GARDEN DELIGHT

Dear gentle readers, a reminder: there is nothing constant in life but change! My sister Sue was supposed to come to visit this week from Richmond - but got sick, and won't be coming. As I nursed my disappointment, we received an invitation to go to New Hampshire to a lake cottage for three days - a mini vacation! Expect the unexpected!

This week my friend Sally Waldron brought an amazing gift to us: a garden 'totem' she constructed in pottery class. In the pouring rain, Sal and I (in our fetching rain ponchos) constructed this amazing piece of garden art - what a gift!! Now my garden is blessed and watched over by my totem.

There are few things in life that equal the value of a good friend. I am indeed honored! Enjoy summer and gardens, my friends.

A note to friends: I have mini surgery next week for my kidney 'stent', but all should be a breeze. Traveling to remission!

VISUALIZING NORMAL!

Dearest readers, I have great news! One indication that chemo is effective is the reading of so called 'blood markers for cancer.' My markers have been steadily decreasing, and my doc told me this week I am in the NORMAL range!! (Not that I EVER feel very normal...) This does not mean the tumors are gone, but a good indication that the cancer is almost inactive. So I am very excited!

This has been a strange week - finally able to have chemo again - platelets and white cells also back to NORMAL. My body doesn't really love the chemo, but being home enables me to collect reserves to deal with the stuff.

I attended two groups this week, and listened while sisters in the big "C" recounted much more difficult journeys than mine. I am so very fortunate that my body is handling the infusions without severe side effects, as I say so often. Listening to stories makes one quite humble.

In our guided meditation/ art therapy group, I continue to invite images for my journey. I have been trying to upload my own butterfly ride sketch, but this will have to do. Beth and I attended the South County balloon festival on Sunday, and such a ride is on my bucket list! Almost as good as a butterfly flight!.

I am convinced that such imaging is a powerful vehicle in the journey to eject cancer. Will write soon, but for today am up and away. xx

BEACH, BREATHING, BONDING

Thanks to friend Marilyn I spent yesterday at a beach in Little Compton, RI. There is nothing as peaceful as time watching the surf - the ebb and flow are life renewing. We sat under an overcast sky, but the air was delightful with a warm breeze and the muted light created a meditative mood for us both. The time on the sand gazing at the ocean horizon helped calm my impatience as I continue to wait for my blood levels to come back. (Send psychic messages, dear friends, that I can do chemo next week - it's been nearly a month of delay!!)

Marilyn and I have known each other for over 30 years, and always have great conversations about learning, knowing, living and healing. In addition to being a reading educator, she has become a licensed therapist. She completed a degree in 'integrated therapies', and has studied a variety of healing strategies using Buddhists ideas and inspiration. Our conversation was another confirmation of the importance of breathing for our well being.

Today I had several long wonderful phone conversations. Sister Carolyn and I exchange thoughts on reading and art projects, Lorraine shared those radical hippie lezzie days in Atlanta, Judy is my best pal in RI. These cell phone ramblings again reminded me of the strange gifts of this time, that I am strengthening the bonds with loving siblings, family and friends who are giving me so much support. In my many hours by myself, I reflect on the these treasures , and the many ways that being enveloped by love is aiding my healing and moving me forward in this adventure. (How linear we are...) Of course, my loving Beth is my heart, and accompanies me on all the byways of this strange journey.

As with the ebb and flow of the tides, I am carried through this experience we call time. The day at the beach was an island of hours away from the everyday. Summer is a good thing...

BEAUTY OF BLOOD AND TREES

Greetings dear readers! Well, for a second week in a row, my blood counts prevented chemo - this adventure has led me to think about our amazing river of life, our blood. I am fascinated by the connection through blood we have with our world and our universe. The heart - lung system is really quite a wonder - and as we as a species have learned more about our physical system and it's relationship to the broader systems of life and energy, we are now able to use it to repair and replenish our physical selves.

The oxygen - carbon dioxide connection has always intrigued me. I love the fact that this system connects me to trees! I give them CO2, they give me oxygen - a mutual life giving exchange. I thank about trees on a daily basis! (Hug them whenever possible...) Through my friend at the Unitarian fellowship/sisterhood, Ray, I am learning more about the amazing variety of trees on our planet - each with its own special gift. Ray is the Tree Director at Groundworks, a RI organization that supports gardening and tree planting in the city, particulary in lower income neighborhoods and parks. Would that as a species we were as mutually supportive as we are with trees! A revolutionary thought! My friend Bill Coffin in Atlanta, an arborist, has been fighting that city since they fired him after he reported incidents in which big construction developers were paying off members of the city arborist team to allow them to cut down trees and build in the city. And then there is the tragedy of big corporate greed and the rain forests...

So I am feeling kinship with trees. In my meditation group this week, our leader provided a guided meditation that took us to a place where we could feel safe and comforted: a vision came to me of a home in a tree trunk - a cozy magical space like the residence of Winnie the Pooh.

I realize that my affection for trees comes from their double function: roots that keep us grounded, boughs reach up that provide a launching spot when we want to fly. I am at the moment looking out at our amazing maple tree next to our driveway: the boughs and leaves are dancing in a breeze that suggests impending rain; robins and sparrows come in for landings, dart off to another leafy perch; the sun comes from behind a cloud and light reaches through the green spaces. May we keep grounded yet fly towards mutual support, community and life!

