Islands in the Sky

Yesterday, after watching the continuous sunrise as we flew toward LA I dozed off, but somewhere over New Mexico I woke to see the top of a mountain peeking out of the clouds like an ”island in the sky”.  My first kidney stone was over 30 years ago, and a little over a year ago I passed my 10th stone.  Many of these stones have cost multiple hospitalizations, and 2 large stones were broken up with lithotripsy (sound wave technology).  But my last 4 stones I’ve passed using meditation to relax the smooth muscles of my kidneys and bladder, and guided imagery that feels like rectilinear movement to expel the stones.  Islands in the sky have always been my mediation metaphor for the place I need to be to pass a stone.  Passing over that place yesterday was surreal, but also it gave a new glow to my hope.  Believe in the impossible.   

Mesmerized by a Sunrise Blush

 A soft sunrise blush sweeps across the thick cloud covered sky bringing back memories of mornings hitch hiking down the California coast in the 60’s mesmerized by the never ending flow of perfect waves.  It was the end of my summer following the crops in Washington State, working farms and living in bunkhouses.  I was about to turn 20, so it was a summer of searching for me.  Flying to LA today I feel the same wonder and excitement as we fly west into the ever present blush of sunrise.  Someday I’ll ride the never ending trail of sunrises as I hitch hike through the Milky-way following the star crops and living on distant planets mesmerized by my never ending journey.  Feel my smile!

Amethyst & Life

Barb took my hand and walked me up to my dad’s open casket that sat in the chancel of the church.  I remember her warmth, and hand squeezes as I cried.  She took a small amethyst and placed it in my dad’s hands.  At home, under a backyard tree, I ask her, “Why the amethyst Barb?” She told me amethyst protects travelers, and is a calming stone providing balance, peace, and connections between the earth and other worlds.  Her words forever changed how I remember my dad’s death.  I’d been caught up in my own sorrow, and she was focused on my dad’s journey.  Flowers the colors of amethyst, now bring a smile as I think about the journey we call life.  

Hope

Yesterday, I visited several patients and heard behind their words how much they missed life before cancer.  We all have moments in our lives when we miss someone or something.  My daughter who lives in Tennessee is like a stranger in my life.  Most days, weeks, I do okay, but there are moments when I miss her terribly.  One morning last week, I had one of those moments standing by the water’s edge with tears streaming down my face and feeling as upside down as the tree reflections.  During these moments time becomes distorted by ripples of past moments shared with her, reflections; I try so hard to catch, but in an instant “hope changes everything” as I feel her presence.  Let hope rule!

Momentary Heart Connections

He pointed to the sink, “clean up, you did a good job of stitching up his knee, how long have you been a medic?”  “Oh, I’m not a medic Sir, I rode in with the chopper, I’m his platoon leader”.  He smiled as he turned and walked away, and as I felt the water on my hands, I woke from this lost memory and realized there have been times I’ve stitched my life back together through the momentary connection with a stranger.  Maybe a short deep conversations or a warm hug, both have almost immediately begin opening my heart. For it is only through an open heart we reclaim the resilience that stitches life back together.  Today, make momentary heart connections.   

Life is Good

Last week at our lake house, I watched silent mornings slowly unfold the glow of each day, and knew life is good.  Issues with our phone line brought Dennis, a field technician, and 7-year MD Anderson cancer survivor.  He told of meeting a bald, courageous, 7-year-old little girl in radiation to whom he immediately gave his ponytail, to be weaved into a wig.  Recently she sent him a letter inviting him to her 15th birthday celebration.  His annual checkups would be more convenient at an MD Anderson clinic closer to his house, but the caring community at our main campus energizes him.  His retirement plans are to volunteer to drive people from Montgomery, Texas to the main MD Anderson campus.  Make life good!

Waiting

The team was hurting; Butch Duhe had died of a brain hemorrhage so we dedicated the coming A&M game to Butch.  The last 13 seconds an A&M pass steals our win.  We were stunned, but Butch’s spirit stays around that year and we all end up with SEC Championship rings.  After my mother’s death for weeks I expected her to call, she never did, but she also never stopped loving me.   The pain I experienced with my broken back kept getting worse, until one day it was gone and I was walking.  Early in my journey as an advanced metastatic cancer survivor I waited for the magical potion, now I find real joy in experiencing each day as they unfold.  What are you waiting for?

