Find Treasures

Fear seems to have become a theme for me in the past month.  It wasn't intended, it's simply what keeps flashing through my ever-thinking brain.  I was filling up my water bottle the other day at our slow flowing refrigerator spigot.  I tend to think and reflect as I stand waiting for the water to slowly fill.  I realized I am not afraid of my health right now.

I am not afraid of breaking every time I move.  I am not thinking about former surgeries for cancer or anything else.  Other than my bi-daily reminder to take my MS pill, I have thought little of that either. 

I'm blessed.  I am the healthiest I've been in a long time, but it hasn't come without a price.  I work hard every day.  I have been fighting to regain my strength and energy since my back surgery for  8 months. 

I know that many if not most of you are going through difficult parts of your journey.  Health issues rise up everywhere.  Relationships can take us on emotional roller coasters.  We can easily become overwhelmed by the daily rituals and expectations.  In the moments when we feel like we are in the path of racing tornado it is time to stop and decide what is most important.  What is worth our time and energy?  What part of our lives do we want to ensure makes it through to the other side of the rocky part of our path?

It comes down to choices. 

If health is important than your choices each day should reflect health.  You will make wise decisions about food.  You will take time to move to provide an opportunity for your body to get stronger.  You may sacrifice a little television time or free time to make these choices happen, but you won't sacrifice your health. It is important to you to have energy to enjoy and do whatever comes along your path.  This summer I've swam, paddle-boarded, ridden a bike, bowled, and done a number of other activities.  It is important to me to be able to do any activity when the opportunity arises.  I don't want to sit out and watch while everyone else has fun.

If relationships are the most important you will choose those people and choose time with them.  You will put aside the tasks that keep you busy and distracted and understand those tasks will always be there.  The people may not.  My girls are growing and making plans for their futures.  I know they will leave one day.  I've had friends move away.  Family members get older and die.  It took me a long time to learn that sometimes I need to put away the vacuum and spend time with people.  Sometimes it doesn't matter what my house look like, but it does matter that I visit with my friend.

I pray you find peace.  I pray you find the treasures in your life you want to protect and invest your time and energy into.  I pray you find the day when you are not afraid of tomorrow.

Cowboy Boots

When my youngest daughter was very little I marveled at her confidence and ability to walk her own path.  Not only did she not care if those around her approved or not, she seemed to not notice.  She wore clothes she loved and the fact they didn't match was never taken into consideration.  She presented one of my favorite outfits one afternoon at the bottom of the stairs.   She wore her orange and blue swimsuit, her brown cowboy boots and her cowboy hat.  Her skinny legs jumped with excitement as she held a large blue inner tube and shouted she was ready for the pool.  No one told her people don't wear cowboy boots with swimsuits and if they had she still would have worn the outfit.  We were going swimming and the only shoes she ever wanted to wear were her boots. She wore them to bed when they were new.  She never wore the clothes someone else suggested.  She never copied someone else's wishes or dreams or plans.  She had her own dreams and confidently sprinted  toward them.  I watched her in awe.  I loved how she didn't care what anyone else thought.  She would only be true to herself and no other opinion ever moved her off her path.

I'm 41 now and am beginning to consistently walk in the shoes I love instead of the shoes I think I should wear or the shoes I think others will approve of.  It has been a process for me.  Part of that process began with deciding who I was.  I had to decide which shoes were my favorite.  What outfit makes me happy and content and screams out my personality?  Then I had to decide I didn't care if I looked different than those around me.  I see a friend and I see how beautiful they are.  My mind immediately compares myself to them.  I have to train my mind to see they are beautiful in their shoes and I might be beautiful in mine.  It is okay if we wear different shoes, we can both be beautiful.

Confidently walk in your own shoes.  Confidently wear the clothes that make you feel great.  Confidently walk your own path.  As you see those around you in their favorite shoes walking their unique path, admire them, encourage them and remember you are a different person and it is okay if your journey and your wardrobe looks different.

I am in a particular stage in my life right now which may be different from most of those around me.  My path will continue to look different.   My young teenage daughters are growing fast and I am aware in a few short heartbeats I won't see them as often as I do now.  I want to treasure my moments with them.  I want to train them to be responsible and compassionate young women.  I don't want to waste time or energy on anything that can be thrown away.  I want to invest in my family and the precious relationships I have with people close to me.  I want to walk my path confidently while those around walk their path.

Life isn't predictable.  Life is rarely simple.  I don't want to make it more complicated by worrying about my shoes.

Are You Afraid?

I was reading Everybody Always  by Bob Goff today.  The second chapter deals with fear.  I had to think about what role fear plays in my life.

