A Birthday Stroll

OK, so "The Stroll" as recorded by the Diamonds, predates my birthday by a couple of years. But it's too cute not to share for a Wednesday smile (check those bobby socks and penny loafers!). 

Strolling is on my mind because yesterday, when Cliff asked me what I wanted for my birthday (my second on the Unexpected Journey), I passed on a hike, preferring instead a stroll up Canyon Road -- a notable Santa Fe destination for fine art and dining.

For years we've walked up and down Canyon in all seasons (Christmas Eve on Canyon Road is down right magical), feasting on the shapes and colors that make "strolling a gallery" experience from start to finish. When we first moved to Santa Fe, I explained to Cliff that we would now buy less art, since we could get a walking immersion anytime we wanted, without impact on our wallets or home space (that sort of worked out . . . ).

So yesterday afternoon we celebrated my 61st birthday with a (purchase free) stroll up Canyon. It was a perfect autumn day framed by a crystal clear sky and floating on a crisp breeze. Weirdly, due to COVID, the normally congested Canyon Road was mostly quiet and still -- giving us the perfect opportunity to visit with one of our favorite Santa Fe artisans, silversmith John Rippel. In truth, I texted John before we headed up to make sure he would be in. It had been nearly a year since we'd visited and it was great to catch up. John made my concha belt in the photo.

Arts and the out of doors are just good healing medicine -- and we know we are blessed to live in Northern New Mexico. In the world of healing, we continue along the ups and downs of the trail -- AND we continue to show up (Every. Single. Day.) with our backpacks square on our shoulders and boots double-laced. We share an understanding that we can't choose the terrain, but we always can choose how we'll negotiate the obstacles and breathe deep the majestic views. That outlook is our formula for sustaining our healthy curiosity (versus creating boulders of fear, guilt or blame), flexing our growth mindset (seeing setbacks as learning opportunities versus pits of gloom and disappointment) and expressing deep gratitude (never taking for granted the joy of time shared and connections honored -- like our time with John yesterday). In many ways, our Unexpected Journey has allowed us to visualize a path of "deeper living," which grace our relationships with heartfelt patience, kindness and joy -- all experienced through words that never go unspoken, hugs that always meet willing arms and full attention to the little trials and celebrations that lace each day.  On days when the route is less clear, those are the margin notes true the path.

 Quote of the Day:

Patience is not the ability to wait. Patience is to be calm no matter what happens, constantly take action to turn it to positive growth opportunities, and have faith to believe that it will all work out in the end while you are waiting.”

                                                                                ~Roy T. Bennett 

Progress Report: 

• Last targeted treatment was not so bad -- just a little discomfort the day of treatment.  
• 23 unbroken Peloton Weeks -- I'm rockin' that tread!
• Still doing the 3.5 mile loop -- and tomorrow, I'll be joining Cliff and Illy for the Full Moon Walk!
• I recently found two new KETO cookbooks to jazz up my plan.  Eighteen weeks on the therapeutic ketogenic nutrition plan -- never out of ketosis.
• Our renovation project is moving right along.  The new uber-cool metallic gray tiles have replaced the black granite on one bathroom wall.  I keep going back into the construction zone just to relish the light!
• My latest CEA marker test was again below normal.  Continuing great news: Since my February surgery my markers never have risen above normal range!  Yay for that.
• A friend and fellow metastatic cancer warrior directed my attention to Cancer Commons, a non-profit dedicated to helping advanced cancer patient to learn about and access best treatment for the individual.  Cancer Commons's tailored approach and commitment to share information about what is being researched is incredible.  As a result of this organization, I now count a research scientist among my team of experts.   (www.cancercommons.org)

VIA FRANCIGENA!

Rocks, Nettle and Scree

Presence is a gift.  Presence is a practice.  All too often, presence seems elusive.  And sometimes, uncomfortably, presence is just a tweak away --

In a flash, one's physical environment (no matter how far the adventurer's mind has galloped ahead of her feet) can deliver a corporeal focus that jerks her back to the present.  For a hiker, a mind skipping to thoughts of work instantly will be transported back to the trail with the stab of a rock in the boot.  For a cross-country walker breaking trail, a mind skipping to the end-of-day pub visit can be reeled in by a burning brush with a proliferation of stinging nettle braiding the path.  For a trekker -- mind blooming with summit visions -- nothing says "be here now" like the required traverse of a long, near-vertical scree field.  

Somatic signaling can be, I think, an opportunity to open awareness and an invitation to gratitude.  So when, upon our return to our Unexpected Journey after our two-week drug vacation, I encountered staggering drug side-effects, we got still and present.  We knew we weren't going to shake this rock from my boot in a single step, so we didn't try to "think" it away.  The figurative brush with nettle would take soothing baths and cooling ointments to calm the stinging, so my heroic hubby delivered kindness, tea, gentle caresses and compassion to soothe the burn.  The scree field demanded our attention -- and reminded us the present moment is blessed by past traverses that reassure us we can handle this too.  And in this way, we are grateful for the moment (even the uncomfortable ones).  We are appreciative of our shared determination.  We celebrate each sunrise for its unique beauty. 

Smoke-hazed red sunrise (from the El Medio fire)

 We are reminded to progress mindfully as our journey continues and the present becomes the future.

This treatment cycle began on the anniversary of my first treatment, entry to chemo, in 2019.  In pre-COVID-19 days, my sister was here with me for that first round (so was my hair 😆-- up in a twist):

Deb and me, Treatment #1, 2019

A year later, 8 September 2020, it was dogs optional* and masks required.  In recognition of the day, I wore the same outfit --and added the sister's necklace Deb made for me so she could be with me again.  *In all seriousness, dogs aren't permitted at the cancer center -- even Cliff hasn't been able to join me in the chemo suite since March. 

Munro and me, Treatment #23, 2020

Quote of the Day:

Even in the mud and scrum of things, something always, always sings.

                                                                         ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Progress Report:

• Life goes on in treatment cycle 23 (thirteen chemo + ten targeted therapy).
• Only one new tweak in process: I'm now intermittent fasting to "juice up" ketosis.  My fast is 16 hours fasting, then eating within an eight-hour window each day.  Cliff gamely has joined me in the craziness.  The idea behind the approach is to continue starving the cancer (Although Cliff says there's nothing left to starve).  Recommended by Dr. Hooper (integrative medicine doc)
  
• My Peloton streak continues unbroken and yes, I am now swimming in a neoprene jacket as the days get cooler . . . 
• I'm sewing again, this time Cliff's Warrior Jacket.  
• The next home project finally started today -- after multiple delays.  We've moved into our guestroom as our entire suite gets a face lift (the sound of demo is music to my ears -- good bye to black granite in the bathroom!).

VIA FRANCIGENA!