That was relatively uneventful. Instead of putting you to sleep, I'll start with the dramatic part. At 19 years old, I received a cancer diagnosis in my sophomore semester of undergraduate college while living away from home, two states away. This might surprise you, but it sucked. I found myself angry at God, my body, and my lack of "don't stop 'til you drop" pace keeping. For the first time in my life I was grieving the loss of the life and the body that I was supposed to have. They had been taken away without my consent. BUT, guess what? Something incredible happened in the quiet moments between my anger and tears. Just like many people say (see, I'm not that original...) I found out who really cared and what real compassion looked like when life got rough. It was like the universe was grabbing me by my shoulders and saying "SLOW DOWN! Don't you see that the grades, your (multiple) jobs, first dates, and what clothes you're wearing tonight don't make you who you are?" I was forced to slow down. Once I stopped being busybusybusy, I started seeing the value of time. Of course, the important people in my life brought me my favorite snacks and called to check in. Those things meant so much. However, what made an even bigger impression on me was the outpouring of compassion and kindness from the people I didn't have any expectations of at the time. Not just family members and old friends, but the nurses, doctors, employers, college professors, and even school administrators I had never talked to more than once, if at all. They saw me as I was, and they showed me that they cared. They had prayer circles and sent flowers. They sent cards and came by to check in. These were the people I wanted to emulate. I wanted to see others the way they saw me. I never asked them how they saw me, but I imagine they saw a strong, young, flawed, human with no judgment or expectation beyond just living one day at a time the best she could. That meant taking care of my body, getting rest, keeping my doctor's appointments; and yes, finishing my semester with all passing grades (bonus goal!). What I learned was how to slow down long enough to balance priorities. It's an active process. Some of what was important 5 years ago doesn't really matter now. Some of it matters even more. I'm a mother of two beautiful children. One of which has an autism diagnosis (never saw that one coming!). I'm an artist, a gardener, a yogi, a wife, a Christian, a social worker, a therapist, a business owner, a cancer survivor, a cook, house remodeler (is remodeler a word?), an animal lover, a volunteer, etc. I love it all but finding balance in all that I am takes work. Not just because I'm constantly overly ambitious in seeing how much I can squeeze into one day, but because I'm subject to the human condition. Just like the rest of us. Just like you. I'm here to support my community in whatever way the universe shows me I can help. For right now, the message seems to be "Start a private practice and work with the community." In the meantime, know what I wish you light in your life and hope you embrace the future for all of its turbulent, beautiful changes. Please visit back frequently as I'll be adding content regularly.
