The Day Lucy Arrived ( second, rather subdued, installment )

The very first thing I could feel was relief.

I couldn't move. I couldn't see anything because I wasn't able to open my eyes. I couldn't breathe on my own. Because of the intubation I could not speak.

But I could feel…relief. Deep, deep relief. 

I could feel my body unclench and relax. It was such an all consuming feeling that it made a vivid and lasting impression on me. I awoke to feel my whole body release and relax and …feel relief.

By the time they had wheeled me to recovery, I was aware that I could also hear.

I could feel and I could hear.

I had made it through. “I” was present. “I” was here. I was still here.
I guess it wont surprise anyone who knows me to find out that I also quickly realized I could still cry.

Seven hours of surgery….behind me.

A drastic drop in blood pressure while on the table. Behind me.

An allergic reaction to the blood they gave me. Behind me.

One bladder, one uterus, 2 ovaries, 2 fallopian tubes, one appendix, a portion of my vagina, 54 lymph nodes…and ALL cancer… removed and left behind.

What I came away with was an Indiana Pouch. A new, cancer free bladder made from a portion of my large intestine. I also have a fancy new dime sized stoma 

( small hole/ access)  just to the right of my navel. This had been fashioned from a portion of my small intestine. I named this new system “Lucy”. 

As I struggled to sense or hear David ( hubby ), I became even more aware of the tube down my throat. I was determined not to allow it to bother me. It was difficult at times to remain un emotional, so I would release a tear or two and then stop. I had enough of a connection with reality to know crying, with a breathing tube in place, is not good for breathing easily. Thankfully, I was aware enough to use the energy of the sedation to meditate through the times of panic. 

The over whelming sense of relief very quickly gave way to gratitude. Not just your run of the mill gratitude…”thank you for your time”…”thank you for sharing”…”thank you for being here”…

No! This gratitude, like the relief, was grounded in a profound awareness of the fragility of life. My own life.

From the time I remember being wheeled into recovery and experiencing the deep relief of making it through the surgery, to the intense feelings of gratitude was about three hours. When I began to consistently perceive voices, I was consumed by gratitude. I could sense angelic presence. From this moment of writing and looking back, I am even more convinced of their constant presence. I could also hear the nurses taking care of me. One of the biggest blessings was them recognizing and verbalizing to each other how well I was doing with the breathing apparatus still breathing for me even though I was “awake”. I needed them to know that I was present. The healing facilitator within me, who is forever reaching out to minister, wanted them to know that their care was a blessing to me. I wanted them to know how important they are in this world and just how grateful I was for them. So I began to use my right hand to communicate. Raising it as high as I could so someone would notice, I began to pretend to hold a pencil and write in the air. It was David who figured out that the little shaking hand, barely hovering over the bedding, was an indication I wanted paper and pencil. With what I thought was a most amazing ability under the circumstances, I easily wrote my message. Later..much later, I found out that while I (barely) held the pencil and "wrote", David moved the paper from right to left so that the letters didn't end up on top of themselves. I wrote

“thank you”.

I know it wasn't a big deal for them…David and the nurses, but it was my whole life in that moment. It was everything I ever had and everything I had ever wanted….

“thank you”.

It was peaceful then.

I wrote to David that I didn't want him to go home..I needed to know he was nearby. I wrote "stay" He told me he would stay locally. More relief.

“thank you”

I could lay there, fully relaxed now, while that wonderful machine kept me breathing…puff… in..puff..out…

“thank you”

They could check my 45 staples and my 13 inch incision..puff in..puff out.

 “thank you”!

They could drain the bag collecting fluid as it built up in my abdomen…in..out..

“thank you”!

They could drain the bag that was collecting urine…in..out…

“thank you”!

When they brought me to a state of consciousness that would support my breathing on my own, they unhooked the intubation tube from the breathing machine. However, they did not relieve me of the tube. Still concerned by the allergic reaction I had had to the blood they had given me ( not uncommon ), they opted to leave the tube in place to keep my airway open. 

“ No thank you” :-)

Without the machine to breathe for me, I had to come out of that complete state of relaxation. 

