My silence on here shows up in my reality in certain ways. It means I’m holding on very tightly to life. It means I’ve probably stopped writing. For me writing brings release and flow and transformation. When I’m holding on tightly to life I don’t want flow, I want life to be static. I want to NOT GO ANYWHERE. I want to stay where I am because where I’m going is unknown and it may not go well. At least where I am is somewhere I’ve come to accept: I’m okay here.
Holding on tightly makes my body ache. I stop stretching. My skin reacts to things and little patches of eczema pop up. I eat poorly (for me) and my body feels imbalanced. A detox specialist explained cancerous tumors to me as the body’s defense against too much acid. Now I have the distinction of alkaline vs acid to consider when my body feels out of balance. I wonder if that imbalance is feeding or creating cancerous tumors.
When I fight the flow I drink too much (for me). Inherited from my Irish heritage is a body that is extra sensitive to alcohol. I sometimes wonder if alcoholism is like an allergic reaction. The drinking is a coping mechanism. Again, probably inherited from my ancestors. Every year I choose stretches of sobriety to remind myself that I can have a say in how that gene gets expressed. Right now I’m settling into a 3 month stretch of sobriety to provide my body an optimum healing environment.
With a vice grip on life, distraction is my best friend. I resist connection to reality. I feel like my head is disconnected from my body: I’m a space shot, unfocused and yet constantly busy. I yearn for control and my perfectionist tendencies kick into high gear. My to-do lists have to-do lists.
Holding on tightly leaves me feeling uncomfortable. Something feels “off.” My relationships suffer. I experience contraction instead of expansion. I question myself on the inside while showing a brave face. I don’t want to be here and yet I don’t want to go anywhere. I’m full of contradictions. I feel trapped. Toxic. Heavy. Consumed.
This past weekend I went away for two days. Jerry joined me for one evening and one evening I took for myself. I needed to get out of my home (my workspace) if I had any hope of shaking this unworkable behavior before surgery. I needed to let go of the need to hold on. I had to create something new for myself. The surgery I experienced yesterday was a practice in release. Although my hand held no scalpel, I participated fully in my body’s release of the tumors and corresponding lymph nodes. In order to release, I needed to prepare. That preparation brought me to Mystic CT.
What I created on Monday 11/13 was this:
I feel grounded. Peaceful in the midst of chaos. Clear-headed. Aware. Intentional. Connected to the reality that I’m powerfully creating.
Yoga. Daily stretching. Walking. Movement. Checking in with my body. Meditation. Comfort. Peace.
Satisfied. Loving. Compassionate towards myself and others. Well-rested. Nourished. Adored. Accepting. Instinctual.
Challenged. Successful. Brilliant. Wondering. Conduit. Flow. Receptive. Blessed. Child-like. Mature. Wise. Playful.
Magnetic. Charming. Charismatic. Empathic. Trusting.
Gather. Grow. Courage. Release. Show up. Play big. Thought leader.
Flush. Cleanse. Alkaline. Balanced. Grounded. Real.
Light. Glowing. Grateful. Supported.
Sanctuary. Alone time. Self-discovery. Creation. Clearing. Release.
A note about numbers and dates:
I received my cancer diagnosis on 6/13/17. I immediately went into action to clear the cancerous cells from my body by any natural means possible, including reiki, acupuncture, cannabis treatment, alkaline/acidity balancing (I ate a lot of fruit), turmeric, oncology massage, supplements, journaling, mentally and verbally creating a new story for myself, and probably some other things I can’t remember right now. On 6/24/17 I created a “healing crisis” in my body–I ran a fever in just my chest area and when the fever broke I could tell that the energy of the primary tumor had lessened. On 7/12/17 I started chemotherapy treatment (a clinical trial that targets HER2+ cancer cells). Right around 7/17/17 I felt the swelling from my multiple biopsies (performed on 6/29/17) go down, and I noticed I couldn’t feel the tumors anymore. On 9/17/17 I celebrated my 41st birthday. On 11/13/17 I wrote the words above; for me that’s when I reconnected to reality and set my intentions for this next phase of healing. On 11/17/17 I released my tumors to the surgeon and the pathologists, and along with them all the stress and worry and unhealthy thought patterns or behaviors that have permeated my life for the last few years. Peace out, cancer…and all that you represent.