CHAOS TO LOVE

The process of biological changes manifests as loud, outer expressions, screaming for attention. It’s so easy to be swept away by these acute sensations and fall victim to them. When my focus latches on, it’s like a ravaged dog clamping onto a bone, unwilling to let go. Escaping the madness of what all this could mean requires a quantum shift in awareness.

Now, both breasts are mutating. For months, I’ve been witness to the gruesome disintegration of a mass that, depending on my mindset, can look like healing or like cells spiralling completely out of control. My awareness has evolved, revealing just how easily I can be whisked into victimhood and pulled into dark, unsettling territory. This new lump on my other breast is a different cancer—its subtle emergence allowed it to slip under the radar of my current treatment. It is not hormonally driven which means I’ll have to consider an alternate plan.

The use of my right arm now has limitations due to the swelling of trapped lymphatic fluid under my armpit. This breast has shrunk to half its size as the tumour corrodes. My right wing feels taut, wrapped tightly, like it’s encased in saran wrap. I’m quite certain there’s tearing in my tissue from all the stretching thats causing the edema. The open crevice reveals a dark abyss where there is a battle taking place. The other day, I pulled out a piece of rotted flesh the size of a loonie, and the sight of it made me woozy. Is this process of tissue dying off a form of healing, or am I slowly breaking down?

Yesterday, nearing the end of a peaceful forest walk, a distressed call from my daughter coincided with my dog getting into a vicious dogfight, instantly changing my state. Whirling around, I stepped onto a slippery rock, sending my phone and legs flying into the air. I broke my fall with my good arm and went into immediate shock. It felt as if the opening on my breast ripped wide open, while pain shot through my shoulder and wrist on the other side. The tranquil forest suddenly became a stage for my screams, echoing alongside the brutal sounds of the dogs fighting—a symphony of chaos amidst the silent trees that my daughter heard on the phone lying nearby.

The thing with chaos is that it can feel like the entirety of time, pulling us into its trap. The dogs stopped when my boy, Apollo, sensed I was in trouble. Somehow, he knew I was more important than the fight and came right to my side, whimpering and crying with concern. I lay there, terrified of the damage beneath my bandage, now with both arms compromised. All I could think was, ‘Are you fucking serious? More pain?’ My mind quickly spiralled into blame—the wrong shoes, the dog fight, the phone call—but I caught myself and changed my mind. That road will take me nowhere but down.

Becoming something of an avid traveler in my mindscape, I recognize the familiar downward spiral. Each descent reveals traps and my entire existence hinges on if I can step over the traps and respond to life in an affirmative way. Can I find peace amid so many frightening, moving pieces? No, not always and not right away. What I’ve noticed is that when I strip everything down to this very moment, I’m okay. Nothing is imminently ending. If I separate myself from the pain as an external experience, I can find pockets of respite simply by being here.

As I type, each press of a key reminds me of what’s wrong with me, but I counter it with, ‘Well, at least I’m writing, at least no bones are broken, my boob is still in one piece, I’m eating, and above all, I am so deeply loved by so many.’ What’s truly scary is not knowing what will happen. Grounding myself in what I do know is the only solid counteraction I can hold onto. As long as I anchor myself in love without clinging to it as something I might lose one day, I have the magic antidote to get me through the toughest of days.

I have been stripped down in a way that has allowed me to love myself by truly accepting love from others. Suffering is the sickness of feeling utterly alone. I’ve finally allowed love in. I feel the sparkle of all my relationships shining bright like a lantern, guiding my way forward. In this torn-up world of differences, love is the only medicine. It’s the glue that binds us to life, enduring through whatever is thrown at us and staying with us always.