Just When You Think

You probably shouldn't (think).

Wow it's been a doozy folks! All around the world, the little chaos meter is bubbling away. It can be hard to take our eyes off it all. 

But maybe it's time for a few more naps, a little more reminding ourselves of our lesser known moments like joy and humor. Last night I experienced deep belly laughs in a family game night with old-fashioned games like Password with little plastic sleeves called "leatherettes". In the 1980s, these game companies really thought we'd be fooled that plastic is leather, apparently. 

My vegan, nonsmoking, nondrinking, organic food eating, distance walking self was shocked to learn last week that I have breast cancer. And yet it somehow feels in keeping with the patterns of my life or life in general. Just when you get a little too comfortable ... like 6 months after moving into the first rental in a long while that feels like home and you restore your financial losses from 2020 ... whamo, the chaos meter dials up a notch and you are back to an uncertain path of entering countless medical facilities during a pandemic.

I'm getting tested for BRCA gene, withdrew prior plans to forge a new way to live into my heart, and will spend the next months focused on paying medical bills and recovery from surgery. I will not be using this blog to list all details of my journey, but instead will mention only the big-ticket items and insights. I imagine the slowness of recovery may involve the eternal life raft of knitting, so to that end, I'll share here. Fortunately, I am surrounded by loving family and community charities who can pick up pieces for me, but oh how I really don't wish to be here again, seeking support in order to survive. 

Interestingly, as an acupuncturist told me, energetically breast cancer represents overgiving patterns and blocks against receiving, so I will practice receiving and trying not to feel so darn bad for the people caring for me. I tend to go to nature to receive, but I am awful at it for humans. 

Now that I am experiencing the C-beast from the caregiver, clinic note (transcribed oncology reports 2 years), and patient side, I hope I can use my wisdom someday to serve others. For a decade I've held a vision of myself leading/guiding small circles of diverse people in the woods. I'm pretty clear at this point that I do not want to be sitting in a room alone typing until my last breath, but for now it continues to be my 26-year self-supporting survival mechanism. Transcribing continues, with some measure of gratitude I can work from home protected in a physically compromised state while pandemic surges. 

I've started a private Facebook group called Healing Outdoors Now where anyone can gather to share nature images and words of inspiration about nature's nourishment. You don't need to be in the cancer world to join. Feel free to stop on by.