Monday, May 25, 2009

Simple Pleasures; Gratitudes

5-25-09


Last Sunday, family and friends surprised me with a party celebrating my cancer remission status and my graduation from Kairos School of Spiritual Formation in May, despite going through chemo. I am humbled and overwhelmed by the love and support of so many dear people in my life. I am so blessed by all the cards, gifts, weeping cherry tree and red twig dogwood I received. I had wanted a red twig dogwood to plant in memory of Hutch, so this surprise gift is especially touching. The shrub will be a reminder of Hutch’s fiery devotion to me, and the rich love of my family. I'm quite aware this particular pleasure is not in the 'simple' category, so my deepest gratitude goes to all who planned.

I plucked some stray hairs from my face today. While chin and raggedy eyebrow hair smacks of aging rather than glowing health, I can't help grinning over these fine hair specimens.


Speaking of hair, my head is not covered red, curly fuzz. All along I’ve told God I deserve strawberry blonde curls after surviving a chemical nicknamed the ‘red devil’. It is nice to be comforted by God’s laughter. I’ve given up on red, but I’m still holding out for curls.

Carey, my 10yr old cattle dog, plays with a long-legged stuffed monkey, a toy she hasn’t had since puppyhood. The same puppyish enthusiasm fills her as she lays cat-like, belly up, dangling the monkey between her paws and high over her head. She grins, tongue lolling, teeth snapping at the skinny legs dangling above her face.


My perennial garden looks fantastic from a distance. It shows off a riot of emerald, jade and golden green, with sprays of periwinkle phlox, spikes of regal purple lupine, dots of daisy yellow, delicate splashes of sea foam pink and bold geranium red. Unfortunately, up close reveals lots of weeds. When I get down on my knees, grateful for earth and sky and sun, even the weeds are lovely. Last summer’s Queen Anne’s lace, and the fatigue that prevented me from nipping the flowering seed heads, brings a spring carpet of lacy, fern-like aromatic seedlings. As I weed, I celebrate the plants’ fecundity, their subtle carroty fragrance, and the memories of beautiful white lacy flowers bundled in blue glass jars and old tin buckets decorating my son’s wedding two autumns ago.


Last Wednesday, my oncologist, Dr DeGreen, entered the exam room – baaing. Laughing, I told him he sounded like a sheep, not a goat. After discussing scan results (they are still clear enough to be called ‘in remission’) he told me my immune system may take two years to recover from lymphoma and chemo. I listened, knowing he was saying ‘please no’ to my ongoing question of drinking raw goat milk again. Then he grinned, pretended to stifle a shudder, and added, “but if you really want to, you have my permission’. Regardless of what I do about milk, I was touched. I’m grateful he respects my choices, and my understanding of health and healing.

Joyfully,
Sharon

Friday, May 15, 2009

Transitions

A cardinal sings every day. His song follows me around where ever I am, inside or outside. Red birds are a strong symbol of God’s presence for me. This one is special since we seldom have cardinals come to our bird feeders. A cardinal coming and staying is a miracle! I’m so grateful for this precious gift, this scarlet show of Love and Presence.

I’m in the midst of many transitions. Chemo is over; school is over. How will I now live? Tuesday, I celebrated not having to go to the cancer center. I’m utterly thrilled to be on this side of cancer treatment, while holding tenderly in my heart and prayers all those who struggle on with chemo.

The PET scan is behind me, as of noon today, and a CT scan follows on Monday. I smile wondering if being slightly radio active will ruin the laptop I’m using, and remembering my shock and disgust at having to do these scans again. I smile knowing how I felt so peaceful this morning, so loved by God that being surrounded by the circular scanner seemed like a Divine hug, the humming sound of the machine, a heavenly lullaby. I felt so relaxed I feared falling asleep and twitching or jerking and messing up the scan, so I stayed awake and still by doing Centering Prayer. I love this prayer, this blessed way of being in God’s presence! When I got home, I slipped my copy of the scan disc into my computer and marveled at all the lovely colors in my body. Hopefully, none of the colors represent cancer, but if they do, then I will share with God my full range of emotions and thoughts. And with God’s help, I will discover again the meaning of Julian of Norwich’s words: “all will be well, and all shall be well, all manner of things will be well.”

As my drug basket gets empty, life decisions pile up. I popped the last Protonix (for reflux), took the last Allopurinol (kidney support), and shelved the laxatives and sleeping pills. I wish I could discern what life direction to take just as easily and with as much excitement as I discard old pill bottles. I have enough sensations in my feet to make driving less risky. Driving makes me feel incredibly independent and free! Though my sprained ankle still keeps me off my feet at times, I am beginning to see my life stretching out before me again. For five months I concentrated on survival; now I concentrate on how to live.

My concepts of myself, of God, of life have changed during my year of ill health, especially during the last four months. I want to integrate what I’ve learned, but I haven’t lived much on this side of chemo to know how the changes will look or feel. Now that I’ve recovered, I realize my old patterns didn’t go away, including all the old pressures and demands I put on myself, the over ‘doing’ out of idealism, obligation or religious and cultural conditioning. I see them more clearly though, as I stand in the doorway to a more whole life, a life of greater freedom. Freedom comes with more risk, and the willingness to embrace a greater ‘unknowing’. I stand here with uncertainty coupled with a strong desire to trust.

New opportunities arrive on this doorstep where I am; there are so many opportunities and possibilities that my mind wants to stir up confusion and indecisiveness. With guidance from my spiritual director, with meditation, prayer and stillness, and gratitude for the timely, passionate song of the red bird, my awareness shifts from the logical and rational, to an inner calm, a place of trust, a knowing that life will unfold as I begin walking. I know I’ll always have everything I need. There is a deep well within me, within all who believe, and it flows with the living water of joy, love, confidence, vitality, creativity and peace. When I am thirsty, all I have to do is shift my awareness and drink deeply. As I walk, God walks with me on the journey.

Joyfully,
Sharon

Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Endings and Beginnings

I graduated from Kairos School of Spiritual Formation last weekend!! Since the weekend came during my time of lowered white cell counts, and with flu going around, I decided to forgo all the congratulatory hugging and kissing after class. Instead, I presented my friends with pens and they decorated my head. Enjoy the photos!



Instant bangs!
















Yes, I’m in the midst of endings: end to five years as a student at Kairos, end of chemotherapy for lymphoma. I feel lost, though the feeling is more celebratory than confused or sad, as I wander around in the strange space between closure and new adventures.






While my body requires rest and continued healing, my mind is active with ideas, questions and decisions for the future. Two big goals reached feels exciting, wonderful and a tad unsettling.



me with certificate!




I’m doing well this week and my sprained ankle is improving. Last week I experienced very odd sensations in my feet, slightly painful, and somewhat like when your foot ‘falls asleep’ from poor circulation and the blood rushes back into the area. I cut back on the vitamin B 6 supplements, which I read could help in healing the nervous system, and this week the odd sensations have stopped. The numbness in my fingers is lessening, and while the soles of my feet are still numb, there is less burning and tingling in my feet. All authorities say it takes six months to a year for this to happen, yet, I am experiencing it now. The affirmations continue to assist my body in regaining balanced health. Thanks be to God the healing abilities of the mind and body!




This is my 'good week'. How wonderful to know my good week will simply move into another good week and another, God willing, until they all blend into the rest of my life. What will I focus on now, how fast will I bounce back from chemo, what life lessons will I take with me? Will I continue my education, focus on writing, building my spiritual direction practise, or find a healthy balance of all? As Macrina Wiederkehr so eloquently says: "I stand before what is, and dwell in possibilities!"










Joyfully,
Sharon

...and it ends with a braid.