The initial manifestation of imbalance may be something small, like a twitch. The body, for whatever reason, is unable to correct this imbalance and so the imbalance remains, or gets worse.

I have often thought if only I could get more sleep, more exercise, eat better, eat less, give up coffee, find a pill that would allay my symptoms, that this would be the beginning of my road to real health: towards balance. I have, at various times, become fit through my workouts, lost significant weight and had the admiration of my friends and family for my discipline and fortitude. I looked fit and definitely felt better. However, many of my complaints persisted. For one I still lacked energy, and getting out of bed in the morning was still a chore. My reflux hadn’t gone away, I was still stressed by my day-to-day activities, and my thoughts would often drift to, “ if only my family would do such and such then my life would be so much better.” I felt wound up, worried about my kids, my wife, our lack of money, and my lack of a satisfying career. What should have been my road to balance was anything but; I had made outward changes but the inside remained the same. The thing is, I didn’t know that I was dissatisfied with these things, not until BFS brought me, quite literally, to my knees

How then is one to find a balance? I have come to believe that it must start from the head down: that we must find ourselves mentally well before we can tackle, convincingly, the physical ailments. This is easier said the done, or is it? We have all, I think, been in that dark pit of despair after diagnosing ourselves with the unthinkable, unmentionable nasty of nasties. At that moment, we realized how content we would be with our meagre lives if only we could be spared our imminent downfall, and then quick demise. From out of this desperation came something unexpected, an appreciation for just being here, no matter what our circumstances. In a moment our priorities became reset; we realized the miracle of our just being here. That, I believe, should be our starting point on the road to balance, to health.

Presuming we are fairly sure our malady is BFS, we are relieved, we have been through a true crisis, faced a demon. Something profound has happened, there has been an awakening; there is extraordinariness to the everyday. We see our families in a different light, we treat them differently and they in turn respond accordingly: you have awakened in them the magic too. Wow! Your driving is less hurried, you smile and laugh with ease, you accept that you have qualities that are of value.

This mental awareness/spiritual awakening brings with it a wonderful energy. An energy that comes from comes from a vital force, the force of life itself. Even when you are physically tired you feel undaunted by facing yet another day of fatigue. This is how you know it is real Lasting change is occurring; there is a positive outlook in-spite of how you feel What is physically out-of-balance I really couldn’t say, but I would say that I am better equipped now to ferret out any possible solutions than I was before. I notice I have a spring in my step, a spring that doesn’t come from my tired legs but from a different power source.
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Managing Fear

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:29 pm

basso wrote:"...these fears that fell to my lot out of every day stirred a hundred other fears, and they stood up in me against me and agreed among themselves, and I couldn't get beyond them. In striving to form them, I came to work creatively on them ; instead of making them into things of my will, I only gave them a life of their own which they turned against me..."

R M Rilke

There is no end to the things that can feed our imagination: both positive and negative. We must, I believe, turn away from imaginings that seem to hold us captive to our fears; forcibly if necessary. This does not require discipline, bravery, or dogged determination. It only requires that we acknowledge who we actually are. Anyone who has gone through the initial stages of BFS knows what is really important. Life has been distilled down to it's very essence there is an innate sense of what life is all about.

If we keep this in the forefront of our thoughts, there is a beauty that begins to bloom. We recognize that, although we may be a speck of sand on a cosmic beach, without these specks there would be no sand, and hence there is an inherent value in each and everyone of us. Rejoice in this. Unfetter the imagination and it will lead past your health worries and into living life with joy and calm.

Cheers,
Basso
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Getting over the ALS hump

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:30 pm

basso wrote:You’re going along and everything feels fine, and then suddenly you feel/sense that something is different. A new kind of twitch, you choke on your water, you ankle feels unstable, pins and needles in a new location, etc. There is a spike in your adrenaline, “Oh, Oh,” you think. We are quickly mired in self-doubt, perhaps gripped with fear. We all know the drill; we’ve all been there. What can we do, at that moment?

