My heart has blossomed open, leaving the core of the bloom exposed and tender to all nuances of life. Perhaps it’s the hormone medications that have fueled my emotional liberation; perhaps I no longer need to armor up. There is a clear border between life before and after cancer. My life before was a constant rush of ticking off boxes on my never-ending to-do list. I lived at full throttle speed where busyness equated to success, leading me to keep even those I love at a distance. Trauma was a distraction extinguished like a candle before it could burn.
I now look back from the perch of my unhurried way of life, where nothing more has to be acquired or achieved. My days unfold naturally, like a flower opening up to the sun. There is no forcing or pressing against it. This way of allowing life to come to me, rather than chasing it or repressing it, has been the greatest gift bestowed upon me by my greatest adversity. I am at ease with taking time, and I know when to stop and be still. I’m finding spaciousness in places I’ve missed before.
After my last ER episode, a beautiful new practice of praying the rosary came into my life to sustain me. Although I don’t adhere to any organized religion, I’ve always relied on the power of prayer and meditation to still my mind. However, lately, I’ve struggled to find solace in meditation. The many voices in my head seem to overpower the peace I seek. The sobering experience of my health deteriorating rapidly made having something tangible to hold onto more than just a metaphor.
Da encouraged me to watch Tammy Peterson’s interview, where she shared how she healed from terminal cancer through praying the rosary. Tammy’s testimony, attributing her daily prayers to curing her cancer, deeply inspired me. I retrieved an old rosary, a gift from my mama that lay dormant on my altar and searched for instructions on how to pray the rosary. While I was well-acquainted with the Lord’s Prayer, Hail Mary was less familiar to me, and the mysteries represented by the decades of the beads did not really resonate with me. I didn’t feel a connection to the wooden rosary with a bulky cross which inspired the idea to make my own.
I came across the perfect meaningful objects for the creation of my divine feminine rosary: a beautiful Guadalupe talisman from my mama, symbolizing grace, healing, and love, and a gold Scottish thistle passed down to me from my aunt. This thistle was given to her by my grandparents in 1965 when she left Scotland and immigrated to Canada. Additionally, I found a little cross from a beaded bracelet that my daughter begged me to buy but no longer satisfied her fashionable taste. It was important to me that the divine masculine was also represented in my special rosary, so I incorporated the cross that once belonged to my daughter, bringing her into my rose circle. I chose rosewood beads for the mother beads and yellow jade for the father beads, and thus my powerful tool for prayer, carrying the essence of my family’s love and connection, came to be.
The felt sense of spinning the beads between my fingers as I pray has amplified my faith. A personal mother prayer landed into my awareness, resonating with my request for her guidance. I was gifted the Aramaic translation of the Lord’s Prayer from a beloved, which opens my heart for the Father beads. Instead of the traditional dedication to the mysteries, what resonates with me is to dedicate the first decade to my personal heartfelt prayer. The second set of ten is for prayers of gratitude. The third is dedicated to those I want to pray for, the fourth for our ancestors, and the fifth, I return home to myself, Gaia, and welcome whatever may come up.
On low-energy days, I sit and bead rosaries, finding peace in creating meaningful tools of prayer. As I make them, someone always comes to mind to gift it- to whom I know will appreciate and use it. One day, while I was praying the rosary while walking in the forest, I received the message to show others how to make them. After all, there is power in crafting your own prayer tool! For the first time in ages, I felt like this was something I could offer without depleting my energy — to offer it in an easy, authentic way to those who feel called to join the circle.
My vision came to fruition as a circle of thirteen sisters gathered in my home. After months of winter isolation due to my health crisis, this was a welcome shift of energy with loving friends. Coming together in creative ceremony with others who yearned for heartful connection was incredibly meaningful and nourishing. We all shared a common desire to pray together and be in each other’s presence. Something magical is bubbling up to the surface with this recognition, and I feel its importance deeply. In these changing times, we need the support of each other and feel the sustainment of something much bigger.
In opening our rose circle, we are now connected to all through prayer. In a time where disconnect—the ailment of separation that can only lead to disharmony—the rose circle is one way for us to heal together. This is the gift I received from praying the rosary: the gift of knowing that we can come together and be held in a circle where we are all of the same.
LESSON: WE ARE ALL OF THE SAME
LESSONS FROM MY LUMP 