Rewiring the System

12 Saturday off

Posted in Uncategorized by rewiringangel on September 5, 2010
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This Melancholy and Alone type of creative person sees the sounds of life, hears the vibrancy at dawn. My ear poised next to the great conch of silence as the infinite vast wave of possibility rolls on. I know that my problems are but a flicker of material spun in time, space, and perfume. Waft in and going out, being pushed in Snap! It is Joyful, it is tumultuous. It is not being tough but being supple that shimmers in Nature and now in my heart.

Last night I finally broke down and sobbed. I cried for two hours. I could not settle myself. I was not crying because I had the cancer but because this intersection in my life made clear to me just how alone I am.

I turned on my computer some time around 3 AM and got a Buzz message from a geek stationed in Afghanistan! That is what pulled me together! We typed back and forth for almost 2 hours. All small talk starting with, “I will understand if you do not want to chat with me because I am married’! The best line is that all the men around him think about is their Penises! What his section of the globe of experience is makes me humble.

Do I get bonus points if I say I care, say my circle of ‘friends’. I just feel that people just do not care about anyone not even their selves. How can a person care for and about me if that man or woman has no love for themselves? Perhaps it is a human condition that ‘we are born alone and die alone’, that each of us are encased in a separate skin that our mind sees first.

That’s what it looks like: a 100 foot high sand storm obscuring the unity from the singularity. The one cell from the community or body politic. In all the swirling sandy stuff I am just another grain. I have identified long enough with the sand.

I do not mean to say “Ji Aye Mas’ihta”, ‘gratitude’. Insight is nothing more than gratitude. It is above all the differences in beliefs that have pulled societies and nations apart. It is the same thankful thought that rights my insight every once in a while when I am looking up from the bottom of my broken heart.

It was the sobbing that turned my mind from stoicism and frailty into an acceptance of the changes that are going on in me. The tears were a good thing in that they wash away sleepy sandman sand.

I was turned inside out last night. Today started at noon. I had a time to reflect on my surviving the tremor. I had a nice phone call from a lovely woman who lives in my building. We made a plan to see a french flick with another woman on Monday. Something to look forward toward is a blessing.

My breast is resting. The long walk where it was submerged in cool water did wonders for the flaming heat but it is still painful to the touch.

I engaged in self care today with grace. I actually ate better food that have a low glycemic index: glycaemic index, or GI, is a measure of the effects of carbohydrates on blood sugar levels. Carbohydrates that break down quickly during digestion and release glucose rapidly into the bloodstream have a high GI; carbohydrates that break down more slowly, releasing glucose more gradually into the bloodstream, have a low GI. The concept was developed by Dr. David J. Jenkins and colleagues in 1980–1981 at the University of Toronto. I feel that proper eating habits will turn my life around.

More than a year ago I walked away from a man who was wonderful to me in many ways, though we rarely went to events that interested my soul. I actually miss the talks we had. Being able to talk comfortably about science and philosophy is rare. I have friends currently who seem to be misunderstanding me. There is a repeated story to bridge meaning and understanding. How I wish for more closeness with people.

Breaking up is tough! I sat and felt sorry for myself and allowed my body to fill with carbohydrates which fed whatever possibility there was for wild cancer cells to multiply. I do not want to return to that state of body and mind.

The experience has made me more cautious about who I get close to. A man called and as we talked it became clear that he presumed to have the right to ask personal questions about how I support myself. He wanted to know if I made any money were his exact words. My caution sent up a red flag that I did own in years past. I want to be in love with a truly kind man. With my healthy boundaries coupled with grace in thought and action I hope to magnetize goodness as I heal from the cancer. The radiation is hard on my body. It is hard as running a marathon race into the unknown.

I notice that my thinking is changing today since last night’s heavy tear shower. Tomorrow I will purchase a potted white blossomed plant to commemorate the end of this rain storm.


2 Responses to '12 Saturday off'

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  1. thomas said,

    I read through this post. I can’t say I will ever understand it in all its complexity. Even less so, the writer herself. For who can honestly comprehend another? What strikes me most is that a season has ended, allowing the next to be ushered in. May courage allow an embracing of new seasons. And may there be many.

    • you touch my heart with your comments. thank you

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