From a few moments after entering the operating room at about 10 AM March 12th, to entering recovery 11 hours later, to this point in the morning of March 13th I had been sedated so that it really didn't seem difficult to allow the machine to breath for me. It was, actually, quite peaceful.

When they removed the connection to the machine but left the tube in, it was a bit more difficult. The action of my throat muscles against the tube caused me to feel as though I was choking. I fought to stay quiet, I retreated inward to meditate. As long as I stayed there, I was good. When I left meditation to communicate or if that which was going on around me infiltrated and distracted me, I would begin to gag and feel as though I was choking. Only once, though, did I lose focus to the point where the panic took over when I gagged. I tried to stop my hands from grabbing at the tube but I couldn’t! What a weird feeling to KNOW I just had to lay quiet, focus my mind and relax in order to keep from gagging but not be able to.  I kept asking myself to relax, but my hands did not want to listen. They just wanted to help me breathe the only way they knew how and that was to take the tube out.

Several nurses came to my aid…calm, firm, reminding me several times to relax. They held my hands loosely so I couldn't touch the tube but not so tight as to aggravate the panic. With the voice of an exhausted angel in my ear I surrendered into calm and retreated into meditation.

I have no recollection of having my eyes open except for tiny little peeks, during all this. My remembrance is that it was hard enough to process the stimuli I was receiving without adding another sense to assimilate. In this almost cocoon like state I was processing as much as any empath and sensitive could and I couldn't add visuals to that just yet.  Eyes closed.

”thank you”!

When noon rolled around on March 13th, it was finally time to take the tube out. With eyes wide shut I listened to the instructions from an unknown, unseen angel. I relaxed as best I could, coughed, gagged and the tube was left behind. 

 I could finally speak the words that were ringing through my whole being...“Thank You”!!!!... and then it rained liquid gratitude from my eyes. I think I filled my small hands with gallons of tears that day. Gratitude of this magnitude had never visited me before. I guess it was time to balance the horrific terror I had held so deeply in every single cell since being told that cancer was in my body. (WAS!)

 It was time for resting here in the crack...
It was time for healing mind, body, and spirit.
It was time to learn to live, and live well, with Lucy.
<3 

The day Lucy came to stay! ( first installment )

So,

Life between the cracks!

Little did I know when I started this blog

how much living room there actually is 

in the cracks of life. 

You have gathered from reading some of the posts, life really is lived here, in the cracks. We try sooooooo hard to not fall in, and if we do fall in, we scramble to escape. All that energy trying to avoid or escape the very space where everything is sacred, nothing is wasted, all is worked out for your Divine Purpose in this time and in this body. It all works together for good, here in the cracks. Through observance and deep personal experience, I know this to be true and beautiful.....but.....

For instance, I recall the days leading up to and including the day Lucy came to stay. 

I really had not invited her. Really, I hadn't  . No one had invited her in fact and no one was happy that she was coming. No one!! But, no matter what we felt or what we said, she came anyway.

You know, sometimes ( well, most of the time for me) we forget dates of things unless we celebrate them regularly. Like, anniversaries, birthdays, holidays. Those are rarely forgotten. But general things, like people coming to visit or when we took a walk, things like that are forgotten, easily.

But, until the day I die, I will never....NEVER.... Forget the day Lucy was inserted into my life, and really, the life of my whole family! March 12, 2015! Oh sister, what a day!   ...but, I digress.

Like I have pointed out, she was NOT invited. In fact, when I found out she was coming, ( New Year's Eve Day, 2014 ) I was shocked....stunned....I even cried. A lot! She has a different way of ..... doing things. I wasn't at all ready to deal with her and I was not ready to have my life upended. And believe me, if you have a Lucy in your life you know exactly what I am talking about! When they are finally with you, day in and day out, nothing is ever the same. 

I am not certain one can even prepare. I know I tried, but it seemed futile. I didn't know how she would behave ( other than being greatly disruptive in a "I really am helping you" sort of way.) I knew enough about her, being that we are related, to anticipate that things would be rocky, if not down right unbearable, for a few months. I also know myself well enough to know that if I had no choice about her coming....that it was "my turn" so to speak...that I would, eventually, figure out how to manage with her here. But, BOY! I didn't want to have to make the effort!

