Tag: Delivering news of cancer

39. Still Me

The most difficult part of cancer is telling people! At first, I feel like I am putting a burden on their hearts, that I am causing pain. Certainly “I” am not doing it.

When I enter and exit the house repeatedly, like when gardening or bringing in groceries, Leo (the dog) barks EVERY time.  Every is an exaggeration, 90% of the time.

And every time I say “Still me, always me”.

Today Shannon called.  It is obviously difficult for everyone to make the first contact after getting “the cancer diagnosis information”.  I can hear it in voices and see it in typed words.  But I am still me, always me.  As we talked, I felt her relaxation and realization.  It’s happened with each of you.  Shock.  Then silence.  Then a path to acceptance that may be a long project of self inquiry.

The most difficult part of cancer is telling people!  At first, I feel like I am putting a burden on their hearts, that I am causing pain.  Certainly “I” am not doing it.  It’s hard though.  With a magic wand, I would convey the information all at once so that there was a quick, complete picture.  People would see the whole thing all at once. 

man in white button up shirt

With a magic wand, I would convey the information all at once so that there was a complete picture.

They would get that:

*I am okay and accepting my journey.  I am actually living a graced and wonderful life, right now, always.

*The interplay with their own path is obvious, and that each has her/his own stuff to do around this.  You get to embrace growth here too.  It’s not just me. 

*If we never speak again, that it is totally cool… but I don’t want to exit without reminding you that I love you and have immense gratitude for the moments we have shared

*The biggest gift anyone can give me (because everyone asks) is positive thought or prayer, and focus on one’s own connection to Eternality.  You heal me by healing you.  Love it.

Magic words.  Swish of the wand.  All of it sinks in in one clear, easy moment.

33. Naked

I see myself as the elephant. People hold various parts and describe truths of how I appear in the world. But each evolving picture can only reference its own experience and interpretation. I stand naked.

Kwami is circling the wagons, all of the people of contact, all of the mutuality of paths and cross connection, all of the realization that we live elements of one life… I stand naked.

DeeDee asked if the unfolding felt comfortable, if I am okay with opening the journey to others in a group.  I wondered why it could be an issue.  I tend to believe that I am straightforward and honest, that what you see is who I truly am (in this character).  Right now, the reality is unveiling itself.  I stand naked.

The story of the blind men and the elephant comes to mind.  Google it if you don’t know it by heart.  I synopsize it like this:  There is an elephant.  A bunch of blind guys are touching the elephant.  One holds the tail, another strokes the ear, yet another hugs an enormous leg, and so on.  The men are then asked to describe the pachyderm.  Ya, not similar descriptions, not similar at all.

The blind men and the elephant (wall relief in Northeast Thailand)
The blind men and the elephant
(wall relief in Northeast Thailand)

So now I see myself as the elephant.  People hold various parts and describe truths of how I appear in the world.  But each evolving picture can only reference its own experience and interpretation.  I stand naked.  Luckily what you are holding is a toe, ’cause the options get dicey!

With the creation of a group, there is creation of cross referencing and hearing about other parts of who I have been or am.  There are spaces and places that some have never considered, that just haven’t come up, that you just don’t know about me because, well, why would you?  I’m on that pyramid, staff in hand, I stand naked.  

So there is an odd discomfort.  You have been holding my toe, and now you will have to consider that I have a nose (and there are boogers in there).  And I have a plastic port for chemo under the skin on my chest, and it has left scars.  And my feet stand apart from one another and hold me firmly to the ground, but as you hold my toe, did you know I had feet?  And my spirituality runs an undercurrent that overwhelms the moon and stars, and makes my brain spin, and my body shiver with Kundalini energy.  And I use the bathroom.  And in honesty, I dislike the flavor of peppers.  There is a lot of elephant.  And I stand naked.