Living Life

***CLICK on the photos and it will come up larger, if you wish.***

Faith

I'm down in one of my favorite little towns in California, St. Helena. Today I met up with an old friend, an old friend that we have a deep spiritual understanding together. I would say, my closest friends and I share a deep connection in this way. He was telling me about a shoulder injury he has and that he is heading to Brazil to see a spiritual surgeon, or he'll have surgery in the states.

I looked him in the eye and said, "You are going to need to have real surgery."

He and I looking deeply into each others eyes, and he responded by saying, "I don't know why you are saying that. I am not even going to hear that. I am not going to take that reality on. I am not sure if you are saying that, Heather because Western medicine worked for you, and you chose to go that route."

I started telling him more of my story, and I'll skip most of what I said otherwise this post could be a book in and of itself.

But the jest of it, with lots of tears, was this:

" I lost my faith." To get to where I am now, to go through what I went through, I had to let go of it all. How was it, that I..ME..and again, I got cancer in the first place? I remember blogging about this, but one conversation that occurred frequently was this...some loving caring person (because they always meant well)would say, "You will be fine, Heather. You will make it through this." And I would get really angry inside, and say as loving as I could back, "I will be until I am not." And then they would say, "I believe that you create and bring to you whatever you believe. So be careful what you say." And I would say, " I never thought I was going to get cancer, and I did."

You see, this conversation is on FAITH. Faith in lord knows what. Those of you that are Christian could be upset I just used your lords name in vain. Or whatever religion. Whatever religion you are, any walk of life, in any part of this miraculous planet, we all on this planet are just trying to make sense of what happens in life, and to us. Through faith.

We pray, we meditate, we fast, we walk, we run, we do all these things to help us get through. Because life is hard, and life is challenging, and life sometimes simply does not make sense.

It is easier to put your faith out there, and allow yourself to believe that "some great entity's" will, will be done. For your own good.

I am a deeply spiritual person. And this was one of the hardest things for me, and still is. I realized that Faith, is Control. Control in the idea that we do make our own reality. That we are our own magicians. That we can pray to a deity/God and through our faith, "Let go, and Let God." But this is a form of control, as I see it.

I feel like all the praying, all the seeking is our minds just trying to make sense of all of this life stuff, in reality we have nothing to figure out. Life just is.

For me, I chose to surrender into the unknown. Surrender and in the surrendering I learned to love myself deeper. It all boiled down to that. Surrendering and Loving. In the present moment, that is all I had. I believe it is all we ever really have. The hippie in me years ago, used to say its either Fear or Love. But it really is, just Love.

I have a bumper sticker on my car that sums it all up for me, Love Wins. It does, and through this Love, I will come back to having Faith. Because I do deeply believe I am my own magician. And that I do create my reality. But I do also now believe, that sometimes, stuff just happens. And it doesn't make any sense, and no one can tell you why, or how, or even IF at the end of a long struggle, it'll all be worth it.

There is a sadness in this harshness. I cried a lot today, and have over this many times. Faith is what I have stood behind for years. A mask of faith, full archetypal images, and mysticism...but a mask all the same.