I had assistance. ( Thank the Divine Creator! ) Hubby and my youngest daughter were especially supportive of me and understanding of my feelings. They never judged me and patiently allowed AND supported everything I felt, said, and did.

Others were constantly popping up to offer and give support during those days of preparation. I say preparation but it was more like a cleansing!! The others were not going to have to spend the kind of time with her that I would. She was, after all, coming to "help" me. ME ... *sigh*, I couldn't say no to her. I just could not! So I had to prepare. UGH!

So, this preparation, this cleansing, began the 12th of January, 2015. I did this willingly. I didn't like it, but I choose to do it. "It's the best way to get ready" said all my trusted advisors. I knew, deep down, they were right. So, rather than waste my energy in resistance, I went inward. I went to a place of non-resistance, of surrender. 

Now, I know there are many ways to cleanse the body. But I knew, at that time, in order to survive with Lucy I would have to be at the top of my game, so to speak. I would need to be free of anything that would cause her to be rejected. So I opted for what my advisors and helpers knew to be the best way forward.

All this for one tiny, little.....UGH! *sigh*....but I digress.

And it was a cleansing, let me tell you!! 

Have you ever read about a shamanic vision quest where the one seeking a spiritual vision/experience finds reliable guides and teachers...sits down with them in a ritual dedicated for this quest, is offered and then drinks a potion and spends the next many hours vomiting, thereby cleansing the body.  Eventually, once this physical cleansing has subsided, the seeker then receives many visions ranging from emotionally painful ones to total bliss ones? No? Google it!

Well, minus the ritual, and the holy visions ( those came months later ) that was my experience. Again, UGH! 

So, there I was. Deeply invested in this cleansing process, which had me filling my body once every two weeks for six weeks with, what I lovingly refer to as "Fire Medicine". What was anyone thinking when they came up with this???  OMG! I remember feeling that Lucy's arrival couldn't really require I endure this? Really? But, yep, that's what the trusted ones in my life were telling me. And I do trust them...beyond all measure. So, yes, I surrendered.

I accepted the last of the "Fire Medicine" on February 9th ( you'll notice, now, I have managed to remember some dates ) but the effects of the cleansing lasted waaaaay beyond what I had expected and, in fact, lasted a month and a bit past Lucy's arrival. Which, ironically, didn't help me cope with her. And in a "living life in the cracks" sort of way, it hindered! *sigh* 

But, even though the effects were debilitating, I was grateful for a way through. It was very uncomfortable, but it was my way through. And , yes, a proven way through. And I had made it! I had made it with a month to spare before her coming! 

So, there I was, through the cleansing and in a rest period but not feeling well or strong enough to cope with what I figured would be hell breaking loose. "How in the world", I would repeatedly ask myself, "am I going to receive her in this condition?"

To The Artist For Mother's Day

There are moments of anguish that come and that I sense so deeply that they leave me feeling, in every fibre of my being, that I wont make it through the day.

This all encompassing oppression comes in a wave unseen, unheard and devastatingly accurate every time. It knows exactly where I am at every minute of every day and it hits with with a quality that seems akin to vengeance.

It feels violent and angry with me.

Do all women feel it?

It comes when I have dishes to do and laundry piling up. No one here laughing with me. No one here asking for me. No muses.

It comes as the vacuum gets pulled out, every two days. It comes when I am choking on the dust in the air. It comes with the floor mopping and dish stacking. Spring cleaning is a deadly time. 

It comes with room re-arranging, ( for the 50th or 51st time in 25 years ) no one really cares about. It comes with the re design of the dining room table no one really looks at or even cares to sit around any more.

It comes with the constant bending over and picking up everyone else's belongs..the things they cant lose, need and must have.

It is so insidious as to have snuck into the garden while I am there.

Now it comes when I rake the leaves in the spring, when I carefully plan out the flowers and ‘pretties’ for the deck, the pool area, the cute little bar table and chairs.

It comes even tho I loath its presence. Who would go somewhere knowing they are loathed, I ask you??

