Deepening the Learning

I came home from witch camp with some new promises: I promise to write more. I promise to dance more. I promise to take better care of the earth that is my body and the earth that is all around. So I am writing and letting go of attachment to outcome.

The day after coming home, I had scans. Today I got the results.

Here is what the doctor said, "Your scans are…Stablish." My cancer is growing, there has been a little growth in the past six weeks. I knew this day was coming--but it was not possible to predict how living with this information would feel. Feelings are complicated. I feel ready to "deal" with cancer. I feel sad that cancer is progressing. I feel scared about telling people. Especially my daughter. And I feel pissed that I didn't wear the socks that Willow made me. Every other time I have been in this office I have had them on. Every other time, the news has been good.

When this drug that I am on stops working (which I knew from the get go that it would), I have other drugs to try. They are coming out with new drugs for the ALK mutation that I have--this time last year there were only two oral drugs, now there are four. Plus, (lucky me) failure of my drug qualifies me for a trial study of an aggressive chemo drug. 

Last year at witch camp, I learned that I wanted to chose life. I gave myself permission to want the things I wanted and step into the center of the life I am building. And live there. Embodied and unafraid to fully experience life even if it hurts myself and others. This year, I see ways that full living has happened and ways that it has not.

This year, my camp focus was on grief work. I was excited to bring all the fruits of my grief labor over the past year to offer others. (It is humbling to even write this down!) I was excited to connect with others through their grief. It didn't work that way. Instead, I tapped into a grief that was deeper than any I have experienced this past year. Cancer has made me feel like an outsider in many ways with people. I hate the identities of cancer and terminal illness and I can't shake them. It is painful.

I came through the hard grief and left camp knowing that my learning is deepening through my life with cancer. I still want to have that embodied living. I still want to build a life and live it. And, I am called to the difficult work of accepting cancer as it is right now. Right now, it is growing. (Fuck, that is hard work.) Don't get me wrong--I am not throwing in the towel. I am still ready to stick around a long, long time.

I don't want to say I choose cancer, because I don't. I want to say, "I choose life and accept the grief that comes with it." For me, today, cancer is my grief. But it won't stop me from making plans to go dancing this weekend. <3