Date written: 24 October:
- Day 80 since my cancer diagnosis
- Day Seven, Cycle Three (the last day of Week 1, this treatment cycle)
When I was young, newly commissioned and newly married (yes, there was such a time, some 37 years ago), I joined my newly-minted husband (only slightly older and less-newly commissioned than I) at our first home on assignment in Schweinfurt, Germany. A Florida girl who had just endured four years at West Point -- a colder (gasp, it snows here) and far less sunny spot than my deep south peninsular home (unless it was an endlessly steamy summer day at the academy, even then with no cooling shoreline in sight . . . ), I was disappointed to find more cool and damp weather in Germany.
On duty days, weather was "nothing but a thing," (We used to say things like that, ha!). Soldiering was soldiering. I never blinked at any kind of weather through predawn physical training, firing ranges or extended field exercises. But the weekends? Really, this country couldn't offer up a warm and sunny weekend day? In truth, ever-so-seldom the weather was delightful in Schweinfurt, but mostly not. My choices seemed either to become an off-duty (wimpy) recluse who shrank from drab, drizzly days or (quite simply) to don rain gear and live my whole life -- experiencing the thrill of living in a foreign country as a newlywed with a rewarding career in service to my nation, and oh-so-few cares in the world (in retrospect, really oh-so-few cares).
This new (for young me) concept of accepting the weather (all weather) as a condition, versus a mandate; for action, versus inaction, would help propel me from Florida Girl to global citizen. Whatever the conditions, my mission would continue. Whether on duty or off, environmental circumstances enriched my life without tempering it. I missed nothing. I never waited for rain to abate or winds to calm (in both the literal and the figurative sense). And in this practice, I marveled in the magic of the rain: Leaving glistening streets and grateful flowers (needing the rain as much as the sun to thrive); and of the snow: The heart-pumping goodness of exploring a silent wood on snowshoes or cross-country skis; and of the winds: Whistling music that gave rise to the shimmying dance of trees. Eventually, that acceptance would help shape my trekking perspective: Stepping out not in spite but in awareness of the weather as a gift!
No matter what the journey, against the backdrop of history, life is short, with wholly unpredictable weather (cancer, me?). No amount of grousing, complaining or waiting for the perfect day will add stability, reduce unpredictability or extend my time on earth. What I can do is choose to live my whole life embracing my appreciation of how external conditions empower the open mind and heart to move forward (perhaps with adjustments), to explore, to learn, to grow, to see more and become more grateful along the way -- to become more resilient and more capable of taking on the next thing (and there always will be next things) life throws.
These days, I often am asked if I am getting enough rest, and the answer is yes. I rest when my body signals the need. But mostly this body remains a body in motion. I don't want to sleep through these days. There is so much to learn from the uncertainty of the process. I am encouraged by my awareness that I will emerge from this unexpected journey more-tested and stronger than ever before. So every day, I put on the right-minded gear for each moment and move along this unknowable path curious and determined.
And while I rarely get a (figuratively) funky-weather-free day, I remain mindful of my choice to step into the present -- whatever micro-climate exists -- to live fully, joyfully, gratefully. It's my choice (yours too). Every. Single. Day.
Progress: Week One of Cycle Three is over. Each cycle, I better manage my mind, body and spirit through immediate post-treatment days -- wobbly, nauseated and ever aware of the transitory nature of the phase. Reliably, I am supported by my amazing partner who has mastered an attitude of dignified and kind care partnering in our determination to live Week One -- no matter the rugged terrain and crazy weather -- and arrive at Week Two ready to rebuild and soldier on. So this week, I'll get in my long walk and two, one-hour Peloton sessions, you can be sure. In fact, I'm walking this afternoon . . . in any weather 😁. Next chemo: 4 November. And last night's dance tune? Movin' Right Along! (All hail the Muppets!)
Quote of the Day:
Quote of the Day:
Sunshine is delicious, rain is refreshing, wind braces us up, snow is exhilarating; there is really no such thing as bad weather, only different kinds of good weather.~John Ruskin
VIA FRANCIGENA, 2020!
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