The muses, they played with me. We sang all the time. We danced every day. I painted pictures for our house when we couldn't afford the store versions. I made the muses birthday shirts, and great parties. Held social gatherings, hosted weekly play dates, ran them to and fro and cheered!!!! Oh brother…I cheered and cheered…in my sleep I cheered them on…all of them, hubby too. I cheered my little heart away it seems.

I play the piano a little. I play the harp , a little. I play the guitar, I sing. I carve. I ride a motorcycle. I am a Reiki Master, a reflexologist, a budding writer, and I hope, very soon now, a budding painter…a wise woman at times. I feel the presence of Angels and Ascended Masters, Spiritual Guides, Ancient Ones, and I live with my heart wide open to the True Creator of this, my Life. 

I see my mother now. There she is before me. Fabulous singer, excellent piano player, baker of the most marvelous pastry.. a painter of portraits. A lover of all beauty. Of colors. Of textures. Of smells and feelings. An Empath and seer. Healer, friend to the elderly, caregiver. A woman terrified to own her gifts for fear of rejection on many levels.

She desperately wanted to let go and abandon herself to the creative process driving her. I understand that so clearly now. To live it out, listening intently to the voice that was for her only. To live outside of the constant judgment. To live outside of the expectations to conform, outside the four walls of a very plain and unadorned box. (Well, except for what she could adorn it with in her desperation ) 

She wanted to live HER life FIRST. Not waiting for the others, not beholden to the money maker, not waiting for acknowledgement or approval… not thought to be broken when grieving the absence of many of her own ( would have been ) stellar choices, accomplishments, unsung songs, unpainted and yet exquisite pieces of her art. Not sitting in silence in front of the television thirsting for a life every night.

She made it through every day for 90 years. But she had shut down way before that. Shut every door to the Creators expansive world except inner dialogue; prayer with Divine One. A constant effort to remain in that space of beauty took every ounce of her effort for her last 15 years.

There is something in an artist's soul. Deep and mighty, dark and so powerful. It must be present to be an artist of depth, a being of vivd colors, exciting textures, overwhelming smells, heart breaking stories. A Soul of life altering visions and mysterious wisdoms. A depth so vast and so energetic that with one touch she can heal or destroy. One word slashes or rebuilds. This, this is an artist’s existence. This is all we have ever known. This is what we long to abandon ourselves to. This is ecstasy. All of it. All of it. All of it. 

Sigh

You may never understand me…but today in that wave of energy that moves me ever forward, angry and taking me to task that I would ever want or entertain the idea of remaining still...

today I am free from that …

as I re connect in an amazing moment of understanding…

to
my
Mother.

Happy Mothers Day, Dorothy L. ( Skelton ) Schmidt, I think I am finally getting to know you. 

As We Grow: Opening To The Wisdom In All

Last year at about this time I took a retreat…all alone. Many wonderful things were shown to me and I received many magical gifts and lived many magical moments.

On my first day, a Grandfather Native American Spirit Guide came to me. I saw him standing, looking out over the red rocks as I drove around a corner. He introduced himself as “Big Paw”

There is much to tell around His presence with me, but yesterday one beautiful incident happened that I want to share here today.

When Big Paw accompanied me home, last April, 2013, he came as a Great Protector of my small child within, my innocence that deserves to live on. My innocence, my “little One” = “Desert Flower” appeared with a Grandmother shortly after my return home. In my minds eye I see them out in my yard where my fire pit is, in a small “house” of oak trees. Grandmother always sitting next to Desert Flower.. At first I really did not understand Grandmother and Dessert Flowers presence. I would “look out” to the fire pit (East) and there they would be…silent…not talking with me as Big Paw would. Just…allowing me to see them.

Then one day I looked out and not only were they a smidge closer to me but, Dessert Flower looked a bit older. I thought it odd. When I finally asked Big Paw about it, he brought me to the realization that Desert Flower was me. Thats all the information I got.

Then about 8 months ago I realized that Desert Flower had grown to adolescence and was closer still. So again I asked Big Paw what was happening and it came to me that every time I had allowed healing and integration for my wee self, my “Little One” ( as I like to call her ) she “grew” and she was getting closer to me. At that time I was also given to understand that when all was finally well for Little One she would stand in front of me, turn around to face the same direction as me, and step into me again…becoming more wholly me.

