I’ve been feeling anxious tonight. I think It’s because I’m trying to fit this cancer into my life rather than working my life around this cancer. This isn’t an inconveniently timed head cold that I just need to power through. This is a major life experience, one that I’ve so far felt best about when I’m “being” with it fully, present, alive, each moment in time. There are many lessons available to me and when I show up to retrieve them I feel a deep sense of peace and beauty about this whole experience and it’s place in my life.
Today I felt resistant. I felt tired of being conscious and present and go-with-the-flowy. I want to be where I want to be and I want to do what I want to do, cancer be damned.
I brought the kids to the Cub Scout camp bus for 7:30am, which is a full hour earlier than they catch the school bus. Dropoff is in the Shaw’s parking lot so I popped in after the bus came and grabbed a few essentials. Walking down the bakery aisle, I found myself drawn to the Hostess Snoballs, like so many times before. Despite being a 25 year vegetarian (they contain lard), I crave this crazy combination of cake, cream, and bionic coconut marshmallow “matter” a few times a year. My favorite is when they’re green for St. Patrick’s Day (I’m 50% Irish and March 17 is my half birthday, it all just makes so much sense to me). The luck o’ the Irish was with me this morning, as the ides of July Snoballs were ACTUALLY GREEN. Hell, if 2+ straight years of greens (juiced and sautéed and blended, oh my!) for brekkie didn’t prevent cancer, I don’t expect today of the green Snoballs will make too much difference either. 🍀
Our New England summer is in full swing, and in years past that means we operate in “OMG we need to do ALL the fun things in just 2 1/2 months” mode, where almost every weekend is booked before Memorial Day arrives. It’s exhausting. Today I’ve been thinking about the weeks ahead and contemplating plans that don’t support me while I heal from cancer. And my shoulders become tense and my breath becomes short and I just can’t see how to make this all work and still honor what my body so clearly needs right now.
So I don’t. I take it back to one day at a time, one moment at a time. “This moment is all that we have, for in this moment is all of life.”