Peter M. Hunt's Blog, page 5

In shared humanity

Learn to quietly revel in the faults of others, not in an egotistical dance stemming from anger, fear, or desire, but secure in the heartfelt belief that embracing their failings elevates both of you in shared humanity, creating the imperfection that transforms art into a masterpiece, proving to a fragmented world in frightened disarray that it is all okay, that everything is as it should be.

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Here to play

With the winter sun quitting the western sky so early, I’ve developed a habit of taking the boat out to watch the sunset in communion with nature. The nightly ritual gets me out of the house while enjoying the water’s healing powers. Solo boat rides, often playing in the dark currents under the Deception Pass Bridge, also keep me sharp.  Maybe just a little scared, too.

The need to radio the Coast Guard is not uncommon in the vicinity of Deception Pass for various reasons, the most common bei...

The hard way

What makes a person resilient? Why do some people with a Parkinson’s diagnosis remain active through their second and even their third decade, while others don’t make it five years? One answer might be that societal pressure to treat a person with a severe ailment as a victim disempowers them, significantly diminishing their ability to fight back.

Before frightening anyone, let me explain that the danger is with those playing the long-term victim role. It is okay to temporarily play the part ...

In the land of Walmart

Leaving town after shopping at Walmart, I noticed a woman approaching each car as they stopped for the traffic light. Judging from her neat clothes, she was not a typical homeless person. She carried about a dozen flower bouquets of four roses a piece. According to her cardboard sign, all proceeds went to support her family of four.

Despite her well-groomed appearance, she was, indeed, homeless, an Afghan refugee in Washington State for regional resettlement. A collective guilt washed over me...

Dead easy.

My son, Jared, and his fantastic girlfriend, Maddi, left this morning after a visit punctuated by deep conversation and hikes. Yesterday, Jared gave me an early Christmas present.

Jared didn’t fall far from my irreverently twisted humor tree. Past gifts include an “I ain’t dead yet, Mother Fuckers” coffee mug and a t-shirt sporting the pithy statement “Not today, Satan.” The icing on the cake was my 60th birthday when Jared and my daughter pooled resources to buy me a wheelchair. I silently v...

A ham-fisted ally

Living landlocked is not for me – being close to the ocean is a must. From my long-time hobby, shipwreck diving, to my first real job as a navy A-6 Intruder carrier pilot, to where I choose to live today, the ocean’s influence on my life has been nothing short of monumental.

Military flight training appealed to my adolescent mind. But the notion of launching from a ship thousands of miles out to sea, with no emergency shore-based airport available, compelled me to join the navy. The sea was m...

Home

It rained all day, imparting a halting melancholy to the prevailing mood for my wife, the dogs, and me; we all seemed affected. The summer was gone, and it was time to start the work to prepare for winter, an indelible tarnish to the gold in our remaining years.

But by late afternoon, blue was on the horizon, a rich shade of azure reflecting nature’s compensatory response to the earlier rain. It was going to be an impeccably clear sunset.

Magnificence is universal in the Pacific Northwest,...

A precarious trail

Ordinarily, my many sleepless nights are exercises in boredom relief, but yesterday was different. In the early morning, around 3:00 am, despite overeating the day prior and ignoring an uncomfortable fullness in my gut, I allowed Parkinson’s to leverage my gluttony into an agonizing near-win for the disease. Maybe.

Almost immediately after finishing a bowl of granola, I doubled over in excruciating pain. It felt like my intestines were being twisted and yanked back firmly in a repeated cycle ...

Freedom in this world

On my walk today, I reflected on the meaning of freedom. Given the proclivity of freedom as political justification in foreign and domestic national decisions, including going to war, the definition of “freedom” seems rarely debated.

It struck me, first and foremost, there must be the freedom to ask the question. Many other peoples are not so fortunate as in the United States where our constitution’s first amendment guarantees freedom of expression.

To be truly free, I would also need the ...

Comeback

As Parkinson’s symptoms worsen, I am grateful for all that is going well in my life. I’ve decided to mount a comeback.

Parkinson’s, you no longer get to enjoy a predictable reaction to your craven overtures. After almost 18 years of dealing with this cowardly disease, I can now see that Parkinson’s is terrified of losing its power through the recognition that it is no more than a nuisance.

I intend to have fun. Parkinson’s loses any perceived power it may have wielded when dragged from the...