It has been so beautiful to watch. I have not done a thing to MAKE her grow, but have become aware of the healing taking place and how that is happening in all its, seemingly, little bits.

Not long ago she turned and we united again…she slipped beautifully into place and is so happy within as am I, her loving sister, her adoring mother….Her.

When on solo retreat this last two weeks, I again had an accelerated, beautiful time and many beautiful things happened…some easy, some very, very hard to look upon and go through.

One of the easier and most magical moments came in the plane while flying home. I was reading a beautiful and simple book called “ The Spirit of Indian Women” edited by Judith Fitzgerald and Michael O. Fitzgerald. As I turned to page 41 this is what I read ( keeping in mind i am 55 and am considered now a “Changing Woman”…and the exclamation mark is mine)

“When a Changing Woman gets to be a certain old age, she goes walking towards the east (!). After a while she sees herself in the distance looking like a young girl walking toward her. They both walk until they come together and after there is only one. She is like a young girl again” ( Apache Wisdom)

I bow with deep gratitude and respect To Divine Creator. I am Grateful for the strength to walk my path, even when others may not understand it, ridicule it and even fear it, thinking I am the one who is "lost"....for those who do, I gently invite you to Trust Divine One, Great Spirit, God...and let go. Shanti, Shanti, Shanti...Om, Peace and Amen.

In a Body, In a Group, Altogether = Whole

As we travel deeper into life, we become more acutely aware that we are bigger than the sum total of our parts.

 We realize we aren’t the greatest thinker, the wisest one, the brightest light bulb, ( hahaha that right there was funny cuz I did this thing with being the most illumined and..ahem…umm…)

…ahem, so we realize all of that. 

But the miraculous thing is that, no matter what we are NOT, we ARE (always) a vital part of the whole picture. If that were not true then why are we here. We are, each one of us, a Vital part of the Whole. 

As progeny ( or we could say reflections or aspects, how ever it resonates with you ) of Creator, we ARE individual embodiments of Holy Aspects of The One True God. I prefer to call her, Divine One and you may have a name that resonates with you, but whatever you call The One, realize that you are crafted and brought forth  because of Her desire to experience life the way you are going to live it. 

Now, see yourself, but as another...as millions of 'others', scattered all over this beautiful globe, all coming forth from one Creator, truly brothers and sisters with all other aspects of creation, all here from One Divine Source. Feel that connection…let your heart live into that for a while...

Now lets look at one life. A life wanting to fulfill Divine Creators purpose and wanting to understand it's individual journey. How is this possible…?

All that makes you, you, all your thoughts, gestures, idiosyncrasies, talents, abilities, characteristics, perceptions, flaws, fears, Etc. ALL these are merely aspects of the Whole of You. Any one of these things is no closer to being the whole of you than one leaf is to being the whole of the tree from which it grows. And consider, now, all the things that you are maturing out of and all the things you are maturing into. ALL of that is the Whole You.

In order to experience your Wholeness, you must come to realize and understand this Wholeness in its purest state. But experiencing Wholeness in its purest state can not be done by holding it up to another standard…that is being Separate. Wholeness  is… well,, it is Wholeness. You can not experience your Wholeness by seeing it as separate from all the rest of creation, or separated out by time and space.

You thought you knew you…well sit down and think/connect some more.

 And once we have felt this Oneness with THE  Whole, maybe then, when we lift up our eyes and see another, we will see ourselves reflected…and True compassion for self and other will fill our Whole Beings.

In the Crack of life, you know, it seems like it should be a tight space… and yet there is all the room you will ever need…its all there…One. One Whole amazing miracle where you and 'other' are a vital, shimmering aspect of it All. 

Without you, or without the other…there is a very dark void where there should be  sparkles of magnificence.

Together, we are more fabulous than the sum total of our parts,…we are Whole.