We could remember that not one person who has posted on this site has had her/his fasciculations turn into anything more sinister than a benign condition. We could also recall the Mayo Clinic study followed more than 1000 people with fasciculations, all of whose condition remained benign. This should make us all feel great; help us get past this new development in our lives. Judging from the number who post because of just this scenario, it would seem that this information, in and of itself is not enough. Why? Well, I would guess that it is the same reason that many do not find more than temporary solace from neurological exams, EMG’s, MRI’s, and the like. Simply stated, facts cannot, it would seem; re-hydrate sufficiently our depleted selves, our spirit if you will.

People who come to this site are often in a fragile state; they need more than the pronouncements of technology to salve their wounds. This still begs the question what can we do, when a moment of uncertainty, of fear is upon us? So what can we do, at that moment?

Imagine you are outside in a place of hushed quiet; you are gazing up at the stars. You have never seen so many, and their twinkling makes you gently laugh. You hear music for the first time in your life and you are astounded by it’s beauty. You have never heard anything quite so beautiful: it stirs in you feelings of wanting to laugh, and yet you also yearn to cry. Like biological alchemy these disparate feelings meld together and out of fear, hope and joy are born. As you lie there you are touched by beams of light; it is starlight, coming from stars that burned out long ago: but here they are touching you. You begin to twitch in the spots where you are touched, you pulse, you vibrate; you have never felt so happy, so alive. With each twitch you reflect the light back skyward and new, brighter stars are born. In the space between one moment and another, something amazing is revealed, and it is you.


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Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:32 pm

basso wrote:Dear BFSers:

While perusing the dusty nether regions of a local second hand book store I came upon a most amazing treatise on BFS, except it wasn't called that. The author coined the name Voluptuous Epidermis or VE. Apparently there was a massive outbreak of fasciculating during a church service in a little town in Bavaria in the 1800's. Don't laugh this is true! Even the pastor was twitching. Some people thought it was the devil, but an enlightened baker from the village declared that it was poisoned dough from the travelling Prezel Salesman (who had all but cornered the market on Brezels). So they did what any sensible villager of the 1800's would do when afflicted with the mob mentality, they ripped him to pieces. It must be remarked that in an amazing show of compassion they salted him before burial.

It would be fifty years before another outbreak was recorded; that being in an equally small and sleepy village in Suffolk, England. This time it happened at a wedding, where such a fist fight broke out that some historians believe it was the actual forerunner to football hooliganism. This time a member of the landed gentry, who was an amateur astronomer, noted that the outbreak of twitching happened precisely at the same moment that Venus was at closest proximity to the earth in it's orbit. He was roundly chastised for his theory, and henceforth sat at the back of the pub getting stupifyingly drunk and spoke no more. However, a Dr. Gradus ad Parnassum, noted that the skin seemed to move when people were in fits of passion, and so the term Voluptuous Epidermis came into being. DR. Gradus was an extremely curious man, and also very, very horny (but I digress) and so he devoted his life to study the bizarre phenomenon of VE.

After studying VE for 30 years, at the ripe old age of 60 he brought forth his treatise entitled, "VE It's Cure and The Meaning of Life." The proof was in the pudding and all the villagers were cured of their twitching malady. Only one copy survives, the one that I have, because of a devastating fire that burned the entire village to the ground. The fire was blamed on the poor Dr., most probably because he had slept with just about everyone's wife, and so he fled to London where he lived out his life as lowly grave digger

Anyway onto the cure. DR. Gradus surmised that .......shoot where did I put that paper....heck...is it....OMG....Rex, take that out of your mouth right now, RIGHT NOW.....Crap...stop slobbering...oh, oh, he's gone out the door...*beep*...REX, STOP....REEEEEEEEEX......
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I love walking

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:34 pm

basso wrote:I love walking late at night. There is a quiet that I find is highly conducive to reflection, of life, or even just the days events. In many houses the lights are out and the occupants have already tucked themselves in their beds, whilst others, their lights still on, are no doubt, preparing for that same process.

