43 holes and counting

IMG_2143Two more holes today…One short term and one until the end of this chapter. That makes at least 43 holes I am aware of since July 16. None of them piercings, none of them adorn me. Quite the opposite actually as I look in the mirror at my body. Yoga enabled me to know and to love my body and myself. And now I must begin to relearn how to do that, at least temporarily, with these new markings. Hospital tape, bandages, sore spots, painful areas, scars, staples, holes, bruises, tubes, bumps.

Part of me doesn’t want to learn to love it at all or get used to this body at all. Because that would be acceptance. In those moments, I hate this all so much.

But YOU who hold me and support Steve and I, who send rays of sunshine and rainbows through each cloud, who tend our fires and your own fires, who never leave my side, who sing a new song, who blossom a new color; it’s you who write me love notes and draw me pictures; YOU remind me that no matter how many holes are poked in me- I AM so WHOLE. Beyond whole. Full to the brim and sparking new fires. A complete circle.

For this, I am grateful beyond which I knew I had the capacity to be.

Pigs like mushrooms?

Today my sweet loving Steve held my hand while I cautiously walked into the lake for my first time since surgery. And then he held me in his arms so I could float with ease (my core muscles are still healing from surgery). Sitting by the fresh, moving waters, the sun nourishes our skin and warms our soul.

Arriving home from the afternoon, I settle-down to rest and begin what seems to be a new favorite ritual- reading cards. Each one a special treat, a piece of personality from the sender shining through, bringing light to our home and lives. I shed a few tears because of the thoughtful and caring words. I laugh at the story from an old friend- who’s handwriting hasn’t changed since high school. I melt at the words of a famous poet, now shared upon me. I never want the pile of envelopes to end. But I rest, as tomorrow is another day, and it’s not a postal holiday or Sunday.

This one is simply too good to not share:

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Land of Life

So excited and thankful to be going home with my dearest, strongest husband Steve and family. We made it thru the first major surgery with mostly strength and grace.

The beauty of the landscape brings tears.

And I’m scared shitless of the roller coaster we are about to embark on. No matter how many people are on this ride with us, it feels strong yet so shaky and unknown.

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