Namaste

A Small Key

 The activities we find ourselves involved ( and sometimes lost )  in, whether by choice, duty, obligation; even those situations we feel we have been forced into by circumstances that seem out of our control, these are the very pathways gifted to us which we are able to explore in order to find our connection to the very vastness, beauty and healing of The Divine Creator. Often times these same activities then become the ways through which we are able to manifest the results of that exploration, the witness of that vast beauty, the healing we have received. They become the vehicle through which we can share our findings with those who are  waiting for someone,...Anyone,... to come up alongside and  by way of a word, a gentle touch, a personal story… offer a small 'key' to the heavy door that they want to open. How far they open it, even if but a ‘crack’, isn't the concern for us…open is open.

Sometimes, growth only requires a crack … :-0… ;-) 

Am I Using The Word "Literally" Correctly? : Oiy

The last few days have been quite intense and exhilarating. I signed up to participate in an online retreat through a beautiful web site called www.awakeningwomen.com and have been blessed from my head to my toes since it started 4 days ago. 

The retreat is an amazing journey into the deepest parts of your being. Down into the ugly bits that we hide away and then pretend are not there in hopes they will go away. Of course they don't go away. Like a horrid mold, they rage on in the damp, dark corners of your secret self. There they fester and grow pungent under the heavy stones of denial, thickening in viscosity and threatening to erupt like an angry boil.

Ahhhhhhh.....sorry, I digress.

So, during this retreat then, the participants have been asked to seek deeply. To embrace honesty as a constant companion. The rewards are far greater for the Divine Warrior. The one who really wants to, and does, overturn the stones and dig into the corners. 

All this exhausting emotional work is to be stuffed into every tiny, available, empty crevasse of a moment the day may provide, while living out your daily "normal" activities.

Today, day four, I am finally stripping myself of some of those things I do without even thinking much about them. Those ways of perceiving, thinking, reacting, behaving that have been a part of me since I was a tiny girl. 

They worked for a time, but now, now when I desire more of me...when I desire to BE more of ME, they no longer serve. They may have, at one time, been established to protect me. Now? Now after all this time and all the hurts and failures they have morphed into enemies and they keep me from fully embracing ALL of me. I spend too much time fighting them back, fighting to keep the good above and the ugly below. I am ready to embrace ALL the good and ALL the bad. 

Mind you when I say I am out to embrace the bad, I am not saying, like I have heard so many say of late " That's who I am and I am not going to change!" Saying that I am embracing that which hides in the darkness is NOT saying "This me, good and bad, and I am not changing!" How very, very sad to not want to change! To not want to look at what hinders, and name it, thereby removing all of its power.

No, no, I want to name it, bring it out in the light of day. Dig into the corners, over turn the rocks and expose the ugly mess to the sunshine. Dry it up, so to speak, so that instead of it bubbling and boiling under the surface waiting to erupt with any tiny bump of frustration or indignation when a weird text comes or an odd Facebook comment is posted or someone leaves their dirty dishes all over the house or the dog chews yet another window sill off, instead of it erupting and causing havoc on all fronts, I can, at my leisure,  turn to where it lays quiet and domesticated…waiting and willing to serve my highest good.

In this way I can calmly access it in order that it may inform my authentic response instead of being over powered by it and catapulted into an ill advised reaction, judgment, or just numbed by it so that I can't respond at all. 

So, you see, this is why I decided I needed to find something to wear this morning that would be a visual outward manifestation of this cleansing process that is taking place on such a profound level.

I chose a sweet, white, lacy knee length shift.

I took a hot bath with lavender oil. 

I slipped the shift over my head and as it fell into place over my aging hips I began to feel a bit lighter and released from the heavy, emotional work.

I never, ever wear thongs..but today? Today I decided I needed to feel like perhaps I could get away with it. No one would know. There would be no judgements.

The day was perfection...meditations, incense, candles, prayers, me in my white lace dress.

Here is the thing about being a bit ....hmmmmm....let's use voluptuous...being a bit voluptuous and wearing a thong. Sometimes...and it's only sometimes… one who is voluptuous can forget it is there.

And so perfection ends after several cups of tea and a lonnnng meditation …I run into the bathroom and sit...and wonder..."Why is this such an odd experience? I don't normally have this strange flow of….OMG!!!!!"

Now...I ask you,...can I say that this is "literally" Life Between The Cracks?? 

Hahahahahahahahaha awwwwww 

Peace and Laughter In Your Journey!

Peace,