Last night I had such a walk. The night air was brisk, and the night sky clear. The first bend in my stroll brought me upon a caterpillar, which at first glance I thought was a stick. It seemed to move though and so I was unsure. To ascertain the true nature of this object, I did what must have seemed very violent to the post-larva; I kicked it with my shoe. This elicited all manner of squiggling, and thus my curiosity, for the moment, abated. (BTW, no lasting harm was done to said caterpillar) As I ambled further I noticed, oddly enough, potatoes sitting at the side of the road. I considered for a moment how these perfectly good spuds could have come to rest, so incongruously, so far from the farmer’s field, or from someone kitchen. As I couldn’t resist, I picked one up and threw it at an elm tree, not far off in the park. My aim was true, and the poor potato that hadn’t done anyone harm, splattered all over kingdom come. If the root had been inclined to have satisfaction, it was obliged. The pain in my shoulder was startling, and I felt quite the fool for having not warmed up first. I may feel like a teenager, but my tendons and joints are all of forty-five years. (Ugh) Men will be boys.

However, usually when I walk I am not transfixed by things on the ground but rather, my attention is usually riveted to the stars. I can’t say why this is, but things celestial always amaze me. Nevertheless, it was with my feet firmly planted on the ground that I continued my stroll, albeit with my head craned upward. The stars made me think of you, my BFS comrades. As I looked at one portion of the sky, I imagined the twinkling dots of light as the people with whom I have become familiar through my BFS travels. How can the night sky mimic something as mundane, and perhaps banal as a website? Well my friends, it can and it does. I even imagined us holding a BFS conference in the Big Dipper, later on known as the Skinny Dipper. Better buff up a bit first I guess.

One thought or feeling that always impresses itself upon me as I stroll, is how I am walking on a planet amongst other planets, and that I am in fact, to someone or something, in outer space. I imagine the ellipse that I trace as my revolving ball whooshes by other balls. What a trip to be………alive, and what a concept that is.
I am literally steeped in reverence, I want to drink it in, I want to embrace it, and I want to be a part of it. I feel not a oneness, but a yearning, like a lover I want to fulfill my destiny through the coupling of my spirit with the grandeur of the universe. I am a song, a euphoric shout, a dance, a kindred soul to…….I know not what. I make star angels in the ether, the night air blows its kisses and it is so very sweet upon my lips.

What a contrast to six months ago, when I stumbled over this exact same route. That time saw me bereft of any joy, and if there were such a condition as “ the walking dead,” that would very much have described me. I don’t remember if the evening was fine that night, and I cannot recall seeing any stars. What I do remember is that I cried out to God, to the universe, to anyone or anything that might be listening that I very much wanted to live. I struggled with wave after wave of fear; I cried sheets of tears.

I hardly recognize the remnant of that man anymore; such is the joy that now inhabits my life, my soul. That memory, once so vivid, has faded such that I smile at myself and think who was that sorry fellow. I do sometimes wonder though how such a grip was established that would not release him from his anger, his fear and his sorrow. Not for very long, not any more. I mean why bother, isn’t life for rapturous loving and living?

I relate this tale to speak of how simple recovery can be, and how permanent. I wish to share with you how my twitches busting out everywhere, mimicked my spirit wanting out as well. How despair, pain and anguish can translate into joy, love, and faith. Joy in life, love in living it, and the faith to believe in all of that.

If we could decipher all the motives of all the things that shaped what we call our life, would it matter? I don’t think it would. It would probably increase our pain; incense our bitterness. If we could delineate the threads of our state of being, our health, would we then feel comfortable in saying, “ I can now enjoy my life?” Again, I doubt it.

The answer lies, I believe, in that startling moment between a rush of feeling, and the serenity of a life acknowledged. Each thing that we come in contact with leaves some kind of an impression on our mind, our being. The stronger the impression the more indelible it is. Fear is such an impression, it squeezes are sensibilities like a vice and allows little in or out, and only such that feeds its wantonness. But, like all fixations it has many weakness, and its hold can be broken by a happy whisper, by a gentle caress.

