Lockup: Raw

ah yes. the halfway point. six of twelve scheduled chemotherapy infusions have been completed and, as per the usual unwinding of my life, i find myself at times completely overwhelmed with fear of death and failure, and at times incandescently happy and forgetful of mortality. This post is to celebrate the ever-growing number of moments i am spending in the latter. 

Now that I have learned to manage the side effects of cancer, innumerable, as gracefully as possible (and to forgive myself when it is not possible to be graceful), my fear wanders to what happens next. What happens when the october scan comes back and there isn't any improvement? Or when my hair really does fall all the way out? Most of my time, however, is not spent wallowing, but rather spent in oblivious joy, pondering life and my place (certainly a vain exploit but one that provides endless entertainment for a curious mind).

The past few weeks since Fall has descended have been inexplicably rhythmic, the world has rotated a half-turn and suddenly everything marches in step. Words and ideas and people and films and the stories read aloud to me have entered the space within which I exist; once so solidly established (know thyself!), transformed so subtly by rhythm since the brutal summer's cacaphony. Nothing new on the outside save falling hair, but the inside churning, peacefully, if that is possible, to this new heartbeat. Imperceptible except to me and now to you, reader, as I confess it. To describe the change simply: I am feeling more and more blissful with every moment of uncertainty that passes. I have found a way to drill joy from a well of fear, knowledge from ignorance, and it is intoxicating. 

I am excited by life and what might happen, graceful or otherwise, knowing that fear, disappointment, relapse, impatience, frustration, are all part of it. Their presence, in unpredictable patterns interlaced with sweet and loving joy, makes the contrast rich and more meaningful. Makes life more meaningful. 

And so it goes...