acceptance

Last night I dreamed that I dove into a swimming pool and just barely made it back to the surface before I ran out of air.

I've been working on acceptance. Accepting the fear. Accepting that the next scan is now just weeks away.  Accepting the feelings of worry that grow more forceful as it nears.  Accepting the strangeness of one day holding so much significance, even though it's just a day, like every other.  Accepting that day will either bring us great joy and relief or plunge us back into a depth too terrifying to think about. Accepting that sometimes I feel strong and centered and sometimes the panic swirls in so tight I can't breathe.  Accepting this is our path now, as unbelievable as it still often feels.

Sometimes on cloudless mornings, as I sit at the kitchen table just before dawn, the sun suddenly breaks over the eastern horizon and my thoughts are lit from behind.  The warmth spreads through me like water. I am lost for a bit of time in the beauty and thankfulness.  Here is a floating moment of ease.

For all of us there is beauty and pain.   How vivid it has all become for me.  I know there is a gift in that.  Accepting this gift is work, but I have endurance and desire.  And really, I have no choice.  Even in my dreams that gasp of air fills my lungs just before I wake.