Still waiting…

Help us to be the always hopeful
Gardeners of the spirit
Who know that without darkness
Nothing comes to birth
As without light
Nothing flowers. – May Sarton “The Invocation to Kali”

When I moved into my new apartment the large oak tree which shadows my living room windows was full of green leaves. These leaves shimmered in the light of the moon and the streets at night. They shaded my room from the hot sun of summer days. And made me feel alive.

Today the leaves have turned a deep red and will soon fall – leaving the branches bare. We will be moving into shorter days and longer nights. As December draws near we will welcome the glittering lights of holidays, brightening the darkest time of the year. And then what follows is a time of waiting until the buds appear as the first signs of spring make their way in the city.

This is the cycle of life, light and darkness revolving, night becomes day, winter becomes summer, despair becomes hope. Around and around throughout our lives and beyond.

I suppose I am in one of those darker times. A time of waiting for test results and action plans. According to the literature I have read probably the worst time after a diagnosis of cancer, is the waiting. A time filled with tests, a time filled with the gathering of information and stories of hope. A time filled with frustrations when doctors seem out of reach and vague in their answers. A time of too much information and not enough at the same time.

For someone who has not visited a doctor much in the past, I have had my fill this past two weeks. Blood tests, CAT scans, bone scans, EKG, and more blood tests! Papers upon papers to fill out. I think I am going to make a common medical history form on my computer, fill it out, print it, and take it to each doctor’s appointment!

The strangest thing is that I feel no pain, physically that is. No aches, no pains, no nausea. And at the same time, I know there are cancer cells in my body that can not go unchecked. So I wait for the doctors to put the information from all the tests together to form a treatment plan. It is then, through the path of healing, that I will indeed feel the pain, the nausia, etc. Strange. I will find this out on monday.

Buddhist practice has taught me to be mindful in times of vulnerability, difficulties and pain. What I learned from sitting meditation practice helped me to slow down my anxious heart while I was being scanned by a magnificent piece of technology, it allowed me to stay still even though my feet wanted to change position during the bone scan. This powerful practice has allowed me to let go of the regrets from the past and fear of the future and remain mindful of today. The most important medicine.

“In the depth of winter, I found that there was in me an invincible summer” – Albert Camus.

Little acts of kindness point the way. A squeeze of my hand by the woman at the intake booth in the hospital as she told me about her daughter – a breast cancer survivor. The hugs of friends and strangers. A note in my mailbox and email box. Kind words of encouragement and love. Gratitude for technology, the compassion of medical professionals and the love of friends and family.

So although the days are getting darker and the once beautiful leaves are falling withered and brittle to the ground. This time of darkness is a time of alchemy. A time when the fallen leaves make the soil richer for the spring flowers, the darkness makes way for the first daffodils of spring. A time when we find in ourselves the energy of the universe to help us as we walk through the darkness to the light of spring.