This, too, shall pass

Thank you for your prayers and concerns about the bleeding I was having. Since I’ve gone through both menopause and a hysterectomy, I thought there would be no more of that. Perhaps the name of the game is, “Assume Nothing.”

I called my doctor, fearing that he would insist that I jump back into chemo. Instead, he recommended a watch and wait approach, and I felt comfortable with that. Well, as comfortable as I could be. The worry persisted, but chemo wouldn’t help that anyway.

I went to tong ren, and the bleeding stopped.

In the meantime, life continues. My day consists of tasks that simply…take time…and in my focus to complete them, I frequently hear myself saying, “in a minute” to the kids.

For example, I might be online booking summer camps and one of the boys will say, “Mom, look at this!” I don’t want to stop, lose my place, look at that, and then have to re-oreint myself to wherever I was in the registration process.

So I say, “In a minute.” Of course, by the time I am ready to look, the moment is over. I’ve missed it, and then spiral into fear that they will stop inviting me to share in their discoveries.

Since change comes slowly to me, I decided to start by observing where I put my energy and what I put off, to learn what I am prioritizing every day.

One morning, I dropped the boys off at school then stayed to watch one of them play basketball with his friends. It felt idyllic. The boisterous boys dribbled and shot on the asphalt against a backdrop of blooming trees.

Wouldn’t it be nice to take a picture so someday the boys could get a glimpse of their kindergarten mornings?

May 2013

This photo does not show the morning light as it streamed through the trees. Consistent with my “in a minute” approach, I didn’t take the photo that morning at  basketball time. Instead, I thought I would do it another day.

I went home, got busy and then panicked. Would the flowers be there when I got around to taking the picture? What if it rained and the rain knocked them off the branches? This was the moment. It was now.

Maybe the name of the game isn’t “Assume Nothing.”

Considering the moments of worry and the moments of joy, perhaps the name of the game is, “This too shall pass” so I can feel safe in immersing myself in whatever happens to be right now.