Honoring Loss

I sit in my office sanctuary and think about the pain that our HR Division is feeling with the passing of Paula Strickland, Director of Executive Recruitment.  Loss is tough because of the difficult emotions we experience in the grieving process.  Emotions most of us aren’t good at, and yet emotions we need to honor as pathways to healing.  Yesterday around the office, individuals were at different stages of grief, “I didn’t get to say goodbye”, “It was never about her, she listened so deeply, and she really cared”.   Deep inside, loss raises questions about how we live each day, who we are, who we are becoming, and how can we refocus our energy and experience life in its fullest.  Honor loss.   

Art of Patience

Two weeks ago, I started a new drug treatment to stop the growth and spread of my cancer.  We’ve all experienced these anxious times in life, times when it’s easy to get trapped in feelings of fear, worry, doubt or even anger.  My thriving with advanced cancer for eight years, and surviving multiple treatments and their side effects, has been sustained by my practice of patience.  Looking back at my hospice work, I gained the gift of patience when given the honor to walk last days, hours, and minutes.  There is an art to the practice of patience learned with each life brush stroke, quieting our anxiousness with hope, and connecting us to the wholeness of life.  Practice the art of patience today.  

Life Touch

A golden sunset spreads across my horizon and I am lost in moments brushed with the gentleness of a dying day.  Like most days, Sunday was a tangle of energy and feelings as past, present, and future moments slowly blended as I reflected on life.  Wayne Muller, founder of Bread for the Journey, in one of his early books asks the question, “How shall I live, knowing I will die?”  The past few months I’ve been blessed with insights into my wholeness through the new challenges of my cancer journey.  It is through moments of reflective pausing I’ve begun to untangle who I am, and how our life touch becomes a gift others pass on.  Life touch someone today.  

The Rules

In his book, The Exquisite Risk: Daring to Live an Authentic Life, Mark Nepo talks about learning to live at a level where there are no rules.  Monday, I sat with a friend whose husband was having surgery, as I have with others, but this time it was different.  My cancer journey has brought me to a place where “being” has quieted the rules that questions each word I utter, or move I make to connect with others and myself.  It is through these connections that love and caring are illuminated and we find the peace that moments of wholeness bring to our lives.  Step outside your rules today, and you will find nothing in between you and the next moment. 

Life Rhythm Sailing

The neighborhood I grew up in had a large field where we held a kid organized summer Olympics consisting of running and field events.  My favorite events were pole vaulting and broad jumping.  In high school track, I added the triple jump, which I was not great at, but loved its rhythm and feel of just doing it.  It consisted of a hop, skip, and jump.  The skip was my favorite phase, where the momentum of the hop became a stretched out skip, and you sailed.  This morning I realized the importance of developing a life rhythm that provides a flow and grace through our life journey challenges that ensures we lean forward as we stretch out and sail.  Practice sailing today!

Be Still

Moments frozen in my dreams last night had me back on University Lake in the canoe that brought calm to my life in college.   My path was down Duplanier Bayou, portage across Stanford Ave, and finally slide as one into the water, and wait.  I was a silent visitor waiting to be brushed by the moons glow.  Many nights I’d follow her path to the lakes western edge, past old cypress trees, to where I could see the lights of my church, and be washed in childhood memories and family love.  My solo canoe outings taught me the necessity for still moments in lives that become driven by the fear of missing any or all of it.  Today, take time to be still.  

Trust Life

We share a side of our 4-unit townhome community with Franklin, a Berkeley mathematics postdoc working at Rice, who is job hunting.  This weekend he was preparing for an interview at the Naval Academy, and we briefly talked in our shared driveway.  He was on his way to buy an overcoat, have his shoes repaired, and he asks if I thought he should buy a briefcase.  I told him, “You look comfortable with your backpack and that is important for you need to just be you!”  As he backed his car out of the driveway, I thought how we back in and out of ourselves as we practice who we will become, and how important it is to trust in this journey we call life.     

Morning Gold Moment

Beginning a new cancer treatment usually has side effects, so I took off Friday to begin a new regiment of drugs as a participant in a clinical study.  I experienced no side effects and next week they will check to ensure the new therapy is not too toxic for my liver and heart.  The clinical study world is full of happy terms like “progression-free survival”, which translates into living more days. Last week as I waited for an elevator I took a picture of sunrise, and felt a deep smile as I realized, “The morning gold filtering through the window reminded me of early morning soft lips, shared with a kiss.”  Life is not about living more days, but sharing more moments.  Share more moments today!