“Why be afraid, if I’m not alone/ each and every moment, the rest is unknown.”
When there were changes in our family, my oldest child insisted on sleeping with the lights on. Though we have sophisticated security system (and a tiger mom who knows karate!), she felt unsafe.
“It’s too dark,” she said. “I feel safer in the light.”
Though I tried to soothe her fears, rationalize them away with facts, figures and statistics, and even help her appeal to a higher power, she still felt afraid.
And, I can’t blame her.
Sometimes, even when we’ve spent most of our time navigating light and dark, we just need permission to be scared. To feel unsafe. To turn on the light. No matter how silly it seems.
I’ve spent most of my life — at least the past 10 years — in the boxing ring with cancer. A few times, it managed to get a few blows, cut a few scars, and made me shake my head to come back to consciousness.
But today, for lots of reasons, I’m laying on the mat. Listening to the count. Knowing I’m going to get up. Eventually. When I have the energy to do it.
Soon enough,, I’ll put my hands back up, swish my feet back and forth, and jab, bob, and weave like a champ. And, in my dream world, I’ll have a banging 6-pack of abs rippling with every twist and turn….
This past week, while at a consultation to reduce the raised scars from my bilateral mastectomy, the dermatologist noticed a mole on my breast — my breasts without nipples, without tissue, without any sensation. My breast that resembles more like a football than a body part. My breast that I removed to reduce my risk of cancer.
Though I am not wallowing in “what might be”, I am not ashamed to admit that I am afraid.
Today, all I want to do is keep the lights on. Just for a little while. And see if the fears go away.
Peace, love, and letting myself just be afraid, (click on the link to hear me sing…)