Cancer is diabolical, sinister, evil. Yet... I find myself thinking about the gifts it has given me. It's twisted, i know. I mean it has brought our family to our knees, it has robbed my daughters of more of there 'carefree youth', it has put strains on all of us that we never could have or wanted to imagine. Sometimes it felt like we would crumble and fall. So don't get me wrong...i HATE cancer. Fucking hate it. That being said....
For so many years my Dad told me to do LESS. I scoffed at him - i was COMPELLED to do more. I couldn't stop! There was so much to do! How else would it all get done! (i mean to some extent this is true because my family has stepped in to do many of those things). Cancer MADE me stop. Stopped me cold. My life in San Fran, in the first stages of recovery, was very slow. At first, taking a whole day just to get the PEG feeding in. My days now are still slow by comparison, stretching, doing exercises, walking the dogs, cleaning the counters, drinking my meals, reading a book, doing needlework, writing a blog. Slow, so I savor the little things. I know this is a familiar trope - but seriously, we get so wrapped up in the treadmill of our lives, the constant frantic forward motion, it seems almost torture to slow down. Until you go cold turkey, then suddenly slow is good, slow is right. I am taking on more responsibilities as time passes, but I'm in no rush. I don't want to go back to frenzy. The momentum can build so quickly. It will take intention to stay slow.