I couldn't say that this is my favourite Bob Dylan song.

That would be like a parent having favourite child.

But this is one of my go-to tracks.

It has that equal measures of resignation and defeat, mixed with a continued determined angry protest.

That in a way defines the conflict of the human existence and psyche.

When we want to give up, when that voice inside tells us to throw in the towel. We fight harder than ever.

It is an inner conflict.

It is survival, both instinctive and decisive.

When I ran a week of marathons I posted a track a day on social media.

This was my day 5 track.

My mother met me in the fifth city.

It was a turning point in our relationship that she would join my protest run and openly stand with those I ran for and against those we spoke out about.

While others chose to distance themselves.

It's alright ma... I can make it.

I was so broken I couldn't lift my feet to walk the evening I met her, I shuffled in slippers, she cried when she saw me.

I went on to do 3 more marathons.

I remember getting angry with my mother when she cried. I was scared of letting emotions in, I though if I did it would be my undoing and I wouldn't be able to make it through. I had to hold on.
I punished my body and didn't listen to it and now it is incredibly damaged.

I have learnt a lot since then, but I still struggle to know when to try harder and when to give in and stop.

I rely on denial as a strategy to endure and don't trust my intuition at all.

This I believe has a lot to do with having an undiagnosed connective tissue disorder for almost 40 years, and having my illness dismissed as psychological or behavioural since a very early age, and reinforced over time.

Only now that the damage to my body is devastating disabling, and undeniable and quantifiable on scans and tests, can doctors look back to when I was as young as 3, and identify the illness process.

Even with diagnosis there is still a huge gap in knowledge and appropriate treatment available for conditions such as Ehlers danlos syndrome.

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I am listening to Bob Dylan for inspiration to continue with the daily 100 day poetry challenge.

I am physically, and cognitively struggling

it's alright ma... It's life and life only.

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At high school we focused intensely on Robert Frost's The Road Not Taken.

Perhaps it was the process that destroyed the enjoyment of poetry. I found it to be a boring predictable themed piece about crossroads.

We tediously studied each word of a single poem and had the basic study guide themes spoon fed to us.

We didn't read another poem. Not of Frost or anyone else for that matter. We were doing an exam on that poem so we focused on answering questions about it only.

Rereading it now, it is a nice piece. It is hard to separate from the rote learning that took any magic away from it.

Source

I also don't recall ever attempt to write a poem at high school.

Steemit poetry contests have presented me with the opportunity to write creatively for the first time.

...and I'm loving it!

This is another Bob Dylan piece I love getting lost in.

It is spoken word.

Everyone should hear this at least once in their lives.

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Thank you steemit for enriching my life.