Bob reminded me the Bible says, "Do not be afraid," multiple times.  We aren't supposed to live in fear, but living in fear came be easy.

When a person has cancer, they live daily with the thought that it can return.  I knew this was true for me and recently discovered it is true for most cancer survivors.  Your invincibility has been taken.  If it can happen once, it can happen again. 

Last month after my yearly mammogram I received the dreaded call to return for an ultrasound.  They saw something and they need to have a different look.  I've never had a breast ultrasound before.  It was easy.  I was able to see the screen.  However, the entire time I was scared.  I saw a large black mass on the screen.  What were they seeing?  Was it malignant or benign?  The radiologist didn't speak so all I could do was lay on the bed in silence, counting the wallpaper squares on the wall.  Finally, the doctor came in to tell me they didn't know exactly what they were seeing on the screen so I would need a follow-up biopsy.  I wasn't surprised.  I wasn't really scared either.  I'd done this before.

I knew that if this mass turned out to be cancer, I knew exactly what to do.  I knew surgery would be next then some form of treatment would follow.  I knew I could deal with it because I had dealt with it before.  I was scared the first time this happened because every day was going to be filled with unknown, this time was different.   I didn't walk in fear.  In fact, I made it clear to those around me that at this moment there was nothing to fear.  I didn't want to get upset about an outcome we didn't know yet.

Even though I knew I could handle traveling this path again, my problem was... I didn't want to. 

I have spent the past few months focusing on getting strength back after back surgery.  I was ready to enjoy every aspect of my summer and take no moment for granted.  This new development was threatening to change my plans.

I waited almost a week for the biopsy.  I poured myself into my days and made choices I wanted to make.  I enjoyed the sun, I exercised.  I did everything this upcoming biopsy was threatening to take away.  I wasn't afraid.  I was ready.

I know I was afraid last time.  I know I sat in trepidation daily and daily I had to tell God I trusted Him and I would continue walking when I din't want to even crawl.  What was the difference?  The difference was the unknown.  Last time I didn't know what surgery would feel like or how it would change me.  Last time I didn't know how radiation would zap every ounce of energy from me.  Last time I didn't know what it looked like to have my Daddy (God) hold my hand, give me strength and walk me through every painful and difficult step. 

This time, as I stood at the crossroads: a familiar journey down the path of cancer on one side and a  cancer free, full of health and growth journey on the other side, I knew my Daddy would be with me on either path.  I knew I would ultimately be "okay" whichever path I walked down.  I resigned myself to choose to live fully each day no matter which path I would soon walk.

The day of my biopsy came.  I did yoga, exercised and spent time at the pool.  I ate well then drove to town.  This biopsy was a much better experience than the last one.  I was able to lie on my back.  They used an ultrasound to guide the needle biopsy.  I was able to watch on the screen while the nurse asked me questions to distract me. 

"We'll let you know in 3-4 days."  I wasn't allowed to exercise or play in the water so I took a day to rest and spent the next day packing for vacation.  I kept moving and trusting and knowing that it would soon be decided which path I would take.

Friday morning I got a call from the doctor.  "The results are in.  Your biopsy came back okay."  It wasn't cancer!

I had to deal with myself after this.  There is no reason for me to fear the return of cancer.  I've survived once, I'll survive again.  I have no reason to fear where my health might take me.  I am not alone on my journey and have no reason to be afraid.  I must walk and trust.

Running

It rained today.

When I am at the ocean I want to enjoy all of it each moment I can.  I don't want to miss a chance to be near it or to watch its constantly changing waves.  I don't live near the ocean so it's like watching a bright orange sunset.  You don't want to look away because you know it won't last.

When it rains, I get excited.  I have a reason to get cozy, stay inside, play some games and watch the rain and the crashing waves from a distance.

I love and enjoy the beautiful days at the ocean, but the bad weather days can be just as enjoyable.

Over the past 20 years there have been many "forever changed" days: days that marked the beginning of something in my life becoming permanently different.  Some days were the beginning of missing a loved one, the realization I would never talk to them or see them again.  Some days were the beginning of a change in health.  The journey ahead would be about regaining my health even though there would always be a scar. 

Some days were also new beginnings.  Each day one of my daughters was born marked a moment my life would never be the same, but it was a blessing.  We've moved to 4 new homes in the past two decades.  Each move marked a new chapter, a home ready to build new memories.

Most of the time we plan the good changes.  We expect a baby, we schedule a move and pack our walls of boxes.  The unexpected changes tend to be more difficult.  The unexpected changes wake us in the middle of the night, surprise us in the morning, tear our hearts out as we mourn the loss.

