The last several months have been difficult and beautiful. After being diagnosed with a terminal illness, I was faced with the truth of myself. The ugly and the beautiful, the complacent and the inspired. The pessimist and the optimist. I was charged with the adrenaline that surges after a dramatic saga, the kind that leaves you somewhat raw and disheveled, overwhelmed by emotion; and simultaneously empowered and determined to make a happy ever after ending out of a desperate situation.
I have to be real. I cried a lot. I got mad, blamed several of my loved ones, cursed the choices of my youth and cried some more. And then, turning towards what I have learned in my years of study and playful dance with the Great Spirit, I embraced the Mother of creation and transcendence and went along for the ride without judgment. I want to journal it here to inspire you to continue to live out your life inspired and courageous, never allowing yourself to be told what your destiny is, but rather to create it yourself. Your design is unique to the world to bring joy and beauty to yourself and those who choose to watch your unfolding story.
I will write in more detail about many of the subjects in this conversation, but to give you a brief overview of what has transpired since I was last engaged, I will keep it short and useful. I want you to be aware of three very important tools that can change the course of your life at any time you wish to experiment with them. I will cover an introduction to RSO,( a type of cannabis oil), honoring your self as the creator of your life, and boundaries.
So to begin, let me tell you about Rick Simpson Oil, RSO, and the way it completely altered my present experience. I was told I had bone marrow cancer, extreme anemia and a reemerging brain tumor. While disease and inconvenient disorders of the body have not been foreign to me, I was certainly taken aback when the prognosis was somewhat dispairing. After some research into holistic methods, I decided to try RSO to heal all aspects of my body without the harmful side effects of typical modern medicine. While I did get six treatments of intravenous iron, I believe that my health was recovered from the powerful antiInflammitory properties of the cannabis oil. Not only did the oil bring down inflammation, which is the underlying issue, but it purged toxins and infections, allowing my body to heal itself. While I was in somewhat of a fog for several weeks, I was able to revisit the art of observation. I did a lot of watching, listening; I didn’t speak much and I experimented with the relationship between my emotions and my body. I cannot say enough about this miraculous plant oil. I even mixed it with jojoba and coconut oil and slathered it on my parched skin from scalp to soles, softening scars and stretchmarks on my hardworking body. This body that protects my warrior soul from the elements and facilitates the creation of life and experience of passion and sensuous living.
Second, I was incredibly real with myself about what I needed. I know myself pretty well after four decades and I often excuse away what I need or desire for the purposes of keeping the peace or maybe more accurately, fear or the drama that would follow if I were to take care of myself above the demands of those around me. This is a ridiculous way to live. To acknowledge ones own needs is a real and important stage in healing and growing. Letting go of the strong pull of pleasing others to live out what is ones individual journey becomes a catalyst to the healing of the psyche and the body. When you are faced with the possibility of loosing your security or your loved ones, and you choose to do what is right for you, you are loving yourself in a way that will allow others to love you in the same way. If life is for experiencing, what is it that we want to experience? I had to examine whether I was being a coward or a creator. Was I hiding behind the guise of responsibility or worse, playing the role of martyr in the epic tale of goddess maiden becomes mother but denies the crone?
I shook off the cowardly excuses and wiped away the shoulds and oughts and I began to feel again. Feel my emotions in my body and validate them for what they are. A road map towards health, wellbeing. My body as a sanctuary for passion and life, not a vessel purely to get the “job” done while here on our earthly adventure. I began making choices for my life, instead of allowing life to determine or dictate those choices for me. I recognized myself as the creator of my home, my experience and my future. The star studded sky opened up for me as though I was the conductor of an orchestra, and I continued down an unknown path with confidence and trust in the ground under my bare feet.
And third, boundaries. The word makes me tense and uncomfortable but it is truly a test of ones strength and respect; for oneself and others. Often I didn’t check in with myself honestly enough to know if I was comfortable with something or not. I have difficulty making decisions and generally weigh out the effects on all people and circumstances before even considering what I want. I didn’t have time for that nonsense anymore. If I had months to live, I was going to live the life I wanted to live. I wasn’t going to put up with disrespect or irrational behavior. Cold, bone aching wind was not going to wake me each morning, and loud, guilt laden conversations were not going to consume my days. I was not going to allow anger to greet me unmerited and I was not going to lay my head on a pillow of frustration each night and trudge through my dreamtime in agony, waiting for the spirit to lift me off this plane. No. I was going to find my peace, revel in my uniqueness, wear crystals around my neck and feel the warm sun on my face. I wanted to feel the sand under my calloused feet and shield my eyes from the glittering reflection of the magnificent sun, perhaps lay naked under the full moon without developing pneumonia. Yes, I was going to choose to live, and I wasn’t going to allow anyone else to write my story for me. My children, my husband, my friends and acquaintances; they would not influence me with guilt or expectation. I would have to take responsibility for my boundarylessness and my tendencies to lay down in the dirt when the forks in the road presented a choice to be made. I would forge my own path, journey towards what makes my heart swell and my spirit sing. My body would be my compass, and my emotions would be honored as the signposts that they are. Boundaries. I would fall in love with myself again as I remembered who I was.
And so it is. Several months have passed and I am living as my authentic self, a woman strong and determined. I am creating a life that allows me to be wholly me, holy me. And I am well.