Strangely, I can relate Parkinson’s to this; it’s another way the disease has been a gift (albeit a gift that keeps on taking). The deliberation with which I approach each day, each second, each movement, each intention—can literally slow me down to a crawl. All of those seconds, all of those minutes, are considered; I have a mini-conversation with myself about my every move. I’m taking my time. Time isn’t taking me.
