Hi Brenda!
I was just reading through a blog that I kept while I was going through cancer treatment and came across an entry I wanted to share with you. It’s a testament to the great work we did together and how much you helped me. I am so grateful to you and the role you played in my healing.
I started seeing a holistic healer. I can’t quite explain why seeing her has completely changed my perspective but it has. I feel more calm, more accepting, and less fearful.
I used to see cancer as a horrible thing that happened to me. That I was dealt this shitty hand and had to endure the treatments and I would eventually come out the other side changed by the terrible things that had happened to me.
I no longer see it that way. I am in the midst of enduring rigorous treatment and it doesn’t seem so terrible. I mean it is terrible, but it’s no longer something that is happening to me. It is something I am actively participating in. It is a part of my life, my story, and the essence of who I am and that is okay. We are all dealt shitty hands and glorious hands and that is what life is. A beautiful combination of the dark and the light.
Living at times in the darkness allows me to see all that’s there in the light. Things I may not have noticed before. And in the darkness there are beautiful things: there are relationships that are built, closeness to loved ones, honest emotions that are shared.
My oncologist is recommending four more rounds of chemo. I don’t feel fearful or angry. I will have emotions that will surface as the day draws near but those angry and scared emotions are just as valid and wondrous as the appreciation and happiness I feel watching my body rebound, feeling the tumor shrinking, looking into the beautiful faces of my children.
This isn’t a temporary state to close my eyes in and cringe and wait until I am on the other side. This is part of it and I am an active participant in it. The good and the bad. The darkness and the light.
I am watching and acting with serenity and embracing all the seasons of my heart.
Lindsey Levenson, San Luis Obispo