I convey to you, and from my heart, that if you take the chance, if you take that leap of faith that you will find a life transformed, a soul renewed. If you ask for it, it will be yours because it is in YOUR nature to do so. There are no tricks, no mantras and no prayers needed. There is fulfillment in full view, everyday on every corner, in every sky. If you let this be your impression, what impresses you, then your soul will fly up to greet you like a fervent kiss on expectant lips.

Cheers,
Basso
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Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 1:37 pm

Hmmm...that's enough for now...I must run and hide before basso comes after my azz....LOL....enjoy!
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Limerick anyone?

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 3:00 pm

basso wrote:There once was a twitcher who posted

I can twitch rather better than mosted

I can twitch with a beat

It's hip-hop in my feet

and my Robot is wicked he boasted
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All Quiet on the Western Front

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 3:04 pm

basso wrote:These pages are so oddly quiet. How wonderful that our American friends are so belaboured with their turkey and wine, that they have hardly the where with all to rise from the couch to pee, much lest post. Where are those wonderful cries for help, that so fuel the errant knight in poor Basso; and make him rush to the rescue.

I thought the Europeans or my fellow Canadians might provide purpose for me, that they might write of such travails that my heart strings would be plucked and resonate such responses, but no.

It leaves me wonder if there is BFS.com after all, or if it was just a world of my make believe. Like Alice I have fallen through the rabbit hole, and find myself in a terrible and real world called life. How awful. There are people here who one can touch physically and have voices of such callousness that I shrink in trepidation.

My finger just twitched, the original one (sin), I must be real, I have to be a bfser. Does my voice not carry on any wind, to any corner, where real live cyber-friends might hear. Let me know that where I am now is falsehood, I beg you help....please.

Basso
Alone in the world, alone...alone....crying....alone.....(in a very wee voice indeed) someone..help me..please
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Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 3:15 pm

and...still one of my faves...

basso wrote:Yes I agree. Does this thread even belong here?...I don't know, but probably because it addresses a lot of other irrelevant posts.

I'm sure I don't want to hear about hermaphroditic religious wing nuts that come from Mars. I mean I just don't...I won't apologize for it. If they want to come to our world then they better just come and fit in, and not get their antennae in a twist when we start having sex with their women folk...oops, I forgot they are hermaphrodites and probably just self-procreate. No, I don’t think that is cool. Sex should be with another person…or persons.

Anyway, I support Wolvy a hundred percent. I hate the man/woman on the street. Fu*k 'em, that's what I say. Same for the posers, religious zealots, animal activists (shyt there just animals for cryin' out loud), feet fetish addicts, and g*y people (why should they have all the fun, when I‘m not). Hey, while I'm at it, how about all those people who have their own little web site and want us to pay it a visit...yup, up yours too. I say down with blogs, frogs, egg nog, egg noodles, poodles, the whole kit and caboodle. Pink IS for women and sissies (cry a river), a perpetual 5 o'clock shadow looks the shyts.

I don't want to hear about gun control (but fu*k the NRA too), birth control, pro-life, half-life, shelf-life, Shiite, wars, smores, and most definitely not bores.

Intolerance...bite me, inclusion...bite me, "can't we all get along"...I said bite me!! 0 + 0 does not "equal rights," and who cares? Melting pot, smoking pot, on the dot...eat my snot.

I don't give a fig for Halloween, jelly bean, James Dean, Howard Dean, being broad in the beam, hearing about ice-cream (which btw, I started). If you're fat...I don't give a rat’s ass, if you're skinny...ditto. Middle age, stone age, stone henge, round the bend...whatever. Boinking...good for you, awesome, oinking...whatever, fill your boots.

I don't even care about BFS now...Wolvy you did this me. You made me angry, I got on a rant and now I'm completely lost. LOST!! Help, the little boy who was so terrified during the Xmas play has come to the fore....I can't remember my lines. I'm freaking...FREAKING.

