Colors speak in ways words sometimes can’t. And I think different colors mean different things for people based on their unique experiences. One of my favorite things when getting to know someone is asking them what their favorite color is…and why. It might seem like such a 3^rd grade thing but I love thinking and feeling in color. 

If I could pick a color that describes my day today it would be “grapefruit.” The yellow and pink together, blending in the perfect, complimentary way. The brightness of the yellow for the joy in passing my big test. The vibrant pink of possibility for what lies ahead and how I am one step closer in my journey to Survivorship Coaching, my credential of Board Certified Coach closer than ever.

I was praying a prayer of gratitude on my way home from my exam…for the timing of registering, for the capacity for studying and retaining information, for the affirmation that this is so my own heartbeat, for the purpose in the pain of my own cancer and survivorship and for the amazing lesson of “simply show up.” 

I’m not writing a story too far out in front, I don’t yet know what my next best step is, but I feel secure in knowing that I’ll know what I need to know when I need to know it. Tonight, I’ll simply show up in my grapefruit colored gratitude.

*Post 1042

Chippy :: 2/6/18 : Post 158

I find myself in a chippy kind of place. I’m low on patience. I get frustrated easily. I am snappy. 

I think I’m struggling because I feel I should feel better than I do. Cuz, you know, the “bad” chemo is done…..

It’s fascinating that I “forget” where I am in this journey and think I should be better already all the while knowing and acknowledging that I have so much left ahead. 

Or maybe it’s that I feel every bit of the exhaustion of what’s transpired and think I have earned feeling better and yet I don’t really feel all better and feel overwhelmed by what I have left. 

It’s a stuck feeling. And it’s daunting. And I don’t want what’s ahead. And I wish it to be over….in it’s entirety. 

But that’s not how it works. 

Nope. 

So, we press on. And trust that it won’t always feel this way.

Snow :: 2/6/19 :: Post 512

I LOVE the snow. 

I took a walk at lunchtime in the heaviest part of the storm and it filled my soul (and the hood of my jacket. HA!).

I love the quiet that the snow brings. The blanket of white that clings to anything it touches. The sparkles of snowflakes in the light. 

….the s l o w d o w n.

I’ve spent so much time throughout cancer valuing the quiet. Feeling deeply. Trusting the work that is done in contemplation. Slowing down to experience the moment instead of rushing to get out of it. 

I’m grateful I’m choosing to walk it this way. I’m grateful for the transformation. For the permanent change that I’ve embraced. As dreadfully hard as it is….

(No Post for 2/6/20)