Lord of the Dance

Friday, my oncologists tried to reach me with the results from the body and bone scans I had taken several weeks ago but missed me since I was working an information table on sleep at different locations around the hospital in my pajamas.  Several hundred people stopped at the table to see if I was a lost inpatient (smile) and gained a short coaching session on sleep.  Finally, my oncologists called MaryBeth and told her that my scans had moderate changes suggesting my latest chemo was not working.  The clinical trial I am in has three oral chemo’s and I have been through two.  We will meet in two weeks and decide if I move to the final oral chemo or chemotherapy by infusion. 

Sunday morning as I walked around the yard following a large swallowtail butterfly, she stopped by the pear tree with its nectar-rich soft white blooms.  As I stood and watched her gently kiss each flower, the stillness of the moment surrounded me and I felt my anxiety about the upcoming chemotherapy decision fall away.  I could feel God dancing as the large swallowtail fluttered her wings, and I heard my dad’s favorite hymn, Lord of the Dance.  “Dance, then, wherever you may be, /I am the Lord of the Dance, said he, /And I’ll lead you all, wherever you may be.  /And I’ll lead you all in the Dance, said he.”

This week, dance, wherever you may be with me…………

Are You Mindful Enough?

Sunday, I took one last walk to the cliffs to stand and watch the waves far below, and instantly I was back in high school English reading the words of William Blake, “To see a world in a grain of sand / and a heaven in a wild flower.  / Hold infinity in the palm of our hand / and eternity in an hour.”

Maybe it’s just me, and my stage IV cancer journey, but multiple times a day the fragrance of a flower, a whimsical cloud formation, a blade of grass sparkling with morning dew, or rainbow window reflections become moments where I move from the mundane to extraordinary.  It is in these boundless moments of a broader vision of life and its meaning, I hold infinity in the palm of my hand and eternity is but a moment I experience.  Are you mindful enough “to see a world in a grain of sand”?

Robert Frost Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…

Where am I going?  Where have I been?  What choices along life’s way have made all the difference?  Last week as I walked the forest surrounding the Commonweal Retreat I quickly became deeply reflective.  It was the mix of the woods and circle work in a community of learning and caring that each day had me reaching deep.  The mix of past, present, and possible futures were like ocean waves that I’d surf, and at times tumbled down their face reliving past moments or experience the fear of free-falling into too many possible futures. 

What did I learn at Commonweal?  It wasn’t so much what I learned, but the reminder of those lessons along the way making the journey awesome!  Much of the awesomeness has to do with the people, relationships, love, kindness, and their unconditional compassion.  I also recognized that I am the kind of person that accepts the mystery, unknown aspect of life.  Faced with two diverging paths, you can count on me taking the one that offers the mystery of untold possibilities.  Why?  Because I’ve learned that along this path I will meet unconditional people who also believe the mystery in life paths are awesome!  How about you?  Two roads diverged in a yellow wood…  

My Visit to Commonweal

Last week I was at a Commonweal Healing Circle meeting held at their retreat center in Bolinas, CA.  It was an extraordinary gathering of people focused on small group work that “touches the soul and helps us find our way”.  Each day I experienced the power of circle practice and listened to stories shared about transformation and healing.  The rain and heavy morning mist kept me from climbing down the ropes hanging off the cliffs to walk the beach and feel the power of the raging waves far below.  Instead, I walked the deep green forest mindful of the poison oak, awed by the calla lilies, and lost in deep thoughts about my life and cancer journey.  Towards the end of the week one early morning after walking the labyrinth, I wrote, “again and again the goodness that surrounds me lightly brushes my soul; strengthening my resolve to fully live each day as my cancer slowly spreads.”  What is your resolve today?

Walk on the Edge

Yesterday was a cancer care day that started with a blood test at 7am and ended at 6:30pm with a CT scan.  I spent a little over an hour with my oncology team ensuring that I was tolerating the side effects of my different chemotherapies.  After receiving two new prescriptions, I headed to bone scan prep and after several hours of waiting for my bones to absorb the radioactive dye, I feel asleep in the scanner.  The CT waiting room is large and L-shaped with a fish tank and several TVs.  I decided to sit in a sunny spot in a far corner away from the crowd to drink my glass of raspberry contrast dye. 

I was sleeping lightly when I heard her whimper; she was in a wheelchair pushed by a big cowboy and wrapped in several blankets so only her anguished cancer face peered out.  They settled several chairs behind me and at some point, she stopped her whimpers, but I could feel her eyes.  I slowly turned and as I did, I caught her smile as she looked directly at me and nodded.  I was in my Indiana Jones outfit, with the hat, leather jacket, and satchel.  You laugh, but yesterday as I walked through the internal medicine waiting room I noticed a thin man in a Dr. Seuss Cat in the Hat, hat. 

How do you walk on the edge of life?  I’ve learned wearing armor to shield myself from the fear and anxiousness of hours of tests and days waiting for results pushes me deep inside where negative self-talk turns nasty.  In my Indiana Jones outfit, I was ready for the adventure, open to all the emotions and willing to listen to the stories from other cancer survivors or caregivers.  As the CT tech called my name, I turned one last time to tip my hat to the women sitting in her wheelchair buried in blankets.  Slowly she raised her hand, smiled and cracked her imaginary whip – she understood what it means to walk on the edge of life, do you?   

Reenergize the WE

We are twelve days from launching OneConnect the new EHR system at MD Anderson, and our largest systems change in 70 years.  There is a mix of excitement and tension in the air creating the kind of “good stress” that moves individuals, teams, and great organizations forward.  George Everly has found in his resilience research with Navy Seals, that connectedness and support are the single most powerful predictors of individual and team resilience.  A successful launch at MD Anderson will take an all-out effort these last twelve days where connectedness and support reenergize the “we”.  How will you reenergize the “we” in your family or on your team today?  

Why develop a mindfulness practice?