Tuesday, November 29, 2016

What's the worst case scenario?

I was at a meditation class last month where we talked about fear.

Discussed the way fear can rule our life.
Create unhealthy habits.
Build anxiety.

Fear is one of those feelings that doesn't go away.
It lingers.

Wakes you up at night.
Follows you around all day

The voice of fear is loud.
It bullies you with its scary messages.

Often difficult to manage, fear has the ability to control us.

Our thoughts.
Our health.
Our body.

I have learned this year to notice when fear is present.

My body tenses up. Becomes achy.
My mind races.
I struggle to relax.

For my kids, fear presents itself with a strong need for extra hugs.
Cuddles at bedtime.
Tearful outbursts.

A question was posed, at meditation that night.
What's the worst case scenario?
If I dug to the greatest depth of the trance of fear, what is the worst possible outcome?

Truth is, I cried when I was honest with myself.
Brooklyn's death is my worst fear.
Seeing cancer take her from me is my greatest fear.
Every. single. day.

But wait.
The interesting thing about this exercise is that since I was honest with myself, I have felt less weighted in this fear. The truth helped me realize how much this fear was ruling my every thought and movement throughout the day.

I am now trying to meet this fear with love and courage.
Faith in God.
Radical acceptance.

It's damn hard.
But it's possible.

So, next time you feel fearful, ask yourself:
What is the worst case scenario?
Dig deep, keep asking 'so what' until you really get to the root cause.

You might be surprised how much relief you find in exploring the answer.


Tuesday, November 15, 2016

To be more peaceful

It's been some time since I wrote.
In many ways its been a purposeful move.

I have little to say.
Correction.
I have few positive feelings to speak about.

Truth is, this fall has been very hard on our family.
Brooklyn is experiencing symptoms similar to PTSD... generalized anxiety, fear of being alone or in the dark, exaggerated startle response, refusal to discuss her trauma and deeply negative emotions.

She recently expressed to me that she 'feels happy on the outside, but sad on the inside.'

At play therapy this week she worked with a sand seive, choosing to place 'heavy things' onto its plastic surface. Coffins, tombstones, fences, doors and houses were chosen over people, strollers, and other more happy items.

Its horrifying.
A six year old should not feel this way.

Should not literally freeze up and be unable to walk when asked to visit the doctor.
Should not scream and cry when someone knocks at the front door.
Should not be worrying about the cancer coming back.

But she is.
And we are struggling to manage.

Tonight, her big brother broke down in tears as he recounted how he feels like the last to receive love and help. Suggested two kids would be better because then he wouldn't have to wait for us to read to him at bedtime. He cried when I admitted his sister is very sad. That her fears are real and its ok for him to feel sad too.

That I feel sad too.

Truth is, we are struggling.
I am struggling so badly.
I can't even articulate my emotions.
But I am weak. Tired. Foggy again.

We are fighting the aftermath of cancer.
For me, it feels like waiting for it all to happen again.
For her to relapse.

Over the next four weeks Brooklyn will complete a plethora of tests including an EEG, ECHO and MRI to determine if she is having small seizures, if her lymph nodes have enlarged beyond 3cm, if her heart is causing her dizzy spells or the cancer has returned.

We are quietly fighting.
Still fighting.

And so we pray for strength and love.
And we ask for your patience.
We do not feel ourselves.

In the words of Brooklyn, when asked what emotion she'd like more of, we'd really like 'to be more peaceful.'
Here's hoping that Christmas brings just that.

<3 <3 <3

#TeamBrookie  #WarriorPrincess