BLOG 375–LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

✨KITTING AROUND✨
BLOG 375–LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

This Video will let you know more about me–
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lr8QFnD1yGc
This Blog is Best Read on a Laptop, Rather than Your Phone.
By KIT SUMMERS — World-Class Juggler to World-Class Comeback

To Learn More about Kit, Go Here >> https://kitsummers.com/about-kit/
Once upon a life, I made gravity nervous—
Headlining at Ballys, tossing clubs with a grin.
Seven of them. A world record—
Because physics loves a good insult. 😄
Then came the truck—the coma.

Thirty-seven silent days offstage.
And here I am now—not juggling clubs.
But throwing purpose, grit, and joy.
Balancing healing, catching courage.
Tossing hope sky-high. 🤹‍♂️

The mission grew bigger than applause.
Now I lift humans. I write to stay connected.
I write because it’s how I breathe.
If these words help you, too?
That’s magic catching air. 🎉

What’s next on Kit’s journey through life?
Back to juggling? Back to life?
Stay with Kit and find out.
Life can get better.
Life will get better. ✨

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Part 1) THE BEGINNINGS

THE TIME IS NOW!
Embrace the Present—Immediately.
Right here. Right now.
This breath, this moment—it’s not a rehearsal.
There’s no dress rehearsal for this wild, beautiful ride.

YOU CAN DO IT!
Life is happening live, unscripted, a one-take performance with no reruns and no rewind button. So drop that overstuffed suitcase labeled “what if” and “what’s next.” It’s heavy, it slows you down, and truth be told—you don’t need it. Step instead into the electric hum of this instant. Feel it. Own it. This is where your life is actually being lived.

STAY ACTIVELY ENGAGED.
Life isn’t meant to be watched from the sidelines like a quiet spectator sport. No, no—you’re in the game. Whether it’s learning something new, laughing until your ribs ache, moving your body, or creating something from nothing… keep showing up.

KEEP STEPPING FORWARD.
I don’t care if you’re 25 or 95—step into the ring, take your swing, and try the thing. Perfection is overrated anyway; the real magic shows up when you do. It’s in the attempt, the stumble, the laugh, the “well, that was interesting—let’s go again.” The spark isn’t hiding in some flawless finish line… It’s alive in motion. You move, it moves with you—growing brighter with every bold, imperfect step forward.

FIND MEANING AND PURPOSE.
You’re not here to sit quietly in life’s waiting room, watching the clock tick—you’re here to light the place up like a sky full of fireworks. Purpose isn’t some hidden treasure buried miles away, hoping you’ll stumble across it one lucky day… It’s something you spark, shape, and build right where you stand, with what you’ve got, in this very moment.

NOW!
Your life is built—moment by moment, choice by choice—through what you care about and how you choose to show up. Follow what lights you up inside. Chase that spark. And when you find it? Share it. Let your fire become a torch that helps light the way for others.

SAVOR LIFE’S SWEETNESS.
Go ahead… eat dessert first. 🍰 Why not? The rules were mostly made by people who forgot how to play. Dance in the kitchen like nobody’s grading you—because this isn’t a test, it’s a celebration. Let your hips write poetry and your feet sign their name at the bottom.

YOUR LIFE.
Laugh louder than necessary—actually, make “necessary” your warm-up round. Let it echo, let it bounce off the walls, let it remind the room that joy still lives here. The world won’t dim because you shine—it brightens. And that sunset? Don’t just glance—witness it. It pulled strings all day just to show off for you. Because in a way… it did. 🌅

JOY IN LIFE.
Joy isn’t some rare luxury reserved for special occasions. It’s fuel. It’s medicine. It’s the sparkle that makes the whole ride worth taking. Don’t wait for “someday” to enjoy it—today is already dressed up and ready.

MAKE IT COUNT.
This isn’t about stuffing your calendar until it bursts—it’s about filling your days with life. Real life. Say yes more often. Try something new, even if you wobble a little (especially if you wobble a little). Stretch beyond what’s comfortable—that’s where growth flexes its muscles.

DAY ONE.
Because one day—way down the road—you’ll look back, and the scorecard won’t be about safety. It won’t list how carefully you tiptoed or how perfectly you stayed inside the lines. It will ask something simpler and far more powerful: did you show up, did you reach, did you truly live?

STRETCH.
You won’t remember the days you shrank to fit—you’ll remember the moments you expanded beyond it, when your pulse picked up, your hands felt a little shaky, and something inside whispered, this matters—that breath before the leap, the spark in your chest, and the grin that followed, because in the end it’s never about how safe you stayed, it’s about the times you looked fear in the eye, gave it a wink, and said, “Let’s go anyway.” 🚀

RISKS.
The risks that made your hands shake become the stories. The leaps that didn’t go perfectly become the strength. Every bold move, every brave try, every time you stepped into the arena of your own life—that’s what shines when you look back.

