July ise an emotionally challenging month. A reminder. An anniversary.
3 years. 3 years since my diagnosis. July 25th, 2011.
I’ve noticed how I am invited to experience once again my woundedness. The pain, the fear, the suffering. I wonder how it is that I remembers vividly the moment the nurse told me the biopsy showed ‘carcinoma’. Perhaps it is precisely because the feelings are so deep and intense that they are remembered – remembered not by what I think, or what I want, but by the emotions, by the substance of their meaning.
This morning, Rachel Naomi Remen, author of My Grandfather’s Blessings, reaches me in her chapter “The Meeting Place” with potent reminders of my vulnerability and fear, and, more importantly, my strength and wisdom. She brings me comfort with her promise of the beauty of being genuine, intimate, and profoundly human, not just inside myself but in communion with others.
As I touch this soft spot of my cancer, my hope is that I become ever stronger and wiser, able to find refuge in my sharing.