yesterday i wanted it all to go away; the bleeding, the scars, the vomiting, the spector of my own mortality, my craving for love,my revulsion at my own circumstance.
practice seemed devoid of usefulness.
yesterday i wanted to end, to escape into anything but my life, to disassociate myself from sterility, physical weekness, longing, fragility.
i was consumed by a sense of failure, as if i was not equal to my life, these circumstances, to the aspirations of my heart, as if i had nothing left to give.
eventually i dragged myself out of bed and did the dishes.
this morning i made food for a pot luck, and attended class.
still, i didn't want anyone to see how much cancer has changed me, but slowly gently, the fufillment of being with others, the big favour of being able to assist another in some small way restored me to this fundamental understanding: the only thing that has ever given me a sense of meaning, of satisfaction, the only thing that has ever given me a sense of belonging, of my own sacredness of the sacredness of others has been the oportunity to do for others, to contribute. cancer hasn't changed that.
sometimes contribution is achieved simply by standing still in light of another, and allowing them to see everything that is to be seen.
i pray for bravery, i pray for trust, i pray for openess, i pray for love.