LIFE.
Because life isn’t asking you to be careful—it’s inviting you to be alive. So speak up, step forward, try the thing, chase the spark, laugh too loud, love too big. In the end, it won’t be about how well you avoided the drops—it’ll be about how many times you dared to toss the ball into the air and trusted yourself to catch it.

YOUR STAGE.
So go on… step onto your stage. The spotlight’s already on—you don’t need permission. Toss the balls in the air. 🤹 Maybe you drop a few—good! That means you’re in the act.
And don’t just count the days…
💥 Make each day COUNT! 💥
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PART 2) THINGS THAT HAPPENED THIS WEEK Kit’s Daily Delights — Inspiration, Freshly Served. Every week, I sit down to map my week—and every time, it begins the same way: a blank canvas. Nothing there. It still surprises me. That quiet moment, just before I fill it in… when the whole week is wide open, waiting for me to decide what it becomes. And here’s the beautiful truth—you’ve got that same wide-open canvas, too. Start now and make the life YOU want!

>>>April 25
Saturday morning again… and the world feels like it’s tiptoeing. The hallways are quiet—no carts rolling, no chatter bouncing off the walls—just the soft rhythm of my fingers tapping the keys, like a one-person band playing to an audience of echoes. There’s something almost sacred about it… this stillness, this pause before the day decides what it wants to become.

I stepped outside for my daily “butt patrol”—my unofficial title, Captain Clean-Up 🧢. Same mission, different day. Bending, picking, clearing… one small act at a time. It’s not glamorous work. No applause. No spotlight. Just a quiet effort. But there’s something powerful in that, too. Because while others pass by, I’m shaping the space—making it a little cleaner, a little better, a little more cared for than I found it.

And yeah… the thought crossed my mind: Will they miss this when I’m gone? But maybe the better question is this—did it matter while I was here? And the answer is a strong, steady yes. Because impact isn’t measured by applause… It’s measured by presence. By consistency. By the things you do when no one’s watching.

Every cigarette butt picked up, every piece of trash tossed away—it’s a quiet statement: “This place matters. I matter. Effort matters.” I’m not just cleaning a space… I’m leaving a signature. A mark of dignity. A whisper that says, “Someone cared here.” And whether they notice later or not, I showed up—I made a difference—and that, my friend, is a performance worth a standing ovation. 👏

As I stepped out for a fresh haircut—clipper in hand, confidence riding high like a man about to sculpt a masterpiece—I fumbled the razor… and down it went. 💥 One dramatic dive to the floor and—just like that—game over. Blade finished. Haircut humbled. Whoops. 😄

For about ten bucks, a brand-new clipper is already on its way—meaning the legendary self-barber shop will be reopening soon. ✂️ And let’s be honest… the results still rival any salon in town, just without the stack of dusty 1997 magazines, the mystery cough from across the room, and the cost. Be your own haircutter, you will save money.
https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0F53K8Y1G?ref=ppx_yo2ov_dt_b_fed_asin_title&th=1

Weekends around here move at the speed of a turtle walking in molasses in winter. Slow… quiet… stretchy. I spent a good chunk of today on YouTube, letting the hours drift by like clouds with nowhere urgent to be. Not a bad thing—just a different rhythm.

But here’s where things start to sparkle… I reached out to the San Diego Circus Center about bringing my juggling and performance workshop to their stage. 🎪 Not just tossing a few objects in the air—but igniting confidence, rhythm, and that magical moment when someone realizes, “Hey… I can do this!”

Now that’s a spark. The thought of heading back to San Diego—where I grew up, where the sun doesn’t just shine but performs, where the air hums with possibility—has me smiling before my feet even hit the ground. It feels like the kind of place where doors don’t just open… they wink at you.

This is one of the places I used to perform in San Diego

Funny how life works, isn’t it? One moment you’re dropping a razor like it’s the grand finale… the next, life’s sliding a golden doorway right in front of you: a little chaos, a little magic. I’ll take the whole package—because sometimes the broken moments are just the drumroll before something extraordinary walks on stage. 🎭

>>>>> April 26
Sad news to start the day—but this story still has miles to go.
I heard back from Mara at >>
https://www.sandiegocircuscenter.org/
They were kind, appreciative, and encouraging…
but their schedule is packed for the window I had in mind to present my juggling workshop.

And yet—this isn’t a “no.” Not even close. This is a “not right now.” And “not right now” is just opportunity stretching before it lands. You and I both know how this goes: doors don’t always swing open on cue—but they do open. I’ll find another way to bring the workshop to San Diego this July. The balls are still in the air. 🎪

On the physical side of things, there’s been a tug-of-war. A few weeks ago, compression socks were recommended for ankle swelling. Things improved, I ditched the socks (no love lost there), and life felt lighter. But now, after being under the weather, the mask is back in the picture. Not exactly a fan favorite either.

