Wowza. It's been such a jam-packed couple of weeks, I haven't had any time for a blogpost.
The Flammable Stanley Cup for Cancer project is going really well! So far, there are 78 names for the list. These folks are all cancer survivors who's names will be written on the paper mache cup. Then it'll be burned at the Burning Man festival.
In addition to only having 4 hours sleep for most of the week while pounding away at cup building & video editing, I was hella nervous. Greg was really great, knew how to interview well, and steered me in the right direction.
Sadly, within days of the post hitting the wire, my brother took a turn for the worse. A week later, he was diagnosed with leptomeningial enhancement in his thorassic spinal cord. After a second spinal tap, the determined course of treatment is to radiate his entire brain, and his thorassic spine, for the next 4-5 weeks. On average, people with this condition plus treatment live another 6 months. It could be longer though, but still...
So, I carry on. I have a project to do. Some days are better than others. The last 2 days I was in a fog, could barely focus on work, and had no energy. Partly it was from the massive tension release I had after a massage on Tuesday. Seems my body was trying to clench my troubles away.
It's so hard to accept what's happening. It's so hard to hold the myriad of emotions. Sometimes I'm happy, sad, grateful, & lonely all at the same moment. It's hard to describe.
I keep coming back to what a program friend said to me several weeks ago. "You're in transition, everything's going to be ok. You'll be alright." Something about her voice, that day, the topic, everything, just brought a huge sense of peace to me. When my emotions flare up, my fears, my deep lonliness, my desire for a shoulder to cry on & a cuddle, I remember that conversation.
Having my story told with such grace by the Puck Daddy crew, and experiencing the incredible response really opened my heart to love (especially self-love) & vulnerability, which is something I had struggled with my whole life. It was like I had been seen, finally. Much of my fear about manifesting in my life, taking up space & owning my right to be here, has been removed. Ideas about my next project, and the next after that sprouted in my head during the week of the diagnosis. I'm no longer afraid to put myself out there, even if I fail. This was one of the promises of the 12-step group I attend.
As a result, I asked two other bloggers to post about my story, and they graciously did. What's cool is they're also lady hockey fans!
As the grief ebbs & flows, the sadness tide nipping at my heels is put at bay, once again, by hockey. Never did I think a sport or sporting event such as the Chicago Blackhawks becoming Stanley Cup Champions would foster so much mental & emotional relief, but it has.