3.8.12 will be a full moon. A solar storm is headed toward Earth supposedly and I hope to see some amazing northern lights I've never seen. Nope. Didn't see'em.
The full moon births a cycle from which to fill, release, then rest.
I have never had to wait for a biopsy before and its driving me a bit crazy. It should be just like anything else. I think cancer is a scary thing that I don't ever want to experience. There is so much to see and do that I do NOT want to miss a beat.
I have a fibroid that is the size of a tangerine, a uterus that is the size of a grapefruit. I love the way we measure ourselves by fruit. Fruit represents nourishment and life. Our womb represents the creation.
Aside from politicians fighting over our fruits, are we intended to choose a different route? Does creation really mean creating human beings? Can we choose to direct our energies to artistic forms instead? 40 years ago it was unheard of...you HAD TO HAVE kids. And even now, I am socially considered "childless" as I have CHOSEN to not have them. And the more time goes by, the more I run into inspiring creative women who have also chosen a different, less traveled path. There are a ton of books on parenting, mothering, childrearing...to live out a life independent of these things means that most of the time the path is unclear, dense shades of gray followed by clear warm bright moments of sun. I am thankful in some ways that whatever I am going through is providing a point of inspiration from which to voice these words.
3.14.2012 Whoosh. Thankfully the endo biopsy came back negative. Negative is always a good word when it comes to cancer or pregnancy as I told a friend. The Doc is still suspicious so she's doing a good job and fear still infuses.
Deciding to remove my uterus is still a tough choice. Should I change myself to fufill someone else's dream instead of my own? How many times a day in our world does this occur? It seems as if our uterus has become a dumping ground for either epoxy resins & BPAs or a stage to live out someone else's dreams or mandates. And internally we as women become suseptible to not listening to our creative voice and living out the life "someone else" wants for us.
I was born January 18, 1973...four days before the Roe vs. Wade decision, in a time where everyone's eyes were focused and filtered in on a woman's body. Meanwhile, my Mom was getting her wish come true...to have me after having several miscarriages. My Mom's art is children...with every atom in her soul, she has an undying passion for kids. This is when the sensitive part of me emerges. I know how much she has done for me in my life...rescueing me from the depths of asthmatic wheezes. And to think I am deciding to make my life easier by removing my "kid house", part of me thinks I am evil for not giving back to her what she gave to me. I am a bad self-involved wife for not giving my loving husband a *potential* *planned* way to live out his life. I should go to hell for making my life easier and not harder. And those times I took the RU486 pill, I am damned.
What I am not damned for, I am a saint. For supporting my Mom through her own hells and hard times in her life. For listening to her when no one else cared. For playing tough love on my husband to inspire him to find his own healthy talents...pushing him when no one else did. I ditched my safe & secure Microsoft job to free myself and not be a "should have" angry bitter person.
My Creative Hummmmm continues. It will be me that gets injected with sleep serum and hopefully wakes up to the words "It was not cancer. you are going to be ok" Gotta go make...not babies. Art. Things happen.
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