So here’s the play: adapt, adjust, and keep moving forward. If that means more time in your room for now, so be it. Even a lion rests between hunts. This isn’t retreat—it’s recalibration. Health first, momentum always. The mask is already off. I hate those things.

Yet, I wish I could find a Bugs Bunny mask. “Hey, what’s up, Doc?” You know, the Halloween mask look. Well, I just ordered it, and it will be here in a few days. Have you ever answered the question, “So, what’s up, doc?” I will include a photo, but you have to let me know what you think. If anyone ever tells me to wear a mask, out comes Bugs Bunny, and a smile on my face.

Because whether it’s a packed schedule, stubborn socks, or a mask you’d rather launch into orbit… none of it gets the final say. You do. Now I have to do the work toward the workshop in SD and get better myself.

As evening settled in, “The Good, the Bad and the Ugly” lit up my screen—and just as quickly, my imagination. With Clint Eastwood leading the charge, it pulled me right back into that dusty, gun-slinging world. I’ve ridden this trail before… and you know what? It still hits the mark. A classic that doesn’t just play—it lingers. One of the bad guy characters is named “Tuko”. Tuko Fugisaki did the exellent artwork in my book, Juggling with Finesse. She has not seen the movie yet.

>>>>April 27
THE WEEK BLINKS… AND WE’RE IN MAY 🌅

The week is closing its eyes, and somehow… we’re already staring at May. Time isn’t walking—it’s sprinting. And it leaves behind that quiet little tap on the shoulder: “Hey… are you using this?”
Because life keeps moving—with or without us, the question is… are we moving with it?

THE SCHEDULE THAT DIDN’T STRETCH

I looked over today’s schedule, hoping for something that would sharpen me, stretch me—wake me up a bit. The only thing on the board? OT Group at 1:30. But if I’m being honest… it hasn’t delivered much in the past. And it’s tough to feel excited about something that doesn’t pull anything out of you.

Then came the morning twist—8:45 rolls around… I was supposed to be driven to see a doctor at 8:30. No ride. No update. Just silence. At some point, you stop chasing the schedule… and start realizing the schedule isn’t chasing you back.

From where I sit, it doesn’t look overwhelmed—maybe 20 patients total. And yet… it feels scattered. Disconnected. Like all the puzzle pieces are right there on the table, but no one’s stepping in to bring them together—no rhythm, no flow, just noise where there could be music. 🎵

SO… WE CREATE OUR OWN MOMENTUM!

And you know me—I don’t sit around waiting for life to get interesting. I step in and make it so. Life isn’t something to endure from the sidelines—it’s something to grab, shape, and play with. If the structure doesn’t rise to meet you… Then you rise anyway. So the day didn’t stall—it pivoted. And just like that, the game was back on. 🎯

Paige showed up to drive me—a bright spark, easy energy, pretty girl—
the kind of presence that lifts the whole ride without even trying.
And after we got back? Ohhh, here we go…
Up to my room. Showtime. 🎪

Relax—no funny business—I taught her to juggle!
Another one joins the circus!
That makes at least 35 new jugglers at NR.
By the time she left, she was already working on 3 balls. 🤹
And that moment—that spark when it clicks? That never, ever gets old.

QUIET WINS STILL COUNT
The doctor visit didn’t come with fireworks or big answers—Waste of time — hmm?
But it gave me something better: progress. Fewer medications. Less clutter.
A small shift in the right direction.

And yes… official confirmation—I’m still alive. 😄 Signed, sealed, delivered… with a smile and a yawn to match. Not every step forward bursts in with a drumroll and fireworks; some steps sneak in quietly, tap you on the shoulder, and whisper, “Hey… you’re getting there.” And you know what? Those are the ones that build you.

WHEN MOMENTUM GETS DROPPED
OT was scheduled from 1:30 to 2:30. By 1:45, we were told it was canceled—family emergency. And of course, that happens… life happens. But here’s the thing—momentum matters.
That session didn’t have to disappear.
It could have continued.
I could have led something.
Others could have stepped in.

Many of these activities are simple—games, movement, engagement. Kids’ games are a common filler. The kind of thing that doesn’t require a title… just initiative.
Sometimes it feels like the system forgets:
The people inside it aren’t helpless—they’re capable.

THE TRUTH ABOUT GROWTH
Yes—the patient often knows what works best for them. That insight? That’s gold. And too often, it gets overlooked. I respect the training these therapists have—but knowledge should never sit still. Growth demands variety. Creativity. Curiosity.
What I keep seeing is the same ol’, same ol’ loop.
And when things don’t change… people don’t change.

