Those first few weeks are an unearthly season. From the outside you remain so ordinary, no one can tell from looking that you have experienced an earthquake of the soul. You've been torn asunder, invested with an ancient, incomprehensible magic. It's the one thing that we never quite get over: that we contain our own future. [Barbara Kingsolver, Animal Dreams]
NOT sure I understand this. I’m only certain that it makes sense to me.
On the outside, I look good. Healthy. Strong. Younger than my 61 years. I manage and I live day in and day out.
But cancer has been “an earthquake of the soul.” It has made everything buckle, shimmy, and some of it even fall, shattering into too many pieces to put it back together.
Even if chemo has messed up my eyesight, it has reavealed in me a sort of acceptance unlike anything I experienced up until Now. I understand something deep, more important, something that doesn’t require my eyes to SEE it, only my soul to embrace it.
If you ask me, when something extraordinary shows up in your life in the middle of the night, you give it a name and make it the best home you can. [Barbara Kingsolver, High Tide in Tucson: Essays from Now or Never]
I agree completely.
I love you, Currie