The anger of Blood

Okay, yesterday as I was massaging I revisited the hard part of my weekend. The hard part being the part that I had the base emotion of anger when hearing about woman laugh and joke about their menopause symptoms. Hell..I laugh about mine. What more can you do right? But in the care, in the safety of others that have been through it, I was able to be in the anger. I say as tears stream down my face. Its not quite time to do a ritual about my chemopause. Because I still am in belief that it is Chemopause, and not menopause. This morning I woke up to my ovaries feeling really warm.
But back to the safety. I could miss the opportunity to get real with myself. But luckily I am looking at it. I want to be a mom more than anything in the world, well...besides getting to be healthy for their lives (of coarse there is a their~I want twins....). This has been the hardest part of this whole, "Heather, you have cancer." Thing. And now its a, "Heather, you HAD cancer." And I just simply want my life to be back. I want my ovaries to work. I want to sweat again. Funny thing at the retreat, I found out that I am not alone with that one. There are others that have never starting sweating in their arms again. I have not under the right one.
So...The Anger..deserves to be capitalized. It deserves to have an alter made for itself. And it deserves to be acknowledge so that I can get to the real feelings of sadness, despair, hope, and trust. I just need to trust. If it doesn't come back, I have those little frozen eggs. And if those don't work...there are lots of fertility options and then adoption...but I really want to have my own, in some form.
I am so thankful for Casting For Recovery. I feel like I have been walking through a jungle to get to a lake, for nine months, or however long its been that my moon went away. Now, I am standing at the lake, just looking at it. And all the feelings that I have about my moon going on vacation, swims in the lake. CFR allowed me the space, the grace, and the ungrace, to finally see myself at the waters edge. Each day, I now need to look for a rock that speaks to this pain, and start piling my rocks into a pile, and talking to the rock that I place there. Sharing my pain, sharing my wishes. I need to let go of this grief. I am scared to. Maybe more scared than anything so far on this journey to health. I have to use all the lessons Cancer taught me to get through this. Time to surrender and to open my palm even more, and just love myself and be with myself. Be with my ovaries. Be with my blood, that circulates through my body. And a famous sentence my Dad always says, that has been so helpful during this past year pops into my head again, "Heather, there is no reason to stress over it, stressing over it won't change a thing."
I am heading out to Vashon in a few hours. I am going to start my rock pile out there next to my favorite pond. Fisher Pond.

Ode to the Popsicle

I just bought my last fruit sweetened popsicle box.  Strawberry, with yummy little chunks of berries in it.  Innately I know that I need to cut out all sweets.  I know that cancer feeds on sugar. End of story.  I have for the past month, forced myself to stop going to the bakery.  I went once and got a quiche.  That sucks compared to a twice baked almond croissant from my favorite bakery in West Seattle, Bakery Nouveau. This is a bakery-a-holics nightmare distance of just four blocks east from my home.  

I keep teasing and testing myself since I found out I have breast cancer.  This is how it goes in my head, "If I don't get cancer back, then I will never know if changing my diet mattered.  If I do get it back, then I will either have something to take out, if I don't take it out now.  How much do I want to risk, or how much do I want to eliminate all the things I can blame if it does come back."  But today, in Susan Loves Breast Book I read this golden tidbit, " It just illustrates that we have only odds, no certainty; to some extent, it's a crap shoot.  You have to just search your heart and make your own choice."  I can and do have the same philosophy with my journy with every freaking aspect.  This WHOLE DAMN THING IS A CRAPSHOOT!  Crapshoot, crapshoot, crapshoot.  No certainty.  No, noone knows if everything is going to be okay.  And that is the thrill of life.  Don't you see.  

We all seek and desire these limits.  Our limits.  I am just on a journey with limits I didn't want to explore.  But I get to explore them.  I get to see how my body will fight its good fight against breast cancer.  And it is my responsibility to do everything I can to put the right fuel in my machine.  Would I before a big run drink a milkshake and eat a popsicle.  No.  So, I get to juice lots of greens, and carrots, and ginger, and, and, and....  

Today, I felt awesome.  Until we got outside.  We walked up to the west seattle farmer's market.  I got up there and ran into my friend Marni.  In the middle of our conversation I started feeling dizzy and really weak and I had to leave.  We got home, and watched another documentary on the Golden Gate Bridge.  Then I thought I was okay to go the grocery store.  I get tired, really tired within about ten minutes of being away from the house.  I think its running into "normal" people and telling them about my experience and knowing that they just don't get it.  The feel for me, but no one knows unless you've gone through it.  If I wasn't such a people person I could see how someone could indulge in this separateness.  It could be lonely.  If any of you survivors are feeling lonely, I always find just talking to other survivors to be very empowering.  They remind me that its totally normal how I am feeling, and that always helps.  

My fear disappeared for a few days.  But I am scared again.  Although its not in my nodes, it still comes down to the, its a crapshoot thing.  It sure will be interesting to see my destiny.  This may sound grim, but its just life.  The bug that flew into your windshield didn't mean to, it just was on its merry little way, and bam.  Dead.  We all joke that we could die on the way to work in a car crash, or whatever, but its true.  I am a tenacious fighter, and I can totally hippie out and focus on those cells in meditation and I will start that this week.  This week, I have to start back on the hippie train.  Hard core.  But it is a crapshoot.

   

Don't make that face..