Real progress shows up when you challenge someone—meet them where they are, then gently push them just beyond it. That’s where the magic lives. ✨

SO WHAT NOW? 🎯
Forward motion isn’t something I decide to do—it’s something I am.
So I grin, rub my hands together, and ask the only question that ever really matters:
What’s next?

So here I am again—back in my room at 3:33, that quiet hour when the world feels like it’s holding its breath. A walk right now? That would be magic. Fresh air, a little movement, a reminder that I’m still very much alive and in motion.

But that simple joy sits on the “not allowed” list. And that’s the part that stings—not the rule itself, but what it represents. Because people aren’t built to be contained… we’re built to move, to explore, to choose. Freedom isn’t a luxury—it’s oxygen. And without it, even the strongest spirit starts tapping on the walls, whispering, there’s more life out there… and I’m meant to meet it.

This week I met Paige. She is a pretty girl who works at NR. She was the one to drive me to the doctor’s appointment. All our lives, we must keep inviting interesting people into our lives.

>>>>> April 28
Here we go again—the rhythm rolls on. Three meals a day… sometimes fashionably late, but they always make their entrance. I’m the gatekeeper, sure—but when the plate shows up like an eager fan, it’s hard not to take a bow and dig in. A little extra weight? Guilty. But hey—that’s on me. And ownership? Not a burden… a superpower. 💪

Just got the schedule for today. Delivered by the one who runs Speech—but I’ve chosen not to meet there, and yes, that was intentional. I’ve been told not to use names, so everyone stays anonymous across the board. At 10 a.m., it’s OT Group… which, if I’m being real, rarely stretches me or sparks anything new. I will explain the schedule in more detail later.

At 11, Exercise Group. Same tune, different verse. Movement without meaning—at least for where I am and what I need. It feels like walking into a gym where the weights are made of balloons. 🎈 Looks like effort… floats like fluff. Truth is, OT, PT, and Speech should evolve. People aren’t puzzles to be parked—we’re engines that need ignition.

Then—a message slips in. An opening for Speech. No fireworks, no marching band… just a quiet little clearing of the throat. 😄 And isn’t that how opportunity loves to arrive—soft, subtle, almost whispering, “Hey… I’m here if you’re ready.” The note comes from my speech therapist, and just like that, the door cracks open a little wider—and I step toward it.

So I’ll go. I’ll step in with curiosity instead of expectation. No resistance, no eye-roll—just a simple willingness to engage. Because now and then, the smallest door opens to something unexpectedly meaningful. And if nothing else? I bring myself into the room—energy, presence, awareness. Progress doesn’t always arrive with confetti… sometimes it sneaks in wearing a plain shirt called “yes.” 🎯

But then—plot twist! The day redeems itself. I’m scheduled to teach a juggling group. Now we’re talking. Energy shifts. Purpose walks in like it owns the place. This is where the rhythm changes—where I’m not just participating… I’m leading, giving, lighting sparks. And since I’m not using names… I guess I won’t even use mine. 😄

Breakfast showed up as oatmeal—warm, hopeful, trying its best. I gave it a polite nod from across the room… and a calm, confident, “No thanks.” Not rebellion—alignment. Every small choice is a quiet vote for who you are, and today, I chose something that makes me lean forward, not step back. ☀️ One small “no” makes room for a brighter “yes.”

From 10–11 a.m. in OT, we broke down the cost of a Mexican meal. If I’m honest, it didn’t move the needle—no stretch, no spark. Funny enough, I’ll be making my own salsa for Cinco de Mayo—now that’s real-life learning with flavor and purpose. 🌶️ This session felt more like filler than fuel.

It’s a mixed group, all at different stages, which makes full engagement tough. A couple of people were asleep, and others struggled to participate. I do what I can—but I’m ready for work that challenges, sharpens, and brings a little fire. 🔥

I feel sorry to say that others seem far behind me in recovery. I am sorry they have had to go through things that I have already gone through. I saw a few were sleeping, as they were just coming out of their coma. I remember a time when I always wanted to sleep.

In this kind of environment, it’s challenging to find meaningful growth opportunities that align with where I am in my recovery. I do my best to support others when I can, but the overall structure doesn’t provide the level of challenge or engagement I need to continue progressing.

Exercise Group at 11 quietly vanished from the schedule, and word came down that too many people are under the weather, so my 2 p.m. juggling class is off as well. Not exactly the lineup I was hoping for… but that’s the game sometimes. When the stage clears unexpectedly, it’s just time to improvise.

My speech therapist’s words are in between the >> =====
THIS IS WITHOUT CHAT >>
=====
A strange meeting with my speech therapist today. She doesn’t like it when I run my words through Chat so I won’t put these through Chat. You have to remember, I write my words first, then run them through Chat. She is wondering why I continue to ask for therapy while I am here.

