To Tell the Truth

Dear Friends,

Lately I’ve been stuck and trying to figure out how to dislodge myself. Sometimes I think I should be able to tell a shinier story. Afterall, my health is stable and I’m doing well overall – certainly 100 times better that I was two years ago. 

But it turns out that some days this part is hard too. I remember that I never committed to telling a shiny story, but rather to telling a truthful one. This is a story in real time, a narration of walking this path without knowing where it will ultimately lead.

wisdom from Andrea Gibson

I live with profound gratitude for more good time with my beloveds and with the beauty of this world. I also live among questions, accompanied by a shadow. I’m stable. And the routine of treatments, scans, blood tests continues. I still hold my breath every time while I wait for results. Recently the results have been “puzzling” to my oncologist. I don’t want to be a puzzle. I’d rather be an open book. Some days it is hard to accept that I will always live in precarity.

I’ve been caught off guard recently by the weight of this stage of living with cancer. I’m doing well. Mostly. There is a small problem, which may just resolve itself. Or it may become something more concerning. And this is how my life is and will be.

The first several months after diagnosis, I was so sick and I was focused on the rhythm of chemo and getting better. And I did get so much better. Then I was focused on reconditioning my body to be able to walk and participate in the activities of daily living again. Next, I began to reclaim pieces of my former life, like travel, and getting out into the world more. All of that is great news. Now my task is living fully within my limitations and learning to dance with that shadow. Lately I have found that to be a challenge.

This weighed me down for a while, until I finally was reminded that the truth can set you free. There were lots of synchronicities in this process with truth-telling showing up in poetry, music, conversation, just to be very clear that this was the next step for me.

Telling the truth to even one person can be a liberating act. Andrea Gibson writes “even if the truth isn’t hopeful, the telling of it is.” So I admitted to my spouse and a couple of trusted friends that I was struggling. In this case, just the admission and being heard lifted the weight enough that I felt like I could breathe again.

Cole Arthur Riley, a writer who writes also on Instagram at @blackliturgies wrote: “Self-care can be sacred, but we won’t survive by it. It’s exhausting to be your only hope of relief. Who can you trust to hold you? Collective care is our calling.”

Collective care starts with telling the truth to a trusted friend, and with being that trusted friend for someone else. Collective care asks us to lean in and to lean on each other. I have people I can lean on – I sometimes just refuse to lean. I can be stubborn that way.

I wish you someone to lean on and the courage to tell the truth. I wish you the strength to be the one who can be leaned on. Let’s tell the truth and take care of each other.

Thanks for being here. Please share this with someone who might need it too.

Lots of love,

Maija

Songs of the Week: A classic, Bridge Over Troubled Water here by Aretha Franklin for the times we are there to catch someone else. And a wish for you: Love and Happiness by Kimmie Rhodes and Willie Nelson.

Also, I highly recommend American Symphony on Netflix which profiles musical genius Jon Batiste, and includes the story of he and Suleika Jaouad (his spouse) facing her recurrence of leukemia.  It’s a beautiful documentary all around. I also highly recommend her memoir,  Between Two Worlds: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted.