174 A Week of Clarity

Maybe it’s the chicken that Kwami makes and I pop into my chicken soup.  Maybe it’s all of the applesauce of the past few days.  This last week (much to the opposite of the beginning fog of the last chemo cycle) has been a space of rapid fire ideas, motion, and clarity.  It is echoed by many of the writings that pop into my inbox.  There is transformation in the air, in the ethers.

I have bigger images of what the world can do, yet, there are tweaks and goals for me on the smallest of scales.  Sort the drawers.  Take a class (or three, I think I have three).  Remember food, and journaling, and the blog, and the people around me, and…

It’s movement.  It is like the chemotherapy, the partner to my body, moving through it and making changes.  I can tune in and feel it.  It’s like swirling, tiny bubbles, moving around in specific spaces.  Nausea is how it might be defined by someone who is unable to separate from the experience, but it isn’t that.  It is very intentional, very interactive.

Maybe people can resonate with the nausea on the political front.  The tension, upset, and uncertainty.  Moving us… forward?  Hopefully forward.

I’m pulling the dead plants from the yard, trimming the ivy.  The hoses are put away, another load ventured to the dump.  We are in motion.  All of us are being swept along with the tide.

Author: Michele Plumb Stowell

Michele Stowell was a teacher, a hand holder, and encouraging voice. Born an early Gen Xer, she has lived in Western Washington for the duration. Her children, two spectacular genetic daughters and an uncountable number of marvelous scout and school sons and daughters, shine as her biggest impact and her greatest blessing. Just before her 54th birthday, Michele was diagnosed with stage four cancer. Her writing and art work are expressions of the drama and the joy of living earth bound. On October 24, 2021, Michele was released from her physical body, transported to continue her work on other realms. View all posts by Michele Plumb Stowell