The cool morning breeze embraced us as we walked the canyon’s hills and valleys this morning. As I contemplated my upcoming chemotherapy, beginning August 5th, administered every 3 weeks and lasting for 6 cycles if I can tolerate it, followed by 6 weeks of daily radiation, I wonder what will I experience? What will the “malaise” they describe as the worse flu you ever had, really be like for me?
In my walking meditation I imagined swimming with dolphins, playing with them, rolling over their backs in all directions. I breathed in the clear water to clear my body of whatever needed to be cleared out. I hope I can keep this strong optimism when I feel weak and depleted.
Fortunately, I do know there is a place where ALL IS WELL and I intend to dwell there throughout the process of chemotherapy and radiation. What new dimensions of being will I discover?
Thank all of you for your continued and loving support. Thanks, my dear husband, Stu, for accompanying me today on my walk and in my musings.
HAVE you got a brook in your little heart,
Where bashful flowers blow,
And blushing birds go down to drink,
And shadows tremble so?
And nobody, knows, so still it flows,
That any brook is there;
And yet your little draught of life
Is daily drunken there.
Then look out for the little brook in March,
When the rivers overflow,
And the snows come hurrying from the hills,
And the bridges often go.
And later, in August it may be,
When the meadows parching lie,
Beware, lest this little brook of life
Some burning noon go dry!