What makes
miracle especially exciting and exhilarated is that there’s no sign when they
will happen. As fragile, broken and not a whole as I am now, I still believe
miracle will happen. It will come at any moment, perhaps not today, perhaps not
next month, but one year from now, who knows? There’re things I can image from
right now to make sure I’m prepared when miracle happens and I’m in a good
shape again.

Here are
three things I want to do: run, travel and hold. Run, means run as fast as I can,
with cheerful sweat shinning under the morning sunlight—not this suffocating
sweat wrapping up my fragile body right now, no, I want to sweat from running,
exciting and vitality. Travel means explore the outside world, to go as far as I
can. I want to bring my mum to Tibet, I want to visit to France and Italy, the
world is big and there are so many places I want to see. And finally, hold
means to hold on to life, hold on to a good, healthy habit, hold on to the ones
I love. That is the key.

Stay away
from fears and horrible thoughts that could fall over on you. Those mental escapes
can help you if you’re trapped at bed or in hospital, but what if you feel so lightheaded
that you can’t focus, that even your imaginations can’t break free from the
limits of your broke body, where your heart beats so fast that it drowns out
almost everything? You want to lie down, close your eyes, and save your strengths
for the next round fight. Just remember, it’s a long-time battle. Occasionally being
defeated means nothing.

If you are
able to get off the bed, take a walk, breathe some fresh air. Get yourself
ready and miracle will come.