It is all good.
And I'm trying to avoid being a "newly-born again qigong-ist", continually spouting off how amazing qigong is, even though our practice is continuing to be a challenging, fun, wonderful, healing experience for me. Just a few words here, then I'll shut up about it for the rest of the day.
Michael in the qi field
Today, while doing an exercise, I raised my arms up at a 45-degree angle, and for the first time since my shoulder surgery in 2008, my joint didn't do its usual deep and disconcerting "CLUNK". Will it clunk again tomorrow? What does shoulder clunking (or lack thereof) have to do with cancer?
I don't know.
But this practice is doing more than healing a shoulder and, hopefully, healing a cancer diagnosis. It is a physical, spiritual, mental practice that Michael and I do together for at least two hours a day. That is a blessed gift. No matter where this cancer diagnosis takes us, we have these beautiful moments of growth and connection with each other right now.
As Kurt Vonnegut's uncle often declared, "If this isn't nice, I don't know what is!"
4 comments:
I'm not one of those people who believe "everything happens for a reason," but I do believe it's possible to turn a negative into a positive. If lymphoma has woken you up to appreciate what is truly important in life, and to make the most of the time you have left (hopefully a long time), then it has served a purpose.
Yep, Thomas, I think it is all what we make of it. I'm grateful that we've used lymphoma to awaken to more love. (And to learn to work with the fears that show up.)
That's such a nice photo of Michael! May love continue to be your guiding light.
Isn't he a sweetie??? Thank you, Foam!
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