Chemo has struck. Today, it has gone for my tongue. It is swollen and thick, but I think I can still type.
Lucky You! : - )
A man has been highly recommended to me to help with this process. A friend went to him, and now has a list of herbs and supplements to purchase, and exercises to do, and so, now, she finds herself feeling fear around whether all these things she is doing can really prevent the tumor from returning. How do we balance what we can reasonably do around our health with feelings of peace, ease, and well-being?
I found myself this morning thinking of how yesterday I was told the shot I received should really be given over five to ten days, but because people don't want to drive there every day, they do it in a concentrated dose. I agree that one visit for the shot is enough. Then, I thought of how if I lived in the caveman and cavewoman days, my herbalist-shaman-healer would be right there to give me just the "right" dose, and then, I thought what if my cave had lost its healer to a mammoth, or the herbs were all dried up. We live in a world where we strive for perfection. Perfection! What is that? I remember how shocked I was when I first heard Marion Rosen say, "Perfection is static!"
I think we drive ourselves nuts trying to achieve some place of perfection, some measure of control, and maybe we are looking for the stillpoint, but, even so, we need to keep moving. Our hearts are ticking off seconds of joy. They are throwing peanuts to us to shell and eat.
So, in considering all that, my poem of this morning changed. The barbed wire is gone. I just want to learn how to better use the night, my dormant time, to merge with you, like flowers and butterflies do, so, you can use my wings, and I can use yours. Ballast Ho!! Ease of time! Spring sows!
The rose in February
sits softly on the thorns.
Fairies knit caps,
and caterpillar shoes,
to warm the light,
until, like a wand,