She told me I wrote some harsh words about the staff here. But, I do not lie, I write how I see things. I said I would be more careful in the future. I get the feeling that she no longer wants to work with or help me; she doesn’t see any progress.

My time here is limited—and I’m not sure she fully understands that. There doesn’t seem to be much interest in continuing to work with me. That said, I do recognize and appreciate the help she has given; it’s made a difference.
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THIS IS AFTER CHAT >>
A strange meeting with my speech therapist today—one of those conversations that leaves a little echo afterward. She’s not a fan of my running my writing through Chat, so I’ll keep this one as close to the source as possible. The truth is, I always start with my own words—raw, real, mine—and then I refine them. That’s part of how I grow.

She questioned why I keep asking for therapy while I’m here, and mentioned that some of my past words about the staff came across as harsh. I hear that. I don’t write to wound—I write to reflect what I see, what I feel, what I’m trying to make sense of. Still, I told her I’d be more mindful moving forward. Truth doesn’t have to be sharp to be strong.

But underneath it all, I felt something shift. A distance. Like maybe she doesn’t see the progress I feel inside… or doesn’t believe there’s more to uncover. And that’s a tough note to sit with, especially when you know your time here is limited and every day matters. I’m here to grow, to push, to get better—not to coast. And yet—credit where it’s due. She has helped me. There have been real gains, real moments that mattered. I don’t forget that. Not for a second.

So maybe this is just another Part of the journey—a little friction, a little misalignment. Even that has something to teach. Because at the end of the day, I’m still in motion. Still learning and still reaching.
And that counts for everything. 💫
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WHICH DO YO DO YOU LIKE BETTER–with or without chat?

A slow afternoon here. The clock is easing past 3 p.m., not rushing, not pushing—just gliding like it knows there’s no finish line to beat. The hallway hums in that quiet, in-between way, where even the air seems to be taking a nap. Time isn’t sprinting right now… It’s strolling, hands in its pockets.

And in moments like this, it’s easy to feel like nothing’s happening. But look a little closer—this is where life whispers instead of shouts. This is where thoughts stretch out, where ideas tap you gently on the shoulder and say, “Hey… got a minute?”

Because even a slow afternoon holds power, it’s a reset button in disguise—a chance to breathe deeper, think clearer, dream a little bigger. Not every moment needs fireworks—some are just quiet sparks, waiting for you to notice them.

So here we are—3 p.m. Not the end of the day… the pivot point. The hinge where possibility swings wide and the whole rhythm of the day quietly resets. The first act may be behind you—whatever it held, whatever it didn’t—but the second? Still unwritten, still alive, still crackling with spark. This is where the story takes a turn, where a new energy can slip in if you let it. The light hits a little differently now, doesn’t it? Like the day is leaning in and whispering, “There’s more… if you want it.”

This is the hour where most people coast… drift a little, scroll a little, wait for the clock to do the heavy lifting. But not me. This is where I lean in—where I shift from passenger to driver, from watching to creating. A quiet moment can flip into something electric: a breakthrough idea, a genuine smile, a surprising conversation, a story that taps you on the shoulder and says, “Ready?” And you don’t need fireworks to begin—just a step, a thought, a yes. That’s how momentum sneaks in… soft at first, then unstoppable.

Because life has a sneaky rhythm—it loves to tuck its best moves just after the slowest stretch, like a magician waiting for you to look away before revealing something brilliant. So stay in it. Stay open. Stay ready. Don’t check out when things get quiet—that’s often when the magic starts clearing its throat. The magic? Oh, it’s not gone… It’s backstage, stretching, smiling, waiting for its cue. And if you’re paying attention, if you’re still in the game… You just might be the reason it steps into the spotlight. ✨

>>>>> April 29
And the beat goes on—boom, boom. 💥 Each day, the cannons roar… can you hear them? It’s time marching, life insisting, another chance knocking, whether we answer or not. Today’s lineup is light—a walk from 9 to 10, Speech from 10:30 to 11—but the truth is, the schedule doesn’t make the day… You do.

And something is changing in me—quiet, powerful. Less and less weighs heavily on my heart. That’s not emptiness… that’s strength moving in, rearranging the furniture, opening the windows, letting fresh air rush through. You’re still here, still in motion. Still rising.

You’re not done—not even close.
There’s more in you. More to give. More to build.
So step up and MAKE IT HAPPEN. 💪

I had my sights set on the other park today with the walking group—ready to move, ready to test the engine. My body felt good—inhaler in pocket. Spirit revving. But I was held back. Maryann, a capable therapist, sees limits where I feel possibilities.

She walked me back, saying she couldn’t trust me—and that stung, not because I want to be reckless, but because I know the difference between pushing forward and pushing too far. I’m not trying to break myself… I’m trying to rebuild myself.

