MAINTAINING ZEN DURING RIOTS AND QUARANTINE—AND CANCER

I just thanked a friend for suggesting I watch Nigerian author, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, on uTube, who spoke with eloquence about premature judgments (which in our defense, our brains are preprogrammed to make).

Each time we’re reminded that every person’s life is composed of many stories, most of which contribute to an individual’s personal growth, we offer humility another opportunity to transform antagonists or acquaintances into mutually respectful friends.  It’s classic.

As our sons suggest that humidity and heat are soaring in Southern California, hopefully their discomfort while quarantining will be short lived, freeing families to hike and bike.  With no hope for balmy days in our desert community till mid October, anything under 105 sounds good to me.  Each time Steven and Ravi enjoy a playdate on our patio with Gramma and Papa sequestered behind our Arcadia door, they, wearing bathing suits, take playful dips in our spa to cool off—no need for towels as they air dry in less than sixty seconds flat.

I’m hoping that after three more infusions of chemo, followed by four weeks of healing, my surgery in Houston will be scheduled sometime in early August.  As of recent weeks, we’ve been in contact with the cardiac and thoracic surgeons, making the reality of this serious surgery rise before me in 3D ...  so, I remind myself to focus on one-day-at-a-time while relaxing into the thought that once in Houston, all I need do is to lie quietly on the operating table, place my faith in my surgeons’s expertise, count to ten and fall asleep, knowing that my task, on that particular day, is far easier to carry out than theirs. Or Will’s.  Or our sons’, being that pacing while waiting for good news feels interminable. 

As to the riots and my compassion for everyone’s fury at lack of proactive protective leadership, my angst concerning inequality and injustice is vented by penning posts here and on Facebook followed by consciously separating myself from any news reports in hopes of maintaining—no, that’s the wrong wording—regaining the zen mental state that I feel need to recreate, every day, to keep my sense of sanity peaceful, knowing that juggling quarantining, chemo fatigue and injustice offer my active brain too much time to wander ever more deeply into the realm of suppressed frustration concerning personal, national and global problems, which remain unresolved.  I choose to regain my connection to inner calmness, day after day, by mindfully redirecting my focus toward counting my blessings which, to my good fortune, number many—such as Will’s untiring attentiveness, our sons’ devotion, our munchkins’ antics, and family and friends, whose love keep my mind actively engaged by remaining in touch, pretty much daily.

And being that laughter is the best medicine, here’s a bit of levity to buoy your spirit and mine, today
(Marshmallows are much less messy than grapes, which, when squished, shoot juice on the loose)

Stay well and proactive, dear friends, wherever you are ...

🙋🏻‍♀️🌈🌻Annie