09/28/2026
I NAMED MY MOBILITY SCOOTER EPIPHANY.
Here's what Epiphany represents. I have lived with a heart condition all my life, and for most of my life, it really hasn't affected my lifestyle. But as I've gotten older, I've discovered that my legs are occasionally ready to go farther than my heart valve is willing to cooperate with. My heart simply can't pump fast enough to keep up with my feet. The funny thing is, almost everything else checks out spectacularly. I go to the gym twice a week and work the machines to keep my legs strong. I swim twelve Olympic laps a week. So physically, that's where I am on my journey. But mentally? That was another story.
I teach that the energy of our thoughts is the rudder guiding how we live. Well, Miss Priss wasn't about to buy a mobility scooter because I didn't want to tell my mind I was an invalid. Never mind that I was already becoming one—in my own peculiar way. I was dropping out of family trips, football games, downtown dinners, and other things I actually wanted to do because I couldn't walk far enough to enjoy them. Despite- or maybe because of- all my rigid spiritual thinking, I was making myself invalid.
Then I had lunch with one of my spiritual tribe and complained about the whole situation. I wanted the scooter. I did not want the scooter. I wanted the freedom the scooter could give me. I did not want to admit I needed the scooter. My friend finally said, "Stop that stinking thinking!" Then came the epiphany. "Turn your thoughts around," she said. "Don't make the scooter about becoming less capable. Make it about having more fun." DUH. There it was. Magic!
My thoughts were no longer about inevitable life changes. They became: LET'S PARTY! I bought the scooter. And naturally, I did not buy an ordinary scooter. Mine has racing stripes and a bumper sticker that says: "Too cute to stay home." That pretty much sums it up.
I don't care how much we think we know or understand. Spirit can still smack us upside the head with a 2x4 just to get our attention. Life changes are inevitable. That is a fact. How we approach those changes is the rudder that sets the course.
So now, instead of staying home because I can't walk the distance, I ride.
I took Epiphany on a trip to New York all by myself, be-bopping through DFW and JFK like I had somewhere important to be. And perhaps I did. I had places to go. People to see. And apparently, a little more partying to do.
That's what epiphany means to me: We recognize that the energy of our thinking is the rudder that determines the direction we take; however, we must be flexible and willing to look at our thoughts and realize, "Oh crap, I am the problem," and fix it.
