Well, here I am in Arkansas.  I have tried getting a job.  I’ve tried to join a church.  I’m used to being busy.  Back in Oregon, I was playing the piano for weddings and funerals, writing, painting, building, designing and making handbags, going to seminars, and teaching.

Here, they don’t seem to quite know what to expect from me.  I should be helpless.  That’s a given. 

I’m not helpless.

I AM, however, extremely bored.  And boy, am I lonely.

Where do I go from here?  I’m seriously considering going back to Oregon.  The problem with that is:  My husband works here, in Arkansas now.  So we would have to live separately, seeing each other every few months.  And as he has told me, over and over, that’s not much of a marriage.

But I’m going insane.  There isn’t even a ramp out of the apartment complex, so I can’t go out exploring in my motorized wheelchair.  Well, I can go out.  I just can’t get back in. 

The people in Arkansas are nice, but there are the usual walls.  Like when I offered to help teach the children or help with the music.  I’ve been teaching since I was 15, and involved in music at church since before I can remember.  I play several instruments and sing, and have done so professionally.  But my wheelchair and I have been advised to volunteer as a Summer reader at the local library.  Which is cool, but if that’s all I ever do…

I’m not saying people think I’m less capable because I’m in a wheelchair.  I don’t know what they think.  I know it’s harder, since the car accident, to work my way in anywhere as a truly valuable asset.

And I have to watch how I act when I first meet people, or else they often assume I am lacking in the intelligence department.

It’s all very frustrating. 

I still admire beauty.  I still love working with children.  I still enjoy learning new languages, and new musical instruments.  I’m still me. 

I’m just sitting down.