Just like the eagerness to absorb as much of the ocean as I can in a week, I try to enjoy each moment of each day.  No one knows when that phone call will come.  No one knows which cup of coffee with your friend will be the last one.  I'm not saying dread the future, I'm saying don't forget to enjoy the present.  Don't forget to feel the breeze on your face, take in the sunshine like a growing flower, welcome the rain and the rest and refreshment. 

Those days when your child won't sleep through the night won't last long.  They will also stop wanting to snuggle with you before you are ready.  The money might be tight, but it won't always be that way.  One day you will remember the joys that were mixed into those lean days.

I found myself running down the road a few years ago celebrating my strength and ability to run.  I couldn't always run, but on this day I could.  I didn't complain about the strain in my legs.  Instead, I shouted with joy that my body was able to run.  I was acutely aware something could come and quickly take my running strength away.  This awareness, this ability to not take anything for granted reminds me to focus on today's journey.

Time doesn't slow down.  Children don't stop growing.  We don't stop getting older.  None of us ever stop changing.  We have no idea what tomorrow will bring.  It may bring blessings, it may bring difficulties.  It will come and our only job is to be present each moment and walk with joy the path before us knowing it will make us stronger. 

Paddle, Paddle, Paddle

My vacation is over, but the surf is still on my mind.  On my final day on the Oregon Coast I surfed 6 amazing rides.  Yes, I counted them.  They weren't amazing waves, they were probably normal waves, but the ride was wonderful.  I went down the face of the wave on a few and I rode a few into shore.  I turned and moved like a skater on a skateboard.  I ended my surf session after the 6th wave.  It had been great and I was determined to leave with a positive memory.

I thought a lot about the waves and my relationship with them this week.  Oregon waves are very powerful.  I surfed in Ireland a few years ago and discovered the waves on that day didn't push as hard.  A small wave in Oregon will knock you out.  Over the years I had acquired a bad habit of gripping the rails (the sides) of the surfboard the moment the wave hit me.  During my early learning days, instructors would yell, "Paddle, paddle, paddle!" when a wave was on its way.  You are supposed to paddle to the wave.  The instructor in Ireland was working to get me to stop gripping the rails and instead, to continue paddling through the wave.  Eventually, I trusted my ability to stay on the board and kept paddling when the wave hit me.  The extra paddling gave me enough power to be able to stand up on the board.

The Oregon waves I am familiar with are powerful enough to propel you and your board forward even if you do nothing.  In my early days of surfing, the wave would knock me off my board.  One time a small wave knocked my surfboard into my face and gave me a fat lip for a week.  Smaller waves need you to paddle to get up enough speed to join them.  If you don't paddle enough, you won't get the wave.  It will pass you by.

Whenever I grabbed the rails of the board, preparing to hold on as if a thief were trying to steal my it, I realized I was holding on in fear.  I wasn't holding on waiting for a great ride.  I was holding on because I was afraid of being thrown to the bottom of the ocean.  After my Ireland trip, I realized the best waves are the ones I paddle into.

My first surfing day on this trip, I was scared.  I spent much of my time sitting outside doing yoga breathing to calm myself down.  It had been awhile since I'd surfed Oregon and the only memories passing before me like an old slide show were the ones where they ocean beats me up.  By the third day, I was more confident in my ability and less scared of the waves.  I eagerly paddled out, willing to force my way through each crashing wave to get to the perfect spot and wait for the perfect wave.  Once out there, I sat patiently on my board as the water moved up and down.  Once I spotted and claimed my wave, I turned and started paddling, listening and looking behind me expectantly for the wave to crash and push me toward shore.  As soon as I felt the wave behind me, I paddled a few more times and got to my feet.  I bent my knees and looked around.  The ocean propelled me.  I turned back and forth searching for the most powerful water so I could keep riding.  I got to shore and celebrated.  I looked around to see if anybody saw how great that was then I realized it didn't matter if anyone saw.  I had an amazing ride.

The fear was gone.  I was excited.  I was ready to ride.

Sometimes I live my life like I'm gripping the rails.  I'm holding on with each passing moment expecting the wave to be too big and to knock me off.  I remember the past and how it has beat me up too often and forget that right now the waves are good and it's time to ride.  People who have had cancer live daily with the thought, or rather fear, that it will return.  MS is secret and surprising.  It could be silently stripping away more myelin without me knowing.  One day, I could have another episode.  The problem with this thinking is that it is full of "coulds" and it is rooted in fear.  It is me hanging on to the rails.

I've decided I'm going to work harder to paddle.  When life's waves begin crashing behind me, I want to paddle hard and ride them.  I want to enjoy the ride even if I fall in the end.  I want to celebrate and shout and maybe someone will see and celebrate with me.  Or, I'll just enjoy the ride.