In between treatment and healing and testing and treatment is…time. I notice things. There are the strange little lights that are now in the colors of a prism and they appear in my visual field now and then- or maybe they are there all the time but I am able to suppress the images sometimes. The steroids gave me some jitters and I blame them for nighttime raids on the kitchen for graham crackers, Veggie Straws, peanuts or whatever else I could crunch. Glad to be done with them until the gamma knife procedure. Now that they are gone I notice all the little aches and pains that they glossed over.
I mostly notice things in those early morning hours when everything is quiet. I’ve taken to sitting outside before sunrise with some citronella candles just in case of mosquitoes but mostly for the campfire effect. I notice the change in the skies to the east and that magical moment when the flowers and shrubs start to sparkle as the first light appears. And I know such gratitude that I can see it- little prisms in my visual fields or not! I notice the appearance of the hummingbirds as soon as there is light for the feeders. The rufus variety has arrived and they are so much more territorial- and even more entertaining if that is possible. Last Saturday Carol and I watched the sage bushes burst into bloom before our eyes. Again, thankful for the gift of sight!
But with all this noticing there is a feeling of being suspended in between times. My mind and spirit are catching up with the reality of this latest diagnosis and I don’t yet know what it means. It is a new part of the journey. The other day I used a mirror to look at the incision on the back of my head to see if I could go without a scarf in public. (I thought it looked pretty good but decided that if anyone a little squeamish was walking or sitting behind me it might cause some distress- so I put on the scarf!) Nothing brings home the reality of a diagnosis like staring down an incision. “Oh yes. They cut into my brain and they took out something that was cancer again.” The body, mind and spirit came closer to being on the same page again.
I started my early morning walks again this week. This morning when I made the turn on the irrigation ditch, noticing how the cotton plants have blossoms that weren’t there when I last walked on July 13, I felt urged to listen to “I Will Lift My Eyes” by Tony Alonso. It is a beautiful piece inspired by Psalm 121 and a favorite prayer by Thomas Merton. I found it on my phone, placed the earbuds and walked towards the east and the mountains. Oh my! Take a listen: I Will Lift My Eyes by Tony Alonso
For times in between this is exactly the faith that is required. And it comes as a gift, like the sunrise each morning and as constant as the mountains.
Up and out, Janet. Up and out. 😘
Janet, my friend Sr. Monica shared this post. It inspires me and makes an instant connection to the “inbetween times”. I know your Journey and He is there with both of us as we continue on His path. Thank you for sharing and my prayers will always include you. – Mark S.
Thanks for reading, Mark. Monica has shared a bit of your story and we’ve been praying for you, too! Writing has been one of the ways I make meaning of this experience and knowing that sharing my reflections is helpful to others is a blessing to me! S. Janet
Indeed, Janet, what a gift! 😘❤️ Holding you in my ❤️ and 🙏 as promised.
Sarah 🕯️
Thanks so much, Sarah!
Dear Janet, thank you for writing and reflecting during your “in between time.” Your written words help me be aware of your journey and more deeply of my own … and to reflect upon gratitude for life, creation, friends, family, and God with us. Thinking of you, my Friend, and sending prayers and love to you and Peggy and Carol and all in your community these days. Greetings to Bill also.
I just spent a great deal of time replying to you on my phone, and lost it. Now, it’s impossible to remember all that I said but know that your purpose is clear to all of us. the way you model religious life for young women discerning their future is a grace beyond words. Your capacity to love demonstrates for those of us who benefit from it a boundless love for life and all creation. thank you. I am deeply grateful for the 21 years that you have been a part of my life, sharing your love, faith and wisdom. I love you and hold you always in my heart and prayers.