There are moments in life that calls us to press the pause button. To sit down, to breathe, to take a good look in the mirror and ask Some Questions while at it.
Who do you see there? Are you comfortable with what you see? If the finish line is as close as it looks, was your life what you really wanted it to be? Are YOU what you wanted yourself to be?
It’s the Pink Month.
I thought I won’t talk about this, but then I thought it’d be ridiculous not to, especially because my story even has a happy ending – for now.
It’s just that the subject is so much talked about and then not nearly enough that I feel hesitant and urged to talk about it at the same time. But here it goes. (And you know me; I usually need a lot of words, so... Courage, dear heart, this, too, shall pass.)
I am one of those tediously conscientious people who examine their breasts every single month – and has done so for the past twenty plus years. Every. Single. Month. I owe it to myself.
A while ago I noticed everything wasn’t all right. I tried to explain it away and believe me, I am VERY GOOD at explaining things away to myself. I have all kinds of disabilities and chronic illnesses, so I’d spend my entire life in hospital waiting rooms if I didn’t master the voice of reason self-diagnosis thingy.
But this one I couldn’t explain in any way, so I called to the local health center and asked if this is something that should be checked.
Yes, they said, immediately.
Those of you who know me from a way back, might remember I don’t have what you’d call a warm and trusting relationship with Finnish health care system. No. It’s a concept I avoid at all costs. It took all my courage to call them and then, heaven forbid, to STEP INSIDE the walls of their kingdom.
However, for once I have only good things to say about the public health care system. The waiting times were so short they could not possibly have been any shorter, and everyone was so kind, so gentle, so… human.
And in the end, all was well. For now. But I was repeatedly told how important it was to come and check it, as it could have easily been something serious.
I have had my share of those pause moments in life. Because of them, I have learnt quite a lot about myself and about life and its fragility, so this experience was not as earthshaking as it could have been.
Still, during the past few weeks I felt my whole life was in a pause mode. Like the earth itself had tilted a bit. Nothing you could see outside, but like the whole universe had slightly cracked and left me fractioned.
I had time to think. A LOT. (And this comes from a person who may or may not have couple of universe’s worth of thoughts circling in her head 24/7.)
I thought about acceptance, mostly (also, about rocks, minerals, and molecules, because sometimes it is better to concentrate on Important Things instead of Serious Things), and I realized I am quite blessed. There is no other word for it.
I am where I want to be, I am who I want to be. Also, I hope and think I might be where and who I need to be. And that, my friends, is rather beautiful.
I have no desire to be ten years younger. I am who I am because I have my years’ worth of love, laughter, pain, and tears molding me.
I don’t need to be prettier, thinner; I am who I am just as I am and I love myself for it, with all the scars and bumpy, wobbly bits. And although it’s not been as easy to accept as my wobbly bits, I don’t need a glorious career to make me complete. I had quite a career on the making once, but life and brain injury happened, and I am a different person because of it all. It wasn’t easy, to accept it, but once I did, I got so much more I could have never, ever have hoped or dreamed, not in this life. So, yes, I am who I am, because all of this, and I feel incredibly, overwhelmingly blessed. (If that makes sense, which it does to anyone having similar experience.)
I also thought about how I have the most wonderful family; husband and children, I have a beautiful home, a lovely garden, and of course, Mr. Hemingway the cat. About how I am privileged enough to be able to have spent the whole summer collecting herbs, learning more about nature and its miracles and magic, about rocks, minerals, and gemstones, about all things visible and all things beyond.
How, if my life was about to end, it has been a good one. One filled with love, with warmth, with blessings.
But it does not erase the fact that this, too, was a rough, raw, shaking experience, and I feel just as rough, raw, and shaking, and will feel, for quite some time. But it is ok. Those feelings are there for a reason. And I have the gentlest healer Mr. Hemingway right next to me purring and licking my inner wounds, a husband who takes my hand and guides me through any kind of storms, children who hugs my invisible pain away, friends to talk everything through and more, God who is there, holding us all, with our fractures and wobbles.
Which brings me to the photo of my art journal page. During these weeks I also listened to music all the time, especially this all time favourite song of mine, Even If, by MercyMe.
"...But God, when You choose
To leave mountains unmovable
Oh give me the strength to be able to sing
It is well with my soul
I know You're able and I know You can
Save through the fire with Your mighty hand
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone
I know the sorrow, and I know the hurt
Would all go away if You'd just say the word
But even if You don't
My hope is You alone"
Even if.