And that’s the fire right there. 🔥 The desire to test, to stretch, to see what’s possible again. That doesn’t come from ego—that comes from awareness, from listening closely to my body and my will lining up like two old friends finally agreeing on the next move. I feel that she is trying to control me, and that’s just not right.

The next place? That’s my runway.
More space. Fewer walls.
A chance to move like a man who knows himself.
And I will.
Carefully. Intentionally. Powerfully.
Because this isn’t about proving anyone wrong… It’s about proving to yourself what’s still right. I expect there won’t be people trying to control me.
**
10:30-11 I met with the person running speech therapy. She has been showing me how terrible my memory is, and I am understanding. Now I am sitting down to write details on what we talked about, and it’s not there. We even talked about what I may have eaten yesterday — not there. I don’t want just to live life and let things happen,

I feel terrible about my memory. Right now, I am trying to think about what we talked about—it’s just not there. It seems I often just let things merge and don’t separate the details. Do I need to write down every detail of everything that happens in my life now?

Just got off the phone with someone at the place I’m moving to—and wow… if first impressions are any indication, this next chapter is going to be something special. The energy felt right, the possibilities felt wide open, and for the first time in a while, I could almost see the life waiting for me there—more freedom, more movement, more room to grow into what’s next.

It’s that rare kind of excitement that doesn’t shout… it hums steadily in the background, saying, “Yes, this is the direction.” I’ll be sharing more as things unfold in future blog posts, but for now, just know this: something good is on the horizon, and I’m stepping toward it with a full heart and a ready stride.

>>>>> April 30
Summer looks to be on the way. Sorry, I won’t be here to make this garden I built magnificent. Hopefully, they will have some growth plans. I did present the idea of building the garden in the first place; I hope that is not forgotten.

The speech therapist just stopped by with an unexpected plot twist—no therapy sessions today, not one. 🎬 And I’ll be honest… I’m not quite sure what to do with that kind of wide-open space, but maybe—just maybe—that’s the moment: the unscheduled hour, the blank page, the part of the day where you get to decide what growth looks like.

No script, no structure—just possibility tapping you on the shoulder like, “Your move.” 😄 And honestly, that’s where the magic likes to hide. No sessions today… which means the canvas is wide open, waiting for you to splash something bold, playful, or unexpected across it. Today isn’t empty—it’s yours to create. Now, what will I do today?

This wave of tiredness drifts in and settles over me now and then—like it just did. I could easily lie down and disappear into sleep; it’s a strange, heavy pull. But some things matter waiting for me, and I’m going to meet them anyway—one step, one breath, one small win at a time.

Crayons and coloring books. I wandered down to the therapy room, curious why my schedule had gone silent for the day. Inside, a group sat coloring—heads down, crayons in hand, filling in shapes. And just like that, I understood why nothing had called my name. I quietly stepped back out, grateful for the clarity.

Because here’s the truth—recovery deserves more than staying busy. It deserves challenge, engagement, and progress. There are sharper tools, richer exercises, and more meaningful ways to wake up a healing brain. So the question lingers… why stop at crayons when the mind is capable of so much more?

>>>>> May 1
May Day, May Day, calling out May Day.

May 1 is primarily celebrated globally as International Workers’ Day (May Day), a public holiday honoring labor movements and workers’ rights, originating from the 1886 Haymarket riots in Chicago. It also marks a traditional European spring festival (Beltane) with traditions like dancing around a maypole.

As you know, I’ve been on a bit of a medical adventure lately—but plot twist: I’m getting better. 💪
First, my ankles decided to audition for a water balloon contest, swelling up and filling with blood, which landed me in compression socks. Not exactly a fashion statement I was aiming for… but hey, sometimes healing asks you to wear things you wouldn’t choose for the runway. 😄 I wore them, I stuck with it, and slowly—progress.

Only one “Therapy” today, if you would call it that. I will be making my salsa for Cinco de Mayo and we were scheduled to go and purchase ingredients today. She often comes to my room when we are going to do something. She stayed away downstairs (perhaps to avoice me?)

Then, just as I was finding my rhythm again, along came pneumonia. And yes… why is there a “p” in that word? Silent letters—proof that even the alphabet likes to keep us on our toes. I was told to wear a mask, so I did. Not glamorous, but necessary.

I’ve been noticing something lately—many of the actors from the shows I grew up loving, such as McHale’s Navy and M*A*S*H, have passed on. And yeah… there’s a quiet sadness that comes with that. These weren’t just characters on a screen—they were companions, voices in the room, part of the rhythm of life back then.

There is still hope; there is Alan Alda. At age 89 now, he keeps going!
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOu1auT8OYs
You can get there, too. Keep going. Keep searching. Keep finding. Keep living!

But then a thought slips in—gentle, honest, impossible to ignore. I’m heading that direction too. No one gets to sneak past that final curtain call. And oddly enough, that realization doesn’t just bring weight… it brings clarity. It whispers, “Hey… your time is still playing. What are you going to do with it?”

