With the Wind at My Back

More than once in my life I've been called a Pollyanna.  And, at times, I suppose I've been aggravated by the characterization.  Pollyanna, the title character of a series of books written by Eleanor Porter in the early 20th Century, is (to some readers) saccharine.  Now a days though, I relish the description -- thinking that the fictional orphaned character actually had a very strong practice of gratitude.  And on this path, gratitude is the strong and sustained wind this unexpected journey trekker needs at her back to push forward, one step, one day at a time.

Week Two, Cycle Two, was full of those amazing winds of positivity.  That's not to say Week Two was a snap, which I suppose made these winds -- from gentle breezes to full-blown gusts -- all the more powerful.  The contrast of the challenges, which begged a negativity bias to rule the day and my way of being, seemed for me to magnify the good.

 And what came in on the winds:

• Continued birthday wishes that made the "I suppose this wasn't the best birthday . . . " thoughts evaporate.  My Pollyanna said, "Hey, you're here!"  OK, really basic, but given the choice, damned good.   Every kind and healthful zephyr wish created an updraft -- lightening the load of my backpack, and moving me along with joy.

• The challenges of pals.  It's easy, I suppose, to begin to see a cancer fighter as too busy, too consumed in her fight, or (heaven forbid) too sick to continue to be a friend, confidant, sounding board or mentor.  Two of my delightfully amazing friends met tough challenges this week; and they came to me to be heard, to hold safe space, to weigh in with brainstorming and/or to advise.  That's a huge huff of propelling wind.  I double-tied my laces and headed up a rocky path knowing I am not my cancer.  I am me, there for you like always.

• The magic of a haircut.  What could have been a sad, torturous event was made wonderful by the authentic kindness of my hairstylist, Christopher, who came in two hours early to be with me and Cliff, shampoo and cut my (shedding) hair, not charge me (salon policy, no charge for clients in treatment (I didn't know)), and then present me with pampering gifts - topped with an Hermès scarf to cover and conceal my balding head.  And best of all was the lively, engaging and impassioned conversation between the three of us.  The near hurricane-force winds whipped up from that experience left my feet barely touching the path.  I double-checked my speed and distance, and skipped forward feeling loved, respected and yep, even a little bit beautiful.  

 Before

After (me and Christopher)

• The power of Guardian Spirits.  In 1992, Cliff and I began collecting the work of Western artist, Bev Doolittle.  Her watercolor design, embedded with "hidden" natural images spoke to our love of the out-of-doors and inspired our growing romance with the American West.  And as the universe brings so much good and powerful into our lives on every trail, in 2018 life's currents brought Marj and Bob into our lives.  Strong, good, kind friends with abundant spirits matching our love for art, the west and meaningful connection, this couple stirred the winds at our backs to typhoon strength this week when they gifted us Bev Doolittle's "Guardian Spirits" prints.  The images remind us we have the powerful protection of family and friends, the stamina to stay true to our path, the wisdom of many journeys past, the ferocity to tackle this trail and the vision to look forward to the next.

Progress:

So sure, Avastin (my targeted therapy) combined with my chemo in Cycle Two to accelerate hair loss, introduce a skull-pounding headache, accentuate nausea and prompt nose bleeds.  This cycle, Week One effects seemed to drag their nasty little feet into Week Two more than in Cycle One.  And I thought, there is a purpose to this process.  I summoned my subconscious reminder that "I can do this."  I remembered, "No mud, no lotus." I practiced gratitude for the new, the unknown and the less-than-comfortable, which served to remind me how blessed I am and how very much I love this life.

And yes, Cliff and I still danced (Every. Single. Day. -- and the week's hit list of songs really did include Hakuna Matata 😊).  I enjoyed each sunrise and sunset.  I am here, now  -- the only place and time in which any of us truly ever exist.  I am practicing my Pollyanna gratitude -- strengthened by the wind at my back.

Quote of the Day:

Cultivate the habit of being grateful for every good thing that comes to you, and to give thanks continuously.  And because all things have contributed to your advancement, you should include all things in your gratitude.

                                                                                  ~ Ralph Waldo Emerson 

VIA FRANCIGENA, 2020!