On This Miraculous Planet, On Real Food, On Union with all that is
One of the fun things about being an adult - I am “allowed” to write on my bedroom walls. Wall decor is entirely my choice. And any costs associated with repair, repainting, etc are for me to bear.
Last fall I was repeating to myself over and over certain prayers from Rob Wergin. So much so, I decided to record then on my bedroom walls.
The aim was to have a constant drip of attention/awareness on those thoughts.
Read MoreDearest Beloveds,
If you choose to spend rainy afternoons as adults reading these letters (and maybe my book) from your Momma than you will have gathered by now that I am what is known as a cancer survivor.
I don’t like labels.
That label to me immediately evokes infusion machines, anti-nausea medication, and pit of my stomach fear. “Survivor” is not much better as a label.
Survivor of what? Of life? Of the human experience? You might as well say that every person on this planet is a survivor of one thing or another.
Read MoreDearest Beloveds,
In so many ways is life both AND. Your Momma is a rebel AND she is scared by not following the rules - especially medical rules and expectations. Both And.
The first time I did not do what was expected of me from the Western Medical Model was when I choose to go to Mexico for treatment.* 15 years ago I spent weeks feeling nauseous and untethered about making the decision.
Read MoreYesterday morning, I was admiring the rotund bellies of the robins. A passel of them were spread under the apple trees devouring warm wriggling goodness from the warming earth. Their russet beachball bellies protruded forth, so prominent and cheerful. It was delightful. Clearly, I am now a country mouse.*
A country mouse who didn’t grok until recently that she signed up for an iron man. I thought convalescing from a bone marrow transplant would be a marathon to be sure, I wasn’t aware I was enrolling up for one of those races that last for three days and involve surprise dodgeball games every 20 miles.
Read MoreAdieu my dearest bone marrow. Go with God. My beautiful marrow that made my blood all of these 45 years. Carrying oxygen, carrying back CO2, finding cuts and providing scabs, regulating my temperature, bringing blood sugar so I can see again when I am blind with hunger, all of it - I am so grateful for all you have done for me. Thank you - you can rest now.
Read MoreWell, really, how do I prepare for a Bone Marrow Transplant (BMT for those of us steeped in this world.)
First, I made a list.
Hold it, back up, first I had to make the decision.
Read MoreI know this sounds naive, but I have never stood next to a cow in the silence of a quiet field and listened to it tear up grass and chew. My first thought was, "that sounds like a wheatgrass machine," my second thought was, "maybe we should give nature first dibs on sounds - a wheatgrass machine sounds like a cow."
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My life vision is to love, be curious, identify my Cranky Monster, and be brave enough to speak from and for The Good.
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