And that’s where the magic flips. Because those actors? They’re gone—but the laughter they sparked, the stories they told, the memories they helped create? Still alive. Still echoing. Still doing their job. Which means maybe the goal isn’t to avoid the ending… It’s to leave behind something that keeps smiling long after we’ve taken our final bow. 🎭✨

But—YOU ARE STILL ALIVE! And that’s not a small thing… that’s a thunderclap. ⚡ So don’t drift. Don’t coast. Don’t quietly fade into the background while the clock keeps ticking. Step in. Speak up. Do something that matters—something that lifts another person, even just a little.

Because every act of kindness, every bit of effort, every moment you choose to engage… it echoes farther than you think. There is still so much you can build, give, and become. Then there is Dave Finigan, who has done so much to add to the juggling world, is 85 years old, and continues to add to it. Here is about Dave >> Dave Finnigan – My juggling guru – Renegades Escapades.

Keep showing up with fire in your chest and purpose in your step. And when the final curtain does come, let it find you mid-motion—living fully, loving boldly, and leaving behind a trail of stories that say—”This one mattered.” 🎉 As you do. You’ve almost made it to Cinco de Mayo! Which is May fifth.

Cinco de Mayo commemorates the remarkable 1862 victory of Mexican forces over the invading French army at the Battle of Puebla. Against overwhelming odds, the smaller and less-equipped Mexican troops, led by General Ignacio Zaragoza, delivered a stunning defeat that ignited pride, resilience, and hope across the nation. It wasn’t just a win on the battlefield—it was a powerful reminder that courage, heart, and determination can outshine even the mightiest opponent.

THERAPY? All I have scheduled for today is to go to the store.
To buy ingredients for the salsa I will be making.
Happy Cinco de Mayo. Well, today is Uno de Mayo.
Have you made my salsa yet? It tastes great and is good for you!

SALSA!
MAKE SOME TODAY!
Use a large, roughly 5-quart bowl—give your ingredients some room to dance. Chop everything in a food processor into neat, quarter-inch bits, like a well-rehearsed rhythm section. Then keep the mixture moving—stir it on and off as you go, letting the flavors mingle, get acquainted, and come together into something greater.

Mix: One 15-ounce can of corn. One 15-ounce can of black beans. 1/4 cup of maple syrup.
One large can of peaches. One bundle of hand-chopped cilantro—two large red onions.
One jalapeno pepper–finely chopped. ½ cup of diced garlic. ½ cup of lime juice or three limes.
½ cup of lemon juice or two lemons. ½ cup of garlic salt. Two pounds of plum tomatoes

For hot salsa >>
Leave out the maple syrup and peaches.
Add 1 habanero pepper and 2 jalapeno peppers—or enough peppers to suit your desired heat level.

I ran my successful business, SummersSalsa, for 18 years, and many love my brew.
Make some for yourself; it will bring you a smile. See above on the make.
https://www.summerssalsa.com/
Then, while I was riding my bike one day.
I was hit by a truck and had to close down the business.

At that point, I did not know what I would do. So I purchased a 2001 Dodge Ram van and built the inside into a lovely home. I was so happy as I got on the road and drove to every national park and every state in the US. I loved the freedom of being out on the road.

I waited for the therapist to come to my room about going out to buy ingredients for salsa. She was downstairs and had expected me to come down. Oh well. I will buy the ingredients myself this weekend.

Right now, I think I will go out and work on the garden that isn’t mine. I do hope they keep it nice and have a good harvest. I would have left magnificence, oh well.

Many of the therapists are already gone. It’s about 3 pm, hmm, that doesn’t seem right. Of course, I am on the 3rd floor, and therapies take place on the first floor. But I was down there not too long ago, and no one was around.

Right now, I think I’ll head outside and tend to the garden that isn’t mine—but feels like it could be. 🌱 There’s something quietly powerful about caring for what you don’t own… like leaving fingerprints of kindness where no one’s keeping score. I hope they nurture it, keep it thriving, and enjoy a beautiful harvest. Me? I would’ve turned it into something magnificent—but hey, the seeds are still in the soil, and who knows what might grow.

