It’s a new month and that means new daily writing prompts! I liked the ones that I had for January and I’ll probably use them again during some upcoming month, but I want to switch things up for February. With a bit of randomness and these 7 themes, I’m looking forward to how these next 28 days will be written into my story…one day at a time: Both+And, Living Changed, Word’s Matter, My Whole Person, Impactful Interactions, Today’s Color and Quotable Quotes. Maybe consider joining me?

Ok, so with context built…it’s February 1. 2/1/21. Oh how pretty that date is all symmetrical and stuff. The theme for today is the Both+And.

It’s such a strange feeling to feel both stuck in the sludge of ‘blah’ and propelled into the next step of what’s becoming. Today I registered to take my Board Certified Coach Exam because I was recently notified by the Center for Credentialing and Education that I am approved to take it. I’m super excited about the possibilities of Survivorship Coaching that lie just beyond passing this exam and yet I feel somewhat cautious because, well, this is a little déjà vu. The ‘go all in while not knowing the outcome’ is a place I’m quite familiar with…one that has been both wonderful and tragic over the course of my life. Today, I faced a decision. 

With both caution and courage…………. I’m goin ‘all in.’ And by Saturday night, I’ll know better my next steps for The Purposed Sailor, Survivorship Coaching. 

*Post 1037

February 1 :: 2/1/18 :: Post 154

Energized but exhausted. 

I had a very good February 1st. I’ve been saying all along “get me to February” and it was every bit true. I felt good. Had good energy. Work was hard but I had what I needed to get through the day. Had just enough left to help get a kid to sports. 

And this morning’s routine was almost *almost normal. Chris texted me and said it was good to see that. And I cried. Because it felt good to feel good. 

I think the worst is behind me. And while I have a crap ton of hard stuff ahead still, I am grateful to be one day closer. 

I’m utterly exhausted for what I’ve endured and for what I still must endure. But by God’s grace and protection I am also energized for what lies ahead. 

Let’s do this February.

A Moment :: 2/1/19 :: Post 507

I had a moment today where I sat down and could feel this awful week crash into me. I felt this wave of ick…I was foggy and drained…it was like I felt depleted of everything – my energy, my resolve, my ability to think, my soul…. it was so odd. 

And then tears ran down my cheeks. Tears representing all of the thoughts and feelings that I was unable to use words to describe…

I felt empty. Like my outsides were present but my insides were not. (And I feel like that now, too.)

And then after work I met up with a woman who was just diagnosed with my “same” cancer and who has my “same” treatment regimen. Upon diagnosis, she asked to talk to someone who could help her by sharing their experiences…and the nurses thought of me. So after giving them permission to give her my number, we set up a time to meet. She is beautiful. And wonderful. And wanted to hear my story. 

It was interesting describing my cancer experiences from start to now…going back to details I haven’t thought of in awhile…picking out the details that would matter to her as she prepares to dive into treatment…It was hard. It was also good to connect with her and her story. 

What a week. 

The Body and Mind Remember :: 2/1/20 :: Post 846

The traumas I have endured are unimaginable: sexual traumas, a dreadful car accident and the trauma of cancer are big hitters, no doubt. The innocence lost and the exposure and violation of rape are brutally hard to accept. A semi ripping through my car, violating my sense of security, is the harsh proof of a true lack of control. The vulnerabilities, nakedness, hands all over, scalpels cutting through skin and muscle and tissue, breasts being wheeled away on a tray as I lay on the table with holes left behind, a surgeon rearranging my left-over body to create body parts taken away, a catheter directly threaded into my jugular to make way for poison to drip into my blood destroying healthy cells at the same time of killing the bad ones, invisible radiation penetrating my body intended for good yet visibly leaving behind bad, the constancy of inflammation and rheumatoid pain, the looming of the cancer monster, the mistrust, the identity crisis, the redefinition of everything…cancer has violated my body and soul in a totally different dimension, but a violation all the same. 

That’s the thing about trauma. It violates. It destroys. It steals. And just like grief, it doesn’t have an end. Instead, it is a forever companion.

Throughout treatment, there is always a ‘next’ thing, a goal, a directive – go here, get this, do that. Now, though, that doesn’t really exist anymore. I think that is why I struggle so much with the word, ‘survivor’ – it insinuates a ‘completion,’ a ‘been there done that,’ a ‘move on.’ But trauma isn’t something ‘survived,’ it’s something that literally re-wires the brain and the body can’t help but remember – physiologically, emotionally, somatically; it makes everyday things difficult. Looking in the mirror, naked before a shower – the body and mind remember. Being touched – the body and mind remember. Smelling alcohol – the body and mind remember. Putting on tight pants – the body and mind remember. Hearing talk radio – the body and mind remember. Exiting I-70 at Kipling — the body and mind remember. Getting on an elevator – the body and mind remember. Going into a hair salon – the body and mind remember. Eating an avocado – the body and mind remember. Sitting in bed with a computer to write – the body and mind remember. These are the things that are known, that can be somewhat predicted; but if that isn’t hard enough, there are also things that set off a trauma-response without any warning because the reality of trauma is that sometimes the body and mind remember something that the person doesn’t.

As I try and figure out this next post-treatment phase, I’m finding that the traumas are amplified and I am forced to learn how to integrate this companion into my every day while having to fight the mainstream (but totally impossible) ‘just move on’ expectation – and it’s hard. How do I do this? What does it look like? How do I remain authentic and live the story of forever-changed when people expect ‘all better’ and when I don’t even believe in ‘move on’? 

Well……I talk about it. I process. I acknowledge the gratitude. I recognize the devastation. And I don’t allow the pressure of ‘move on’ to cloud the power of continued transformation even if that means I’m choosing the harder road.