Someone commented that “try being my age you will really know what being invisible is then.”
It got me thinking of invisible people.  Not the super-hero types but the ones that tend to be ignored or overlooked.  Also not just the homeless.  They were known as the invisible people but at this time are being seen more and more.
Not that I set myself up, as I am as capable of selfishness as the next.  It is the action of those who act without thought for another.  Not thinking “if I do this how will it impact others?”
It seems to me being seemingly invisible can come with age.  I was helping build something with some young fellas.  They were talking indoor cricket.  I was not a part of the conversation at all, yet I have spent heaps of time playing indoor cricket and have a multitude of stories.  It was ok and I know life moves on, but it highlighted to me how one group can completely overlook another.
Merril being a nurse had a lot to do with seemingly invisible people.  One of her experiences that really impacted me was looking after an elderly lady.  No one would give her a second thought, but Merril found out she had been presented with something from Gandhi.
One of the saddest pictures I have ever seen (which I have not been able to find again) was a hunchbacked woman in front of empty shelves during the pandemic.  I do not know if it was real or not, but the thought was to me very real.  It reminds me of an ad I saw on tv which was only there for a short period, of an old fella getting a knock at the door.  He moved real slow and by the time he reached the door the visitor had determined no one was home and left.
I guess those sort of things mean heaps to me.  What to me may only take seconds can mean a heap to another.  Knowing they are seen.  Knowing they matter.

Like most I do like a variety of music.
I do have trouble with liking jazz though.  Having said that, I used to catch a bus from work to the train and sometimes sat with a guy that was into jazz.  Every Wednesday evening he would get together with mates and play.  As a player I imagine it is fun to ad lib but as a listener I was always looking for a beat, or an opportunity to tap along, and it did not seem to be there as often as I would like.
Having said that I imagine some would have trouble with me liking some rock and roll.  It is not an “always” thing but “sometimes” I like to listen to heavy music.  Head banging stuff.  Not everyone’s cup of tea for sure but as long as the words are ok I really can enjoy it.
Yesterday on my play list I was listening to a song that would fall into that category.  From the first bar I thought “this is roll and roll.”  I think I have written before about what it was saying but it got me again.  “She needs more than a hug on a holiday.”
I also have on my playlist the song by Phil Collins, “Another day in Paradise.”
For me compassion is desirable but difficult.  Often it means investing time and effort in another.  Sometimes that time and effort is seemingly a waste of time. (I laughed.  I thanked someone for reading an email of mine.  They said, “that’s 15 seconds of my life I will never get back.”)
Compassion is mostly more than 15 seconds.  But to me it is the right thing to do - sometimes despite the seemingly fruitless results.  I was reading yesterday about someone who came to the aid of another on several occasions but did not experience a reciprocation.
That to me says heaps.  I think the exercising of compassion has more to do with results in me than in the object of my compassion.  It is a bonus and the outward goal if someone else is helped.  But what happens on the inside of me I think can be gold if I let it.
I want to grow as a person.  Sometimes that means going down to go up.  Results in me I can control.  Results is others is their business.

There is no doubt in my mind, my world changed for me when I had the stroke.  I guess I take solace in the fact it was brought on by the cutting of an artery to get to a mass that had been found in my brain.
It seems weird to be thankful for something in those circumstances, but I often say if a person is to have a mass in the brain, that is the place to have it.  I say that because people often die from masses in the brain.  Mine was at the back and could be gotten to.
Poor Merril had been told I would never walk again, and I would be dead in six months.  I have a walker and wheelchair that fortunately sit idle.  Having said that, I do fight fears I never knew existed.  Things are a battle that were easy peasy and I never thought about.
One thing I know it has shown me though is how I take so much for granted that really is a gift.  In an instant, life changed and my world was turned upside down.
One thing I am glad of, is growing up knowing someone has my back, believing in the best in myself and promoting the best in others.  I am thankful that it is not a “woe is me” thing but a “get on with it” thing.  It would be so easy to bemoan what I have lost, and to miss what I still have.
For a start it could have been way worse than it is.  I often liken it to a guitar that now has four strings rather than six.  The thing to me is a beautiful melody can be produced on four strings.
I appreciate those with disabilities (or should I say other abilities) are being catered for right now.  I do think the days where it is are coming to an end.
Still my outlook is not built on what is promoted as acceptable in some quarters, but what is acceptable in what many regard as unacceptable.
To me hope is not solely the domain of the apparently altogether, but also the domain of the  down and out – the overlooked.  No matter how long suffering in a lifetime is, a lifetime is but a blip in time and eternity.  My anchor lies there, and not in what will not last.