It’s about 3 p.m., and the place feels strangely still. Most of the therapists seem to have vanished—like a magic trick without the applause. That doesn’t quite add up. I’m on the third floor, sure, and therapies happen on the first—but I was just down there, and it was quiet as a library at midnight. Maybe it’s one of those hidden pockets of the day… where the world pauses, catches its breath, and waits to see what you do next
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PART 3)–BLOG 375–LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!
At 3:33 a.m., the world is quiet enough to hear your own heartbeat think. That’s when he wakes up—not because he has to, but because something inside him refuses to sleep through life. The ceiling above him isn’t just a ceiling; it’s a starting line. Another day has arrived, and whether it’s dressed in gold or wrapped in grit, he’s going to meet it head-on—with one message echoing in his chest: LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

Years ago, I stood under bright lights, juggling not just balls but attention, applause, and awe. The rhythm was magic—toss, toss, catch, catch—like breathing with flair. Then one day, the rhythm broke. Life dropped everything at once. A coma. Silence. Stillness. The kind of stillness that asks a terrifying question: Is this the end… or a beginning in disguise? Somewhere deep inside that silence, a spark flickered and refused to go out. It whispered—no, it insisted—LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

When I woke, the stage was gone. The spotlight had vanished. Even walking across a room felt like climbing a mountain wearing invisible weights. Words hid from me. Balance betrayed me. The man who once amazed crowds now celebrated standing up. Many would have accepted less. Many would have folded into the quiet. But he had a different script running through his veins, louder now, stronger now: LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

So I started small—one step, one ball, one word, one stubborn decision at a time. While others counted limitations, I counted attempts. While the world suggested slowing down, I answered with action. “Let’s go anyway.” I picked up scarves before balls—colorful, slow, forgiving—and began again. Toss, miss, laugh, try again. Each drop wasn’t a failure; it was fuel. Each catch was a declaration: LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

And something beautiful happened. I didn’t return to who I was—I became someone more. Deeper. Sharper. Fiercer in Spirit. I began to notice life in places he’d rushed past before: sunlight sneaking through the window like it had something to say, laughter echoing down a hallway, the quiet triumph of tying your own shoes. Every moment became an invitation, every breath a reminder: LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

I started writing in the early hours, pouring my thoughts onto the page as they mattered—because they do–I want to help you! Because time isn’t guaranteed; it’s gifted. And gifts aren’t meant to sit unopened on a shelf. They’re meant to be lived, stretched, and explored. Fully. Boldly. Right now. LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!

So I turned it into a rule, a rhythm, a full-volume rally cry: don’t just be alive—LIVE. Talk to people like you mean it, try things before you feel ready, laugh louder than necessary (bonus points if someone turns around and smiles), fall, get up, and call it choreography 💃, eat the dessert, say the thing, take the step—because this isn’t a dress rehearsal, it’s opening night.

Because one day—and it comes quicker than we think—the curtain will fall. Not with a warning. Not with a drumroll. Just quietly. And when it does, he wants a life that echoes, a life that shouts back through time: I WAS HERE. I LIVED. I LOVED. I TRIED. I FELL. I ROSE. I LIVED UNTIL I DIED!

So at 3:33 p.m., I rise again. Not perfect. Not finished. But alive in the truest sense of the word—moving, reaching, daring. Because “LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE!” isn’t just something you say. It’s something you prove—moment by moment, step by step, catch by catch.

And if you listen closely—in that sacred hush before the world stretches and yawns—you might hear it… that inner voice with a grin on its face, giving you a gentle nudge and a bold invitation: You’re still here. So don’t tiptoe through it, don’t sit this one out—step in, speak up, light it up—because this moment, this breath, this chance is your cue: LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE! 🎉
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PART 4) 🔥 A FEW SPARKS TO SLIP INTO YOUR POCKET
✨ THE MAGIC OF QUOTES ✨
“Go for it now.
The future is promised to no one.” — Wayne Dyer.

“We only die once.
BUT!
We must live daily.” — Kit Summers.

Happiness is the only thing that.
multiplies when you share it.
—Albert Schweitzer

Positive anything is better.
than negative nothing.” — Elbert Hubbard

“Dream as if you’ll live forever.
Live as if you’ll die today.” — James Dean.

“Every man dies.
Not every man really lives.” — Braveheart.

“The trouble is,
” You think you have time?” — Buddha.

“Life is not lost by dying.
Life is lost minute by minute,
day by dragging day…” — Stephen Vincent Benét

“You only live once, for a very short time.
So make every second divine.” — Mitch Lucker.

“Life is too short to wake up with regrets.
So love the people who treat you right.
Forget about those who don’t.
Believe everything happens for a reason.
If you get a chance, take it.
If it changes your life, let it.
Nobody said life would be easy.
They just promised it would most likely be worth it.” — Harvey Mackay.
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PART 5) YOUR CHALLENGE THIS WEEK >>
Just imagine—tomorrow isn’t guaranteed. So the real question is: are you finishing what truly matters before the curtain falls? This week isn’t just another stretch of days—it’s a chance to lean into your future, get honest, and draw a bold line toward what counts. What do you want to accomplish before the end—and are you moving toward it today? You must always remember — LIVE UNTIL YOU DIE! 🎯
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PART 6) NEXT WEEK>>
BLOG 376–DON’T LIVE FOR THE FUTURE OR THE PAST
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