Learning a Language...

Well, this is basically a confession, because…. well…

Every 3 weeks I have treatment - every 9 weeks I see my doctor…

and

in the mist that is the (in-between) - I

cope, or weather, or learn -

mostly I learn…

about my relation to myself - how to be in this new body, again…

I should know how to do this by now -

I wrote the book on it, literally - it just needs to find its way to print - regardless… I know this in my bones -

The point being, that - every 9 weeks I have a chance to tell my doctor of my experience - and

these new treatments are hitting me hard…

Not like rain hitting you hard in a crescendo of motivating beats… hard…

It’s like - how do I pace myself in this indefinite reality and maintain my understated identity as a warrior…

yeah that.

My doctor always asks me what I am doing for exercise… I mean I do walk -

but okay, it’s more like a walking dead - I can’t quite figure out this slow-motion fog…

… I very shamefully admit that I am not doing anything because I can barely stay up to 8 pm… sigh.

Of course, she never makes me feel bad, but does encourage me to try, that I may feel better.

Yesterday was not my day. Like every symptom in the book of symptoms kind of day.

So today, I figured, I have nothing to lose, I cannot be more tired, more in pain, or foggier.

So let me just try.

(I have a new amazing app so I cannot take credit for it all)

I answered a mindfulness question - check

Drank a glass of water - check

Woke my mind with 4 minutes of yoga - check (that felt really good)

Took a walk with friends at work - check

Stretched my body with another 5 minutes of yoga - check

I am learning a new language, the stillness of a quiet mind, to reach the corners of the struggle….

… it has a decibel that cannot be diminished, but it can be coached, nourished, and given a voice...

I am feeling really good, and I am truly excited to make my way in this journey, to see how God will use me.

Amen.