MID SUMMER DAYS AND NIGHTS

Once again a week!

Despite my leave from work for my weekly chemo, I have been busy - thinking, resting and writing. As I have been sitting on our deck, looking out at my midsummer garden, I am filled with thanks, concentrating on life and health. I have been writing a small presentation for Sunday at our Unitarian congregation in honor of Thomas Jefferson - focusing on his amazing gardens - his devotion to both beauty and usefulness - liberty and sustenance. Last summer, Beth, my brother George, my grand nephew Palmer and I visited Monticello and spent the day in awe - of the house and it's wonders, but primarily of the phenomenal gardens.

I was reminded that Jefferson and all the folks of his time - European settlers, slaves, native Americans - depended on gardens and plants for sustenance and survival, and for healing. And of course, I was reminded of the contradictions of Jefferson himself, and ourselves: that we excoriate systems of oppression while we continue to benefit from their existence.

I continue to explore natural remedies for my own journey, even as I submit to the chemical treatment of my little monster. But I hope to find plant based applications to send said monster into apoptosis!

And I have the gift of this time to focus on returning my body to health, strengthening my spirit and my resolve. Last evening, Beth and I had a marvelous dinner with friends from Bell Street Chapel - Ellen and Stu. These gentle amazing people have a small organic farm, raising chickens, turkey, and the most beautiful vegetable plants. Ellen herself is struggling with a difficult neuro-muscular disease, but has the most amazing spirit and determination. They raised four sons on this magical garden space, Ellen was a teacher and Stu a social worker. We were joined by Carol and Arlene, two other wonderful members of our Unitarian community. I felt my own journey strengthened by this lovely evening.

Once again, I see the ways that my journey is bringing a wealth of friendships and the expansion of my own universe as I learn from new friends. I wish to all my dear readers a wonderful 4th of July weekend - may each of you find joy in family, community and celebration, and the belief in 'revolution'! xx

So, dear readers, my first week away from work was filled with family and frolic. After chemo on Monday and the usual Tuesday recovery space, my brother George came to visit on Tuesday night for a short two and a half day visit from Virginia. We had the great fortune to be able to use the Grossi family beach cottage at Charlestown RI for the three nights - wonderful chemo recovery space, complemented by the best possible June weather (despite dire predictions of storms.)

As Bro G said, the visit started with my space out - in my rush to get to the bus station to pick him up, I grabbed Beth's keys - and didn't discover it until half way from Providence to Charlestown. George was a champ, turned around and drove back to N. Providence, and we continued with our rambling dialogue - in the pouring rain! With the proper keys, we got to Charlestown and settled in for the first night of sea air (what healing breath.)

Over two days, we settled into our natural sibling chat - we share so many interests including progressive politics, philosophy, education, travel and people watching. We chatted on strolls to the beach, kayaking the beach pond a bit, lounging under the spreading birch tree, and eating steamed lobsters, steamers, little necks and corn. Now this is a chemo recovery path I recommend! I especially enjoy my brother's excitement about science - he teachers middle school science (after a 20 year stint as a computer nerd for the Navy!) We share a love for the periodic table (mine philosophical, his scientific) and our awe about our universe. Pic at left of our compass rose - great way to beautify a septic! There can be beauty in every function... p.s. earth wind, water and fire design by Madelin, age 9) Our conversations made me want to go back and take high school chemistry again, and physics for the first time - maybe this is ahead for me!

Our hours and days together were the best gift - I thank my brother and our partners.

Then - Saturday Beth and I hosted the "Madolympics" - a birthday party for niece Madelin, famly and pals in our back yard. We had a torch parade, amazing contests ( hula hoop tricks, ringtone dance contest, slippy slide marathon - the "Madolympics cardboard medals are treasures for all) topped off by a giant "jumpy house" for kids of all ages. My Beth of course created Madelin's favorite meal of chicken wings, rice and salad, plus killer guacamole and an almond pound cake! As more than 20 people gathered for the food and fun, I was reminded again of how important it is for me to be surrounded by family, laughter and love. I am one of the more fortunate humans in the universe! (Note the poppies - seeds from Mom who was there in spirit for this gorgeous day!) Life is a bloomin' miracle!

TIME TO PROCEED WITH LIFE!

Well, dear patient readers, a whole week without a post - what a busy life! (and early bedtimes) I had chemo last Monday, and worked every day last week, at least some hours. Now as I continue with weekly chemo, I am on leave. It's a strange feeling for someone who has been so career and job oriented (progressive adult and youth education - in the context of progressive social change). I have had a chromatic range of emotions as I enter this time to focus on getting healthy, evicting the little monster.

First, there is that weirdly exhilarating combination of fear and excitement: like the moments before you propel yourself into a back flip on the diving board. Where will I land? Can I adjust myself to this knew unknown function in space? What will I DO with myself?

Then there is the sadness: I will be out of the loop, I won't be identified with this greater purpose, I will become invisible.

Finally there is relief and a calm waiting: I have always actually looked forward to the unknown. So today, after another chemo, I walk in the garden, speak to the plants, admire the amazing summer blooms and concentrate on quieting my mind.

As noted by Mr. Majorium of the Magic Emporium: Life is an occassion - rise to it!

I will keep you posted! xx