eyelashes

On Wednesday, I had a personal moment. while in the bathroom applying my mascara, the thought crossed my mind for the umpteenth time.

“they’re all gonna fall out.”

and i felt my chest heave up. my nostrils flare open. i was sucking it in.

eventually, you have to let it go. and i did. my breath. and a ton of other girlie thoughts about them.

At my first oncology visit, the nurse practitioner was gazing over the doctor’s shoulder as he did the standard health check on me. gently pressing his stethascope into my chest, she stood behind him looking directly into my eyes.

“deep breathe in for me” he said.

me: (in breathe count of 5. one… two… three… four…)

“wow, you have amazing eyelashes!” she blurts out.

me: (i know and i’m gonna lose everyone of them)… … “Thanks!”

maybe she can’t read my mind. i’m smiling.

but i think she’s thinking it too. or at least wondering if I’m thinking that I know they’re going to fall out.

Really God? a girl’s eyelashes? i’m not even over the boobs. yet.

I looked down at my bathroom sink and there sat a single eye lash, calling my name from the edge of the grand canyon.

i smiled and thought, “make a wish!”

and then began weeping. hard. and decided in that moment I would bless every one of my eyelashes.

each one that still serves me right now. i got them all (still). for a little while longer anyway.

and i thought about making this silly video with my droid last year, before i knew about all this.

My eyelashes have always won me quite the accolades. many women stare closely into my eyes, as she compliments me, looking for evidence of whether or not they’re real. “they are,” i say, or i let her look as long as she needs to if she doesn’t decide to ask.

i always appreciate the compliments. i do. i was blessed; at the moment i was born or by good DNA. astrologically speaking, venus is rising in my chart and she’s the goddess of beauty, art & love. i’m trusting the goddess will remain, through & through, as I watch her transform in front of my eyes in the coming days & weeks.

in my bathroom moment, where i was blessing my eyelashes before they fall, i sort of new instinctively, grace was here. and because i know the power of affirming the truth, of looking into my own eyes and sending grace, appreciation, thanks, gratitude…

i looked up into the mirror and thanked myself for being brave. straight in the eyes i told her, “i love you honey. you amaze me. you are so fucking brave. and i love you for that. I promise to take good care of you throughout this. and to love & cherish each & every eyelash. today’s & tomorrow’s.”

I‘m making a wish, that in every part of this journey, whatver falls out or i leave behind, i affirm my power & beauty, strength & bravery. anything i can think of will be offered in worship, not squandered in fear; not even a single eyelash.

a smile. sunshine. tender loving care from people I’ve never met. and more love from people who already do know & love me.

eyelash wishes.

i’ll wish one for you if you wish one for me… deal?

 

Ready to talk about how to feel empowered to survive & thrive on your cancer journey? If you’re interested in shifting some of your own personal stories around health & wellness, this optimystical way I see things is my gift—my superpower—that I’d love to share with you. If you feel you’d benefit by it, visit my coaching page for more info.

Through The Looking Glass

Inspired by Havi Brooks, I’m gonna do a Friday Chicken. I might even ask her if she’s still using her turquoise wig, well because, it’s cute & I’m gonna be bald here real quick-like.

Anywhoodles… this is an update from Cancerville. Ya ready for cancer my way?

Sunday was Father’s day. I sailed in Long Beach with my dad. What can I say? Bliss. And just the way I thought a girl should spend the day before her first round of chemotherapy.

Monday, I met Shirley who put my “help is on the way” reframe I recently found on an Abraham video into action by squirting me full of magic healing potions. You see, I’m a big bonnet-movie girl. I love Elizabeth and all those movies about the past… and the regalia of charging horses into battle (just saw Snow White at the movies, yeah baby!) Except my men will ride up to cancer and kindly ask it to align with wellness and, if not—well, you know the fairy tales endings 😉

I also decided that my chemo mascot is a guinea pig in Florida named Bobo, who had emergency 5-hour surgery to remove a tooth that had grown over his tongue so he could no longer eat! Bobo is owned & cared for by the mother of the woman I live with. And she is a breast cancer survivor. I’m on the look out for a stuffed animal guinea pig to take to future chemo sessions.

