What We Want

What we want is to feel alive. To have an appetite. To have muscle. To move. To feel things, smell them, touch them, see them, taste them, hear them. To know safety and comfort. To have clarity and purpose. To know love, beauty. To feel empowered. To have hope.

There is, by the way, no such thing as false hope. Hope always goes against odds, and is exactly that—believing in and focussing on possibility.

My chemo this week threw me for more of a loop than I’d planned on, so — unbearably self-pitying and bored with the living room this morning — I ventured out. The melting snow and bright sun felt mocking, not soothing. This is the part we’re loathe to admit, or write about when we find ourselves in the crucibles of life: we despair. We do our yoga and our meditation to maintain resilience and optimism, and tap into an unexpected well of rage instead.

So out I went, into the bright sun, not knowing where to, thinking perhaps I might capture some beauty with my camera, or take a peek at January sales. Strike, and strike.

I drove by the long line-up at Edmonton’s Bissell Centre and was reminded of this fundamental truth: no matter what our station in life, we want to improve it. Mittens, a hot drink, a jacket.

My fatigue won out. I turned the car into the local grocery store and picked up some sushi, fresh raspberries, and the carrot muffins I’d been craving. (Yes, I still have an appetite, sort of at least, thankfully.) I looked at the fresh flowers and toyed with indulging myself, but they turned out to be too much to carry.

It wasn’t exactly what I wanted, my outing, but neither was it in vain. I remembered that I’m not alone, that bad times pass. I remembered the angels that minister to my physical and emotional health. I remembered to tell them thank you. I remembered my friend, in her own current hell, and sent her my love via the wavelengths of life that connect us all. I remembered the love of my parents, my husband, my children. And as I left the parking lot, I received a text from one of them. Medicine for my spirit. Their love and joy are baptismal waters for me, always.

connie child 5

(Yup, that’s me, back in the age of innocence. There was a little girl, who had a little curl, right in the middle of her forehead…. I’m trying to remember the feeling.)

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16 thoughts on “What We Want

  1. So beautiful, Connie! Thanks for sharing your thoughts and feelings! I do think of you often. I am sending, love, compassion, and hope for brighter days ahead.

  2. You know I always love what you write, this one gave me a (bit of) wake up call….why am I so negative? So full of self pity and loathing. I am pathetic. There are millions of people who would trade their current situation for mine. In a heartbeat! Damn, I need to get over myself! Thanks friend for the wake up call. I need to see you soon.
    Love your photo of a younger you. Precious. Just as you are today.

  3. Sending you blossoms for that sweet picture, and for recalling that feeling, and for healing, and to celebrate your hope, courage, and for making this world a better and truer place.

  4. “We do our yoga and our meditation to maintain resilience and optimism, and tap into an unexpected well of rage instead.” Oh, I love those truthful words. And yet, that rage dissipates when we surrender. I love it when the Universe sees the white flag and makes the gloom dissipate.

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