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Stop and rest with me, traveler. We’ve gone many places across time and space, and although we’ve paused for recuperation along the way, surely we are both weary.
The present quest has nearly reached its end. I have found answers I did not expect, and others I knew were hiding away. I hope you, too, have found some answers, or at least insights, on this journey.
Nearly a year ago, I began this project. Much has changed in that time. I’ve moved, gained new pets, formed relationships and watched others fizzle out. My health has grown more complex, more difficult to support and bargain with.
But my commitment to writing, to telling you these stories, has only grown. This quest may be ending, but there are untold others waiting to begin.
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The purple running shoes. Once, they were a source of shame for me. A reminder of the ability level I once had, the ability I chased ardently for many years.
But that chase tired me more than the pain itself. Eventually I could sustain the hoping no longer and collapsed under its weight. For a while, the shoes lived in the closet, out of sight. A hidden shame.
Now, they rest proudly to the left of my daily-wear shoes. Each time I pull them out, I am briefly frustrated by their slightly-too-short laces, and then ease into the comfort of their foam.
I do not run in these shoes, because I do not run. Perhaps one day I will, but that is not a goal I’m working toward.
Instead, I use the shoes for long walks. They have less arch support than my standard shoes, thus making my foot work harder. They are another of my many tools for exercising the muscles in my foot and keeping up physical therapy. Keeping my equilibrium, so I may walk and do daily activities with minimal pain. But not so I can run.
These shoes are special to me, and I will mourn the day I must replace them. They’ve seen me through years of change, and their role in my life has shifted throughout those changes. I wish they had never brought me the shame they once did, but I know it is not their fault.
As the seasons turn, leaves crunch beneath their soles, then snow compacts, and rain leaks in. They remain roughly the same, even if occasionally dampened. A physical constant with emotional flexibility.
They have supported me well for this walk through the woods of disability. And what a lovely, meandering walk it’s been.
The Disabled Witch will return with Season 2 on July 22, 2025.
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Ashton Rose 