Sunday, October 30, 2011

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

November 18th will be my brain tumor party. The day I get anesthetized, brain tumor removed and titanium snowflakes in the end. So, that's that. I argued for an earlier date, but in the end found myself begging for the doctor to confirm, at least, November 18th, so that I could plan my life. Then while I was waiting and waiting, it occurred to me that part of my control freakishness is an addiction to feeling I can plan the if...and the reason I know this is an addiction is that when they finally called and said that this would be the date and gave me enough information to make me feel like it was real, I felt the serotonin wash through my system. I felt relieved, and it wasn't even what I really wanted.

What is it with us that we are so concerned with what we're going to do tomorrow? What is it with the calendars and clocks and alarms and blocked out meetings and pick-up times for the carpools? I'm reminded of the lyrics from a favorite Chicago song, "Does anyone really know what time it is/Does anybody really care?" Oh, yes, we care. Let me correct that, I care. So, now I have three weeks that I can plan to the enth degree and busily I set about doing just that in my brain first and then on the calendar. Then I hit the wall.

After three weeks, I have a vague idea of the first three to five days of what will happen, and after that...phew...I have no clue. It all depends. It depends on how well the surgery goes. It depends on how my brain reacts to not having this gray egg pushing at it. It depends on the closure. It depends on whether there is any tumor left in the cavity. It depends on technology and the talents of the busy surgeon. It depends on things I seem not to have control of...

So that immediately informs me...what can I have control of? Har. I can control my attitude maybe, but my emotions are having their way with me. I was confident four weeks ago when this thing was discovered that it would be removed and all would be well, but all this time has passed giving me far too much time to contemplate less favorable results, and to be honest, that really is not where I need to go with my contemplation. Then I happen to watch movies where people die, or are chronically ill because there suddenly seem to be a plethora of those stories, and it becomes really scary. Then it becomes obvious. I have to spend the next three weeks cut off from media and well-intended conversations that emphasize the tragedy of finding out one is not perfectly healthy. In fact, I must do everything in my power not to write negatively about this brain thing.

What I'm conscious of is that when I had my miscarriage and lost my womb, I was immediately willing to go into the depths of my sadness about it. It feels like that was harder. It feels like this experience is more technological and mechanical and that it will turn out fine. Then it doesn't. Then it feels like this long delay must be the Universe asking me to take the time to say good-bye to life as I know it. Why else? I mean it's the night before Halloween and that's the scariest thing I can think of having to go through, and here I am going through it. Boo. How do I climb out of that?

My theory is that the only way past these feelings is through them. Coincidentally, I'm working to finish up a project I started in August. I'm writing a poem for each Tarot card in my own Kosmic Egg Tarot Project. It felt like I needed to complete something, and this was accessible. So, I'm writing the last fifteen poems this week. I've been writing the Minor Arcana suit poems, four a day (nearly) for a couple of weeks, and likely I will need to edit them quite a bit, but I'm happy with my "Nines" and wanted to share one them in this post because I feel like it partially encapsulates exactly where I am with my life right now.

To increase your understanding of the system of Tarot, let me just say that the "Nines" specifically represent the "realization" of each suit, sort of the best and worst of it as a big "aha". The Minor Arcana represent, for me, habits and are thus very mutable, and each suit represents a sort of path that we may be on for a period of time...material, emotional, mental and spiritual...textiles, vessels, tools and light. I will post the other "Nine" poems in separate posts...Here is the first:

Nine of Textiles

Those moments of self-realization create
Sustainability through the expertise I
Bring to the fabric of life. There was a
Time when I could not have survived
The challenges of this moment, but now
I am wrapped in warmth that I sewed
Myself and I can enjoy these conditions
That others would find a challenge.
The Aurora Borealis provides the
Unfathomable vision and my wolf is now a
Faithful companion, who assists my
Daily work to thrive, no matter what the
Appearances and circumstances are
Because I know I can adapt to change.

copyright (c) 2011 Amanda Morris Johnson

1 comment:

Kevin Weller said...

"My theory is that the only way past these feelings is through them." Rings true to me! Best of luck to you...