And the theme of March will be grace. Grace upon grace. 

grace [ greys ] 
noun
A manifestation of favor, especially by a superior. 

My parents, ya’all. Seriously. So, I was notified early this week that my application for LLC was granted and therefore, I am official! It has been an amazing story to see how one step at a time, not getting to far out in front of myself and really trusting that every step, no matter how slow, was going towards something. And it is only because I have learned to patiently step next, making the path as I go instead of trying to search for a path to stay on, that I can navigate the ‘what’s next’ in this. I have done a few things this week to get situated… separate bank accounts, professional insurance coverage, web tools to enhance the coaching experience, research for how to market myself as a Survivorship Coach and ideas on how to modify my website to reflect my new business. And it’s been so exciting! I have a few more little nuts and bolts to tighten before my official launch date and life is about to get crazy up in here with high school volleyball season starting on Monday, but little by little, without the strain or stress of some arbitrary timeline, I will get to announce my official launch date. So, once again, stay tuned. My next announcement about The Purposed Sailor, LLC will be my launch date.

But, back to my parents. So, they are seriously the most incredible people. They are my number one fans, they always have such encouragement for me, they have walked EVERY SINGLE WRETCHED step with me through cancer treatment and now walk with me through EVERY SINGLE CONFUSING step of Survivorship. And they gave me seed money today to grow my business from…cuz, well, nothing is free…even if it is fueled by passion.

So Parents, thank you. From the inner most part of my spirit, you are, in large part, the reason I am who I am and doing what I’m doing. The big debate on ‘nature vs. nurture’ – well, I am a testimony of both. My mother is fierce, strong, loving, generous, thoughtful, selfless, spicy as all heck, stubborn in the best of ways and words-fall-short-resilient. If I am anything like my mom (and grandmother and Aunties), I am grateful that apple didn’t fall far. My step-dad is the ultimate model of the love and character of Jesus, accepting and valuing, full of integrity and humility, others-focused and deeply committed to incredible conviction. He teaches me well, we connect on a whole other level and I’m grateful for his choosing of me and my mom. And he and I are more alike in so many ways that it totally proves that biology only goes so far. 

The grace they have loved me with in my life is one of my greatest gifts.

*Post 1069


Expectations :: 3/6/18 :: Post 183

Ugh. This “easier” round hasn’t been great. And it’s been different than last. I guess I shouldn’t have expected it to 1. Always be as easy as they said it would be and 2. That each round would be the same. That’s what they told me about the six awful rounds and neither of those ended up being true, either. 

I had a rough night last night. Didn’t feel well, didn’t sleep well, and most definitely felt super discouraged. 

Now, I can’t say it was as bad as the six dreadful rounds that took me to the edge of death, but what felt discouraging was the fact that it didn’t stay easy like they said it would…so either these rounds are gonna be more difficult (and I’m tired of difficult) or these rounds are going to be more unpredictable (and I’m tired of unpredictable). 

Either way, the road ahead looks tougher than I was hoping for and that feels hard. 

I mean……I guess it was silly of me to think anything about chemo would be “easy”. I’m glad it’s not like it was but it was a reminder today that I’m still mid-battle. And I still must choose to fight. 

I pray for continued endurance for myself…..and for my family. We CAN do this. And we are one day closer. 


Burden of Knowledge :: 3/6/19 :: Post 540

My dad starts his radiation treatments next week. I’m finding my heart is heavy in thinking about him… Chris used the phrase, “burden of knowledge” yesterday and that is, in fact, what it is. 

Radiation was hard. Hard in a weird way…. Laying there mostly naked with a huge machine surrounding my body and everyone having to vacate the room and go behind specially built scientifically manufactured extra thick doors and walls because of the damage radiation does. Hearing weird little clicks and being told when to breathe and when to hold my breath because it was necessary to move my lungs and heart out of the way so as to not damage them….and then actually thinking about that as I was holding my breath hoping that the beams were in fact so precise that my lungs and heart were being spared. 

It’s weird to lay there and know the damage being done is also my best chance for living. What a juxtaposition. What a reality. 

It’s also weird because normally when something hurts, it hurts. Like the source of the hurt is obvious and known and a cause and effect rationalization can happen in the brain. If I am cutting food and the knife slips and cuts my finger, my brain can make sense of the pain. If I am walking down the stairs and I trip and fall and break my leg, my brain can make sense of the pain. But radiation is odd because while I experienced the side effects that were painful (and I’m experiencing the reality of the long-lasting devastation with each surgery), I laid there not seeing any evidence of the force that inflicted such pain and destruction. It was just air… I didn’t even see the air between my body and the machine show signs of interruption (you know, like when you look in the distance past a lit grill and see a distortion in the scene beyond the grill caused by the heat waves). 

Cause and effect rationalization makes pain tolerable (or at the very least understandable) because you can “blame” something. Oops, I was careless and cut my finger or next time I’ll slow down on the stairs….

But radiation? I didn’t “do” something to “get what I had coming to me”. Same with chemo. Same with cancer altogether. Weird. And hard to make sense of. And hard to accept as the impact is lifelong. 

As my dad starts his treatments, I will hold him close to my heart because I know the inside of that weird space. I will pray for his body to remain resilient. I will hope for few side effects. I will trust this, too, has purpose.  


Paradigm Shift :: 3/6/20 :: Post 851

While I was in and out of sleep this morning, a picture came to mind. It was me, living in the present, being pulled from behind by “the past” and “the future” was pulling me forward. Both vying for my attention. I felt compelled to give the past my attention to honor the story of where I’ve come from and all that has come from it. At the same time, though, feeling the pressure to lean into the future because that is where I’m headed, that is where I can live out the changes from where I’ve been. Right?

It was an compelling picture, for sure. Compelling that while I want to live so presently, I’m actually not because I am vacillating between two forces, two pressures, two attention-hogs. 

This picture helps me consider the question, ‘What does it actually mean to just live now?’ Maybe living present, in it’s truest form, is adjusting this visual to where I am standing with one hand being held by the past and the other being held by the future, knowing both have equal value yet not being pulled one way or the other; the past and future are at my sides, not one behind me and one in front of me, rather all three of “us” taking steps together, one at a time, as companions.

I feel like there is so much shame inherent in the first visual – ‘come on, just get over your past’ or ‘you’re already done with that, why would you hold onto it?’ or ‘don’t let your past hold you back’ … ‘you have so much potential,’ ‘you’re only making progress if you achieve your goals,’ ‘don’t miss out on opportunities.’ Well, what if it’s not possible to ‘get over it’? What if opportunities are missed? Is there only one path to walk out and you’re screwed if you mess up? NO. I just don’t believe any of that. So, instead, I’m just going to walk, hand in hand, with both. 

That said, practically, this will be challenging to live out because it requires a pretty significant paradigm shift and a constant recalibration to equality between the three, as I don’t think this visual is readily accepted or understood. And I’m not sure yet, either, how to actually live this way. But, I’m gonna try – rubber to the road – to articulate “how” this looks. And in true present form – I won’t know until I’m living it.

(Interesting enough, I had a moment while I was writing this where I thought to change the visual to my past and present selves holding hands as we walk into the future. But, I changed the visual back to the three of ‘us’ holding hands because the future is actually unfolding in the present, the future doesn’t actually ‘exist’ because all is unknown and nothing is guaranteed. And I think that, right there, is the crux.)


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