Bobo came today! #gifts #love #support #mascots #guineapig #hugmycancer 

Tuesday I visited oncology to receive a shot of Neulasta which will boost my white blood cells. Joanne is the funniest gosh dern oncology nurse on the planet. I am so crushing on how she brings me the grace in belly fulls.

Wednesday was a big day; two tests. Echo cardiogram of my heart was no big deal. I met Renee. She was pretty. And put stickers on me. But not the fun kid-kind, which we were both pretty perturbed about. “Why no Scoobie Doo for me? Where does it go when we grow up?” we both wondered together outloud.

Later, at test number two, I met Alice. She was available for eye contact and human touch as I lay on my belly and was raised up with my right boob dangling down through a hole on a table. They lassoed my breast, took x-rays to position the needle and then biopsied away. My doctors want to confirm there is no cancer here.

Thursday was hangover day. Can’t really explain it except like that. Disorientation with space & time, no matter how many naps. Lots of resting. I speak to woman about her website via Skype (she’s taking Marie Forleo’s B-School) and she has no idea I have cancer. Until I say so. Weeeeeee. Uh, yeah, please read my blog, okay? Love you!

Friday’s on my blog have usually been held open for Music Saves Me (because it does). My battle cry song as I ride down the freeway in my red superhero underwear (thank you Kris Carr for this amazing tip) is Payphone by Maroon 5. Every single time I head out for an appointment, these two things make me feel rock solid.

On a side note, we are San Francisco bound for Pride this weekend. Before all my hair falls out. I’m planning on getting a henna crown tattoo when it does by one the wonderful folks at hennaheals.com.

If you’d like to follow along with me, you can find me on Instagram, Twitter & Facebook! My shoebox of memories are being gathered up in a Flickr set called HUG MY CANCER. Remember, you can hug my cancer whenever you want. Get creative! Every tiny bit counts. ❤

Ready to talk about how to feel empowered to survive & thrive on your cancer journey? If you’re interested in shifting some of your own personal stories around health & wellness, this optimystical way I see things is my gift—my superpower—that I’d love to share with you. If you feel you’d benefit by it, visit my coaching page for more info.

Cancerville & Wonderland

Do you know how long the diagnosis process is? It’s long & hard. The not-knowing part is hard on you & your loved ones. And Western Medicine, in all of its wonderful technological advancement, is super thorough.

It’s been six-ish long weeks since I received my initial diagnosis. Really, the very beginning of a process that is requiring patience, letting go & trust.

For the last six weeks or so, I’ve followed cancer. Sometimes because I had to (which is really a choice).

Somewhere after letting go and letting go even more again… you just keep letting go. And surrendering.

After surrender, I began seeing so many things happening in the midst of this terrifying situation. Things I felt I had nothing to do with organizing or orchestrating. Things that I could clearly see & understand were for me.

And so then I became curious. Like Alice in Wonderland. Except I‘m Mynde in Cancerville.

I really want to be telling you more of this story. I imagine myself writing tiny little posts about what I consider nothing. Or trivial. But that’s me worrying about what you’ll think about it. And what you’ll label it and me. Blah bluh blah blaah pfft!

And I don’t want to push. Anything. I’m following. Not fighting, defending, or hiding. Not proclaiming war on anything. Making peace with every moment. Each step on my journey through Cancerville.

And like Alice, I will meet so many new people. People I’m destined to know, connect with; offerings of love, compassion and support. Joining together in faith & hope. Trusting & knowing with certainty our broader destiny. Toward living the rest of our humanly years healthfully, in complete wholeness and utterly transformed by the journey itself.

Are you a journey-er like me?

Of course! You may not have destinations through Cancerville (or maybe you do?)—and we can still make it all into a Wonderland—as we go, if we choose. I’m living what I’m teaching and if you’re ready for a different perspective or to see anything in your life with a twist that brings peace, I’m available for coaching sessions.