Sharing Your Life Story

Several months ago, I was in OH at a small Catholic University where I spoke with students and faculty about whole-person living.  My favorite part of the trip was meeting with the clinical staff and residents in their long-term care facility.  As I walked around the facility listening to stories from residents and staff, I was inspired by the life lessons they shared.  The inter-reflecting life themes in their stories spoke about the power of mistakes and patience.  They talked about risk, courage, and trusting oneself as we improvise our way through life.  Have you started to share your life lessons with those that matter most?  If not, maybe exploring your life story this summer would be a good project.  

Soul Work

This has been a month of heavy reflection as the weight of the past two days of tests and procedures to assess the growth of my cancer approached.  Last night I woke just past midnight, and realized it had been a month wrapped in prayer, meditation, and healing imagery.  There have been other times in my life when my soul work, buoyed by the soul work of others accomplishes the extraordinary, and yesterday was such a day. 

The cancers in my lymph nodes and hipbones have little new growth.  A new speck on a rib and backbone are too small to measure, and besides my tumor markers are down, so my oncologists agreed I should stick with my current oral chemo.  My soul work feels like a flower bursting with color, surrounded by the life sustaining love of others.  Thank you, may my soul work touch your life today.

We Don't Do Life Alone

Link to my Story

Yesterday, as I sat in multiple waiting rooms, I was reminded how much they felt like athletic dressing rooms of my past with a mix of individuals tired of the fight and those that couldn’t wait for the start of the 2^nd half.  I ask her if the chair was taken, and she motioned for me to sit down, and we talked briefly; she was with her husband, who no longer worked, but she wished he did.  A tall large man limped into the seat across the far aisle and they began to try to talk, I got up and motioned him into my seat. 

We followed each other to two other waiting rooms, I watched them sit apart, and my heart felt his exhaustion and loneliness.  After my last appointment, I visited a friend doing inpatient chemo, and he, his wife and I talked about our shared cancer journeys – for we don’t do life alone.   

Live Out Our Courage

I was up early, for today starts two days and ten appointments consisting of scans, x-rays, blood draws, and a bone marrow aspiration.  I am in a clinical study that is looking at how the order of three different drugs slows down advanced prostate cancer.  Wednesday, I sit with my oncologist and discuss the new drugs I will start, for the first drug only worked a few months.  Last night MaryBeth, Auggie, and I shared dinner with another couple and laughed a lot as we shared puppy stories.  As we walked home, I thought about what Nepo calls “living from our core” and how much of life we spend searching for the inner courage to face the unknown.  I’ve always been a good tree climber and last night as I climbed a tree in my dreams, I felt the light that is at the center of my core and gives me the inner courage to thrive.  

Saying Goodbye Turns to Rose Tears

Last week I was in Minneapolis teaching at the 40^th anniversary of the National Wellness Institute and saying goodbye to the many friends I have made at the conference over the years.  Several months ago, I realized I needed to start letting go bits and pieces of my life to allow more time for inner exploration, and writing / sharing my living experience and what I’ve begun to call “cancer thrivership”.

 Long ago, I learned saying goodbye is never easy, but I wanted to do this on my own terms, so I’d usually start with, “I need to say goodbye”, and they’d say, “Oh you’re leaving early”, and I say, “no, I need to say goodbye, I won’t be back next year”.  We’d hug, cry a little, and I’d whisper in their ear, “have an awesome life”.  We left Minneapolis and went to Columbus OH for a mini-family reunion.  The rain in Columbus, left tears on the roses, just like the rose tears I felt on my heart.  Rose tears collected from shared inner moments of life overflowing, as I said goodbye to my National Wellness friends.  

Brokenness

One of my favorite places of stillness on our campus is the Mays Chapel garden, a small garden partly covered by a canvas canopy.  In its center is a tree with an old tangled wind chime hanging from a lower branch.  Ferns and other leafy plants and bushes encircle the tree, and hide several ceramic sculptures who call the garden home.  One of the sculptures is a small angel with a broken wing.  There are times in my life I am stuck in the pain of feeling broken, and can’t seem to let it go.  The silent stillness of the garden helps me lean into my brokenness, connecting me deep inside to the wholeness of life.  Lean into your brokenness and let go.

Cancer Changes Your Life View

Maybe it’s just me, but I know from sharing with others, having cancer changes the way you view life.  My dad’s timing in life sucked, but he was one of the most resilient individuals I have ever known.  After multiple failed restaurants, bankruptcy, and losing my mom to cancer, he somehow always managed to give joy to others.  One of my last visits with him before he died of cancer we sat on the back porch watching long tree shadows spread across the lawn as the sun went down.  I didn’t realize he was dying.  It’s in our fight for life that we find life waiting for us in moments shared with loved ones, friends, sunrises and sunsets.  Life is about being present for each and every life moment.