Today is the first day I feel like I woke up in my body. From the moment this diagnosis came, I have felt terrified of my body, because I knew a process was going on that was beyond my intent or understanding. Slowly, this place is working its magic on me (skeptic that I am sometimes). IT's been gentle, loving persistence. Today, I felt that waking was a small bit different.
I've wondered a bit about hope. I've been afraid to hope because it's too painful. There is a vulnerability to hoping for a positive outcome. Something here in me says I have to stay grounded in all of the possibilities, even the dreaded ones, in order to move from an honest and awake place. So hope cant be a denial of death. It's very much an ongoing inquiry for me right now. I have a history of hopelessness, in myself and in my family tree, with my grandmother's suicide having its own piece of my history, and my tendency to go down and in, to collapse when I feel overwhelmed.... some lovely folks here are helping me see the patterns.
For now, I am finding trust to be a word that resonates. While hope has a sense of performance in it, and a sense that it could be lost (losing hope), trust implies a bigger process of life that holds my experience. For now, there is a "hell yes" inside of me to that. Some of you know what I mean by the "hell yes". For those of you who don't, some friends of mine and I have shared a mantra, "If it isnt a hell yes, it's a hell no". If you still dont understand, that's ok.
Love each of you
Would appreciate your presence as I go into an IV treatment today and later a hyperbaric (SP?) oxygen chamber. Big day!