(Basso is rocking back and forth sucking his thumb and won't be out to play for awhile)

Bill, SuziQ, JG...sniff, where are you?
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Suspicious New Member

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 3:16 pm

basso wrote:Posted: Thu May 05, 2005 8:18 am Post subject: Suspicious new member?

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Hey Everyone,

Just a potential heads up on the latest registered member. He has a website listed as "partnersuche-frauen" in German this means "looking for a partner-women."It may be entirely innocent but may radar has gone off. My apologies to Alainkitching if I am in the wrong. Perhaps the webmaster or moderator should take a look.

Cheers,
Basso
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Believe in your own wellness...

Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 3:30 pm

basso wrote:About 20 years ago I was a serious student of music. It was my dream to sing opera professionally, a dream that was never quite realized. My day, back then, depended on how well I had sung. If I was in good voice I would feel jocular and all things seemed possible. However, if I were struggling that day, a sense of frustration and restlessness would lurk in the background. In other words, my happiness was not based on my sense of self-worth, my spirit, or on my values, but rather on my idea of success. I did not come to this realization until relatively recently, in fact not until after I had gone through my initial crisis with BFS: when I thought that it might be something else. I am, no doubt, a slow learner.

How does this relate to BFS or any other ailment for that matter? Well, I believe that there is the tendency when one is afflicted with one thing or another to live in a state of perpetual suspension. We wait for such and such a symptom to pass. We wait for sleep to overtake us: we wait for morning in the hope of a better day. We wait for our Dr. or our Neuro to give us the all clear. This waiting game takes its toll; it ultimately stops us from just living, just being. The fact is that there are no absolutes and therefore no assurances that are 100 per cent.

For this reason we must to begin to believe in our own wellness, our own inner power. Clearly, for most of us, we have been told that the likely hood of anything-untoward happening to us is very, very remote. We have a proven that we are not physically weak, we recognize that there is an identifiable syndrome called BFS, and yet we are unable to obtain lasting strength from this and get on with our lives. Why is this? It would seem that outside assurances are not, in and of themselves, enough. Our neuro, our GP, About BFS.com, our spouses can grant us a reprieve from our anxiety, but they cannot establish in us a lasting sense of health. I would hazard a guess that even if a neurologist could sit with us everyday and tell us that we were probably well, we might still imagine the worst

How can we move past this insecurity? I believe that the answer can only be found within. (no, I am not talking about “the force.”) Who would deny that constant worry absorbs an enormous amount of energy. This worry clouds all else and is not easily swept away. Myself, I used to fuel my day with intensity and aggressiveness so that I would be up to the challenge of worrying all day long. By the end of the day I felt wiped-out, and yet would usually sleep badly because neither my mind nor my body could unravel fast enough, or completely enough to allow deep slumber. When we are calm and relatively untroubled we have a feeling of wellness. At those moments, for whatever reason, we are not suppressing our spirit (or what have you) with our troubles. This is a time when we can take advantage of this vital force by simply basking in its warmth: this in turn allows it to pervade both the conscious and the unconscious. You will smile; you might feel like you are being gently tickled inside. It has started, your road to believing in your own wellness. These new feelings are real and they give you strength because they are the very essence of you. You are connected. We must believe in ourselves, we are all, ultimately, all that we have.

Cheers,
Basso
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Postby SuziQ on October 1st, 2006, 5:27 pm

I guess that'll do for now.

I, for one, am grateful to you, Basso...my dear, sweet friend; for your kindness, your boldness, your wisdom, and your willingness to kick some azz from time-to-time.

You really are what my Jewish relatives would call a "mensch," which means; "someone to admire and emulate, someone of noble character."

Basso...our hero, mentor, and friend, you like, TOTALLY ROCK dude.


"I am a little pencil in the hand of a writing God who is sending a
love letter to the world." Mother Teresa

Thank you, Basso, for being God's pencil...

Blessings, and "cheers,"
Suzi
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Postby Josh on October 2nd, 2006, 3:57 pm

Sounds to me like someones got a 'crush' on Basso!
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