Living boldly is scary.
Seeking purpose from the blackness of unknown is petrifying.
Showing up anyways is massively courageous.
All feedback is relevant is synonymous with you-asked-for-it vulnerability.
And being counter-cultural is costly.

Each one —
Optional.

Each one —
Intensely and magnificently worthwhile.

*Post 935

Backwards. Inside Out. Upside Down. :: 10/26/17 :: Post 59

I’m not so sure how I’m feeling tonight. I had a pretty normal day and felt good throughout the day, had enjoyable interactions, came home to a happy family and enjoyed time with them… and yet I sit here feeling a little down.

I’ve written before about interesting tensions…those spaces where I vacillate between two opposite places…and tonight I think I’m feeling some of that.

What they have told me is pretty accurate about acceptance and reality: I’m not sure if I truly forget or if I simply get so distracted that it isn’t all consuming in that moment. And then in the very next breath, I’ll be snapped right back into my current reality – I’ll sneeze and it will be painful…I’ll scratch an itch on my head…I’ll walk by a mirror… It’s a strange place to be that I feel so normal in one sense and so backwards, inside out and upside down in another.

Introducing myself to people is a complicated process. I want to qualify why I look the way I look and yet at the same time it’s none of their business. I want to honor my story and share what bridge I’m currently on yet I don’t want to make every interaction focus on the battle of which I’m fighting. I saw a client today, who I met for the first time on Tuesday (when I had long hair), who initially didn’t recognize me and then once she did, she complimented my new haircut as if I did it on purpose. It was a difficult moment in that I didn’t know what to say. Do I just say “thank you” and go along with it, letting her think that I just pulled a Britney Spears and shaved my head on a whim one day? Do I tell her I’m battling breast cancer so that’s why I have no hair? Hmmmm. This isn’t so simple… If I just go along with it, where does that leave me? Am I not honoring myself and my story? Am I protecting myself? Am I not caring what she thinks? Oppositely, if I qualify why I look the way I look, what does that mean? Am I attention-seeking? Am I being brave? Am I caring too much what she thinks? Should I just always trust that if the opportunity presents itself, it will and I don’t have to manufacture it or try and control it? Such hard questions. Such hard unknown. Such hard redefinition of identity. Such hard tension with split-second decision-making.

Feeling both bold and vulnerable in the same moment is a strange gray space to sit in. I can be so bold to show up again at work today with nothing on my head and yet so silently be intimidated when I meet someone and have no idea what judgments they are making… or if they even notice. (Which brings up a whole other thing for me – people want to be seen and validated. I now understand that in a very real way. I want my story to be seen and noticed because it helps me reconcile in my own head some of the “why” of it all. My story and identity are now defined, in part, by battling cancer for my life. I want that to be seen because it means *I* am seen.)

I find myself embracing my new look but remain in the place of “really? Is this for real?” I am okay with this but I’m also so not okay with this. I am experiencing acceptance and yet still incredulous of where I am. I can talk about my cancer without crying and at the same time feel incredibly sad that I have to talk about *my* cancer. I’ll have these matter-of-fact moments or I’ll answer a friend’s question and then all of a sudden think to myself did I just say that?! Bizarre. And I write all of this knowing that right around the corner, I’ll have yet another new look to adjust to. True baldness. Will I be bold again? Will I have to go through all of these same things again when I go to work and meet new people when ALL of the hair is gone? That feels SO hard. And so unknown. And so vulnerable.

I’m feeling this strange gladness that Monday (Chemo #2) is almost here. It makes total sense as to why I would want to see that day through…it’s one more infusion down, it’s one step closer to the end, it’s one more hurdle to overcome. But it’s chemo. What a weird place.

The emotional toll of the day…of the week is hitting me all at once. I’m exhausted. I pray sleep comes easy tonight…

Not A Lot to Say :: 10/26/18 :: Post 408

Hard week.

My heart hurts.

October 26 of 31 :: 10/26/19 :: Post 771

Today was a much needed nothing-day. I slept in way late, was slow to get myself put together, had breakfast at noon and really only had one place to go today. It was lovely.

And there just isn’t much more to say about it. No ah-ha moments. No deep processing. No stand-out emotions. Just a lot of quiet – quiet in my environment and in my spirit and in my head.

Breast Cancer Awareness Month…

…Day twenty-six – The effect cancer has on energy is so unique. It’s like a soul-deep exhaustion where every molecule that makes up my being is as tired as it can possibly be… and the amount of energy that is needed to put one foot in front of the other (both literally and figuratively) is enormous.