When I was a kid, one of my favorite books was about this kid that used to make the most horrid faces imaginable.  But one day, much like today (as its terribly windy here) the wind changed and his face wasn't able to change back to normal.  I kind of felt like that today.  

D said a very sweet thing to me this morning, after my sister left.  He said, " I want our old lives back."  Simple.  Cutting.  Sweet, and Painful. " Yeah, maybe in a year," I said.  I think both of us know that our lives will never be the same.  I felt the life in me fill my heart today so I got dressed and went to my office and finished some paperwork on a few of the houses I'd just sold.  Walking into my office I got a hug from everyone and tried to not to cry.  Looking and listening to everyone working hard on their houses, I felt a little jealous.  I just cannot believe that I am on hold.  I'm on hold because despite what most people think, Realtors work their butts off and it is an incredibly stressful job.  A job that I knew I wouldn't be able to give my 110% to. 

I got to do my first massage today since we got the news.  I like to think of my massage practice as my walking mediation practice.  It felt so good to focus on someone else's body for a while.  A body that is in good health, a body that is working the way it should.  How is it that none of my Doctors found this lump in the past few years, or in my last exam four months ago?How is it that I was overlooked?  My Oncologist says its because most Doctors will never see cancer in younger woman in their entire careers, so they don't think out of the box when doing exams.  They just don't think its possible.

I got a manicure today.  The ladies all know my name, as I walk in they say, "Hello, Heather."  They asked me how I was, and I explained that I had breast cancer.  I told her I was 33, and she said, "Me too."  Quickly, they bantered back and forth and she explained to them all, in another language, one that I don't know, that I had breast cancer.  I told them next time I see them, I might not have hair.  How crazy is that.  "Your hair is so beautiful, are you sad?"  

I am sad, and sure my ego is sad and threatened that it will loose these locks.  Will I just go bald? Maybe I'll wear a scarf and a hat.  When my sister was here she told me that five years ago, she got fourteen inches cut off her hair for Locks of Love.  The biggest surprise was that she had never given it away, that she still had it.  Unbelievable!!  I love it, I actually might be able to have a wig with my sisters hair.  How cool, but do I want a wig?  Isn't the wig, for everyone else?

When my mom was in the nursing home, since she had a stroke at 54, and was paralyzed she didn't ever leave the home.  Eventually she just shaved her head, it was easier to take care of and she had no one to impress.  I wonder what I will do.  At the Oregon Country Fair, one of my favorite summer festivals I used to love to dress up and wear wigs.  I was able to morph into a freer me.  I just don't know about this.  We all know its ego.  I mean really, if I was on a deserted island would I care if I had to shave my head?  If someone left a wig on a rock, would I wear it around?  Yes, the girl in me that likes to dress up would.  And yes, the girl in me that likes to braid my hair might.  I just can't believe I have breast cancer.  It's crazy.

So yes, the wind is blowing and my life has changed and my life is never going to be the same.  That is what I didn't say to D this morning.  That for the better or the worse, my life and his life has changed.  When I get healthy again, and when I go into remission, our lives still have been changed.  The life of waking up in the morning and taking everything for granted is over.  Simply over.  

Today was the day that my Dad and I got to trace all the cancer in our family.  Back to my grandparents on both sides.  Tomorrow morning we are meeting with my Genetic Doctor and will start to learn if I have the genes that pre-dispose me to getting breast cancer.  On my Dad's side only my Nana had it and she had six brother's and sisters.  On my mother's side, my grandma had skin cancer on her face-no big deal- and my grandpa had hand cancer.  Neither died of cancer.  I am hoping I do not have one of the known six genes.  But I kind of wouldn't mind either because at least there could be some kind of blame.  I want to point one of my fingers at something.  D is always saying I have a little detective in me.  I'm that person driving down the road that looks for drunks, or calls 911 when I see a reckless driver.  He always laughs at me, but hey, if I can help the little detective in me loves to do it.  I'd make a great cop.  

Today I was out with all the "normal" people and starting to face the fact that my body is going to change and morph into a new butterfly.  I am a little nervous about it.  End of story.  I am just nervous.  Here comes lots of yoga and meditation and soul searching like my hippie days of the past have never seen.  I get to look square in my eye, an eye that may not have eye lashes for long.