navigating

 

i keep picturing a bridge,

long and rustic, missing planks.

you know the type?

i imagine it sways a little, and is surrounded by deep forest.

there is probably a raging river underneath.

west coast walking bridge

 crossings are often wet and slippery.

and i never seem to have the right shoes.

 

 it is the bridge between illness and remission

and it is hard to navigate.

i made the naive, optimistic assumption

 while i was so ill that i would leap 

magnificently into remission when it arrived

and well, that has not been the case.

but remission is here. and i take each day it gives me

thankful and somewhat stunned

 as i eat a sandwich, 

or pop a piece of fruit into my mouth.

and i carry on with minimal pain,

 renewed energy and padding on my bones.

{i can eat most anything!}

the challenge of navigating the transition has been very hard.

{does that sound like i am resisting remission?}

i am not.

it is just  this complex mixture of gratitude and grief.

saying goodbye to one life, making room for a new one,

one that looks oh so different than i imagined. 

even in remission there is care to be taken,

side effects to navigate, expectations of myself that need to be considered.

i need to stay in this place of wellness

and that will only happen if i learn to be a gentle caretaker of myself.

{this lesson of care continues to be hard for me, even now, even after all of that learning}

i keep losing my footing in the gaps that are still present

the gaps of self care, 

the gaps of "too much" 

the gaps of false expectations

and i find myself stumbling forward, clinging, crawling,

 willing myself across.

"go all the way" 

i whisper to myself in the toughest spots.

 "it is bright over there"

the pace is frustratingly slow 

and i am having to be mighty, mighty patient with myself.

i am here. 

tentative and slightly bruised for completely different reasons

but the words are returning to me.

17 pages in 4 days have dumped themselves into my journal,

scrambling over one another to find their spot.

i go back, after i have written, trying to make sense of it,

circling, underlining, adding in with new colour.

i am grateful.

for the gift of bread breaking and the spilling of words.

oh so grateful.