My Dear Readers...

Julie - In my case it was cancer.  You’ve seen it before – in yourselves, loved ones, patients.  A crisis comes and explodes the center of a life.  It demands full attention.  It pulls a singular focus to itself.  Everything is reflected in its eyes.  It requires that every part of the life it invades change to accommodate it.  More, to mold to it.  Like a narcissistic parent, no move can be made without acquiescence to its possible reaction.

My world closed down, maybe more of an implosion than an explosion.  My small house, the couch, the comfy chair, three feet around the woodstove.  The oncology and surgical teams, the medicines.  My husband, my sister.  All the seasons of 6 Feet Under.  Other women undergoing the same thing.  The Internet.

The crisis drew in new energies.  The community of acquaintances who offered friendship, meals, shopping, prayers, books.  My need to discover the grace and confidence to accept these gifts.

Some pieces of life got pushed away by the power of the vortex.  Some things that were very important to me.  My horse.  Work.  Over time and insidiously, my relationships.  My newfound ease at accepting love and generosity became over-ridden by my old ingrained patterns of guilt, fairness, and independence.

I’ve finished now with cancer treatment.  And I stand now in a messy and changed place.  There are lots of pieces to pick up.  There are many question marks on many doors.  I am healing relationships with my family and friends.  I need to re-approach my work with the questions of “Am I on the right path?” “Where do I want to go?” And, almost most importantly, “How can I assure that I’ll have ongoing, affordable, comprehensive health insurance?”

So, my friends, at this moment I’ll be backing off a bit from this blog.  I’ll still be writing, but less consistently.  At least for a time.  This blog, this relationship with all of you, is one of the good things that cancer brought to me.  We’ll keep it going, redefined for now.