The most beautiful classical Vivaldi is pouring into my ears. I am sitting at my computer after a long day of just trying to wake up and feel sufficient for some sort of activity. This morning I said to my partner Steve, “I just don’t want to be alive anymore.” I started crying and he came over and gave me a really sweet and gentle hug. This moment of course pulled me out of my funk for the time being, but it was still difficult to make it out the door for our Neurological Integration appointments. I dropped Steve off and drove to the park where I sat down in some ragged half dead grass scattered with weeds, and began to write my morning pages. The dogs ran around me, bounding up and down the paths with the love of excitement they feel when they go exploring in a new place. I sat and slowly the words emerged on the pages of my notebook. Bruce ran up from the beach and shook on me and my notebook and they both settled in as I finished a complete page in my journal. The day was warm and crisp in the height of July, and thankfully all felt right and happy.

I then arrived at my Neurological Integration appointment with my friend Susie and waited for Steve to emerge from the door. I read a little breakdown on acupuncture and an excerpt from a daily. The appointment went really well and we finished off with some reiki that left me feeling both relaxed and enlivened at the same time. Overall, my body was let speak, and as it was listened to I relaxed into the uncomfortable feelings that were plaguing me like a winter cold.

I am headed into a complete transformation. Actually the beginnings of this transformation have been with me since March when my most recent psychotic break began. That is long over but I have started peeling away the layers of the onion that is I. As I relax into a new medication adjustment or receive a new treatment, my body eases and allows a whole new gamut of issues to arise that have been with me all along. I am so grateful that this stuff is coming up, though it is not always fun. I believe these stresses and stories that are stored deep within us can be the makings of cancer if they are not allowed free and made to express themselves. These inner parts expressing themselves often feels like I felt this morning and I do know as I sit with my journal and checkin on days like today that feeling these feelings is worth it. For me it comes in waves of symptoms, fatigue, anxiety, and overwhelmingness. I just sit and wait for it to pass these days. I know that eventually we will be onto something greater and I look forward to it.

So as the classical blasts into my eardrums, I am reminded that there is so much to look forward to in life. As I process and change, I look forward to what my new outlook will allow me to see. I welcome these changes. One must break an egg to make an omelet, and moving forward we must relinquish attachment to the form the egg used to be in with its white creamy shell intact. As the egg sizzles on the pan, I can only imagine what excitement awaits my taste buds ahead.