You see, it not longer surprises Cliff or me when we reach the point of impatience on long, arduous treks. For example:
- On the seventeenth day of our Pennine Way Walk, in our impatience to be out of the rain after sixteen (mostly sodden) days of making our way along the spine of England, we decided to wrap our last two days into one. We completed that marathon day (yep, 26+ miles) in the (mostly pouring) rain. All because at end of the trail we anticipated dry boots, a warm and dry bed, and a hearty pub meal chased down with generous pints of cider.
- At the end of 28 high-altitude days and 300+ miles in Bhutan, we lusted for the final heavy-booted steps of the trek, which would release us to a world of hot showers (after only one in 28 days -- not hot), food served in warm places (doesn't happen above 15,000') and the quiet unity of one another's company without the ears and input of eleven fellow trekkers.
And now, after nine months of trekking the unknowable path of the Unexpected Journey, we find ourselves growing impatient to be done. After all, pre- coronavirus (and my disease progression), we expected to be spending May and June training for the 1,300 miles of the Via Francigena . . ..
Keenly aware of my personal impatience, last evening I talked about it with my favorite aunt (an incredibly resilient and present women). Then last night, with my state of restlessness laid open and bare, I dreamed that Dr. Rixe (aka, my super-hero oncologist) spoke to me in Caradinian KungFu-ese. And this is what he said:
"Now is the time to fight as you never have fought before."
NOW -- in the present. Now -- in each moment. What is around the corner or beyond the summit is unknowable . . . while what is here today fully is revealed with accompanying waves of appreciation and gratitude. Really, in which state would I rather live (agitated or appreciative)? This is not the time to get caught up with internal fears and desires (and the suffering they bring) rather to increase my awareness of my present environment, dig-in, and trek on.
And so that's where we are. Walks continue. Connections (albeit through social distancing standards) with pals continue. Laughing together over silly (not) words we find in the NYT Spelling Bee continues. Cooking together, dancing together, being together as TeamBoltz continues. . . . in the only moment in which we exist: The now.
So, I'm choosing to take a we'll see stance toward the next leg(s) on our journey (and we'll see takes patience -- a lot of it). I need the equanimity. I need the flexibility. I need all the strength I can summon. To make room, I am letting go of impatience. This grasshopper is rising to fight, as she never has fought before!
Quote of the Day:
Have patience with all things; but first of all, with yourself.~Saint Francis de Sales
Masquerading as a beekeeper: SPF 100 |
- So, targeted therapy side effects are (IMHO) neither greater nor less than chemo side effects. Rather, they are different (and equally crappy). One new effect: photo-sensitivity. Response: SPF 100 outfit (new style for this Florida girl).
- Pondering a new pair of shoes, I caught myself thinking" "Yeah, but how long do I really have to wear these shoes?" Recognizing that demoralizing projection, I BOUGHT THE DARNED SHOES! And they are fabulous.
- I am in the present I am in the fight. I am primed and capable of fighting, as I never have before.
- I am focusing on a greater landscape than that closest to the Unexpected Journey path through a sewing project that shifts my seeing, and doubles my appreciation, to the amazing warrior team. Your passion, determination, incredible talents, abilities, and love inspire me.
VIA FRANCIGENA!
Love your resilience and love those flowers! Forged in fire my friend, that means you're special!
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