It is all how you frame it

3.10.13. A palindromic day

A skilled photographer can take a photograph of an alley you have walked past hundreds of times, and help you to see it in a new light.  A skilled choreographer can take a gesture from every day life, and place it in a context, which fills with nuance and meaning.  This is what artists do – they take their training, talent, and unrelenting perseverance and frame the materials in front of them in a way that illuminates the way for others to see and experience what they are seeing and experiencing. 

I am a dancer, a teacher, a choreographer, a writer, a sister, a wife, a mother, a friend and an artist down to my very core.  I also plan to add breast cancer survivor to that list of roles by which I self-identify.  

Last Thursday, I had a cup of tea with my friend, and departmental administrative assistant, Kelly, and she said she was surprised that I kept sending her work related e-mails.  She thought I would want to just check out on everything work related and just focus all my energy on dealing with my cancer.  I told her that work is an area where I feel I can control more of the outcomes.  I have a lifetime of experiences that have taught me how to deal with issues at work.  However, in this whole area of breast cancer, I feel I have little control and I don’t have the lifetime of experiences to know how to tackle this.  The minute that sentence came out of my mouth I knew it was not true.  I corrected myself.  The more and more I thought about it, the more I realized not only do I have numerous skills and life experiences which have prepared me to participate in my journey of healing, there are a number of things completely out of my control that have aligned to provide additional support for the road ahead.

First of all, I have a long, long history of listening to my body.  I took my first ideokinesis class from Peggy Hackney the summer of 1977, right after I graduated from college.  I didn’t really understand or value lying on the floor and listening to my body, but I was exhausted from the other dance classes I was taking and simply appreciated the opportunity to rest.  It wasn’t until I was in graduate school at Arizona State University (1981-1984) when I had the opportunity to study ideokinesis from Pam Matt, that the habit of stopping, listening and feeling on an internal level took root.  Anyone who has studied dance with me over the last 29 years knows I love to lie on the floor, pause and listen to what is going on inside me. It was this practice that lead to the timely diagnosis of my cancer – one that could not be felt by anyone’s fingertips and most of which was “microscopic.”

Two years ago while on Sabbatical I wrote a blog called “MAD and TAJ go around the World,” which was about the year I spent teaching (dance and writing) and traveling in Europe, Israel and China with my teen-age son, Josh.  I discovered during that time I could often write my way out of anxiety.  Often I did not even know why I was feeling anxious, but if I sat down and starting writing I would usually find my way to some understanding and a calmer place.  Last summer I decided to pursue this area more and I spent a wonderful week on Whidbey Island, Washington at a workshop called “The Self as Source,” with writing teacher Christina Baldwin.  I left the workshop even more convinced of the healing power of writing. 

At the end of the last academic year, my sister, Mary Jo and her husband, Bob D., both retired (she was a high school Spanish teacher and he was school district superintendent) and relocated from Bemidji, MN to St. Peter, MN.  So my sister and her husband now live around the corner from me. 

And, while I was devastated when the individual who had been my department’s superwoman academic assistant told me in the fall, she was leaving her part-time job at the college for a full-time position elsewhere, I could not imagine that my friend and yoga teacher, Kelly, would end up being hired in that position. 

During January term at my school I was teaching a course I have taught before that combines my two passions – moving and writing.  I had these seven amazing students, who dove down deep into their own lives and wrote powerful and healing stories based on their own life experiences.  Their courage and strength inspired me.  It was the second week of classes when I went in for the mammogram that set this journey in motion.  My mammogram was scheduled for early in the morning and should have been done before my class, but since it lead to further tests, I did not make it back in time for class.  I called Kelly and she went down stairs and taught a yoga to my students that day and they loved it.  During the entire month of January these seven students and I listened to our bodies, wrote our stories and sat in circle together.  It all nourished me to face the days that followed. 

After college I spent four years teaching high school biology and chemistry, and while that was a long time ago, I still have the foundational knowledge to understand, at least on a superficial level, the science behind each layer of my diagnosis.  I have had a number of people ask me “Isn’t all the information overwhelming?”  And, to answer honestly, it has not been.  I have been given, and understood, enough of the information to make an informed choice about each step along the way. 

And for me, that will be a “completion mastectomy” on Tuesday, March 12^th.  As I have said before, I will join the “clan of one-breasted women.” (Terry Tempest Williams) As I recover from that I will meet with an oncologist, and my next decisions will be made as they need to be made. 

What has overwhelmed me is the outpouring of support from so many people that I know.  Meals that have been prepared and given to us, dvds dropped off for healthy distractions, cards, messages, gifts – so, so much.