HOPE - OF COURSE!

When I was a kid 

my mom loved to read aloud 

the Greek myths.

Her favorite was the one about how Zeus punished humans

 for having accepted the gift of fire from Prometheus 

by giving Pandora (a most beautiful woman) 

a box he told her not to open (but knew she would). 

All the miseries of the world

were unleashed from that box as Pandora opened it...

BUT, 

at the bottom of the box, was 

hope! 

My mom used to say, "there is always hope".

There is a great short telling of the myth here:

http://www.greekboston.com/culture/mythology/pandoras-box

 Of course, 

when looking for another poem to memorize 

during radiation, 

I was drawn to Emily Dickinson's beautifully crafted words.

Hope Is the Thing With Feathers
Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul

And sings the tune without the words 

and never stops at all

And sweetest in the gale is heard

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm

I've heard it in the chillest land

And on the strangest sea

Yet, never, in extremity

It asked a crumb of me.

Of course,
when looking for another quilt to make
(living joyfully)
I was drawn to a big jar of 
HOPE!

ONE POEM AT A TIME

THANK YOU for all the kind words!
I am deeply touched
and have tucked them all away for strength!

My last  post implied that I do not worry any more.

Ha!

I do worry.
A lot.
However, when I remember
to wake up and realize I am worrying

and I imagine Worry 

as a blobby robed creature 

and I welcome him, 

even link arms with him, 

reassure him that I understand why he is here yet again  

(of course I am worried! Welcome to being human!)

then my time spent worrying is a lot kinder and gentle.

Sometimes I even invite Worry to sit on a bench with me for a while. 

When I remember to do this,

Worry doesn't stick around nearly as long as he used to. 

Worry doesn't spiral into scared, fearful, or panic. 

And that is lovely!

I decided to memorize poetry to help me through radiation.

The first poem I memorized was The Guest House by Rumi.

It saved me.

Here it is:

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

— Jellaludin Rumi,
translation by Coleman Barks

This is the quilt I made 

for Rumi's poem.

Here's me 

greeting the day's long line of feelings at the door

laughing

and inviting them in (even worry!).

Being grateful. 

Then letting the feelings go.

Here's Francois,

our new seven year old rescue,

who I have honored with the task

of being my healing buddy.

He is quite wise, understands, and loves unconditionally.

And as long as there are enough quilts to keep warm

he doesn't hang onto worry and

life is good  fabulous!

INTENTION

I used to be a worrier. 

My dysfunctional childhood provided many opportunities

 to hone my belief that I was somehow in control of life.

I used to think - 

I'll just keep that thought on my "WORRY LIST"

and if I think hard enough 

and figure out what bad might be coming, 

I'll be able to 

do something to prevent its occurrence. 

This was truth for me. 

Then, in January of 2016,

something not even top one million 

on my list of things to worry about 

happened.

I was diagnosed with colon cancer. 

The world paused

the walls swayed in and out

my breath got stuck in my throat.

As the doctor's words swirled

and my brain tried to wrap around what she had just said

one thing became crystal clear - 

I was not in control of life

never had been

it was time to stop focusing on worry!

Ironically, in the midst of all the 

worrisome implications of this diagnosis

 I felt 

lighter

freer

relieved

even giddy.

Whew!

Gradually over the next few weeks,

I redefined my intention for living.

No longer 

 would I exhaust my self 

believing that it was up to me to prevent

bad things from 

from happening.

To avoid feeling

anger

sadness

lonely

scared

To stop being so paralyzed 

with worry about "bad" that 

I was forgetting about "good".

My new intention was to let life happen.

To experience all that that means.

Honoring one feeling at a time

and trusting. 

The world is a place 

filled with good things happening 

- truth - 

and I was going to seek them out - 

even through cancer.

And, by golly, I was going to use quilting to do it!!!!

These are my littlebits ( usually 10x12 ish) of therapy

that I created every few weeks this past year to

help me stay focused on my intention.

This is me and my husband 

riding the waves of whatever happens 

in a boat called Hope.

One kind doctor's assistant said to me, 

"You know, chemo isn't like how they show it in the movies.

Some people sail right through." I went home and made this

littlebit of me sailing through it 

on a strong and balanced catamaran with a great sail. 

These are the chemo fairies 

that filled my insides for six months 

with their happy hardworking scrubbing.

This is the supportive path that I walk,

one step at a time,

with strong support 

from my tough Ukrainian ancestry 

(represented by nesting dolls and a 

strong ancient tree with deep roots).

This is me 

owning the courage and strength that is in me

as I dance happily in a field of flowers.

After six months of chemo 

came 28 days of radiation.

I chose to imagine

that the big loud scary machine 

was radiating love through me.

I made it!

Someone asked, "are you celebrating?"

Celebrating that I am on the curative path

having made it through cancer treatment 

with my cavemen family and princess girlfriend support?

Why YES!

YES, I AM CELEBRATING!