OLD THINGS

While cooking pasta recently, I took down from a high shelf this bent and tarnished colander. When my mother-in-law died six years ago, my husband and I went through her many possessions, giving some away to family and friends, tossing others, and keeping some things for ourselves. One of the items that seemed to speak to me was this colander, so I took it home.

I already had a shiny, new colander that was twice its size. Why did I decide to keep this worn one? Perhaps my mother had one just like it when I was growing up, and it subconsciously brought warm memories of home-cooked meals with my parents and three sisters.

I suspect this old thing possesses character, unlike the bright new one. It’s seen countless years of use, and would have tales to tell, if it could speak.

One of the lessons I learned on my Vision Quest in 2000 was that all things possess the Spirit. The only reason that molecules bind together and form objects is because they are directed by an Unseen Hand. This lowly colander has Spirit, just as I do. I respect that.

In addition, though, the very qualities of age, the tarnished metal, and the warped shape all seem to me to be beautiful. I, too, am worn. My hair no longer gleams with warm shades of honey. The sleek shape I was so proud of for many years is now a thing of the past. And yet, am I not still beautiful in a way that reflects inner character? I like to think that is true.

Admiring my old colander and loving it for its age and worn beauty, is a metaphor for loving myself as I grow older. Just as I appreciate the colander for its character, its years of service, and its tarnished beauty, so too I am grateful for this body that has served me well, and for my open and growing spirit.

Resurrection

(If you are reading this by way of an email notification, it is rather lengthy. You may prefer reading it on my blog: www.mary-alongtheway.blogspot.com).

How very appropriate, given this is Easter weekend: I feel viscerally that I have been given my life back.

Recently after a routine mammogram, I was called back for a second exam: the radiologist had seen a suspicious spot. That’s never happened before, and I’ve never had a foreboding that cancer was in my future, although I understand that I am as vulnerable as anyone else. One or the other will get us all in the end (cancer or heart problems), unless an accident intervenes. I’m far from “doom-and-gloom” about this, as we all have a one-way ticket in this miracle we call Life.

After viewing the second mammogram, the radiologist recommended a needle biopsy to determine whether the spot/calcifications were malignant. From the moment I received the call to repeat the mammogram until this morning nine days later, I have experienced a wide range of feelings, thoughts and emotions. Certainly I prayed there was no malignancy. But I also realized that I have had an exceedingly good life. I didn’t wonder “Why me?” when I have been so richly blessed with my oh-so supportive husband and partner, a loving family, a wealth of true friends, and comparatively good health all these years. It is a tragedy when a young person succumbs to cancer, yes. Even though I’m not young, the onset of cancer would be devastating. I dreaded the treatments, the doctors’ appointments, the surgeries, and so on. Oh, how I dreaded it!

These nine days have been a suspenseful time, during which I prayed and centered myself through meditation. I did not anticipate bad news, but I needed to prepare myself emotionally for the possibility.

This morning I received the very good news that the calcifications are benign, which I had been told is usually the case, and I wept with the relief of it all.

May I tell you about the gifts I received from this experience? Foremost is a renewed gratitude for Tom’s presence at my side, through the good times and the hard times. He never wavers. Tom took off work to accompany me to the hospital for the needle biopsy. For a day afterwards, I felt cherished and cared for (but then Tom always makes me feel that way!), as he cooked the meals and reminded me to take it easy, do no lifting, and simply rest. Some people live their entire lives never being cherished and loved! I thought about what it would be like to go through the challenges that accompany growing older, without the unconditional love and support that Tom gives me. It would be a hell, and I am reminded once more that Tom is a grace in my life that is a gift and a blessing beyond my comprehension.

A second gift arose from this health scare, and that is the love I felt from my two sons. Parents who have not experienced the trauma of divorce and the shattering of their family often give (and receive) love from their offspring without a second thought. It’s different for those of us who are divorced, however. There is a kind of tentativeness in our relationships with our kids, because there has been a lot of pain on all sides. My gift was that my sons responded to this situation with complete support and love for me. Their relief when I told them the good news of non-malignancy was palpable. I was brought up short by how they each expressed their love and thankfulness that I had received good news. This was a gift of their unconditional love, and I melted at the fierceness of that love, which overcame all the pain of the divorce years.

I did receive one final gift. We who have been brought up with a belief in God have been taught that God is always present to us. We have that knowledge in our heads, but rarely does it move the short distance from our heads to our hearts. For a brief time as I prayed, meditated, and awaited the results of the biopsy, I experienced in my being the feeling of being completely held and cherished by God (or by the Universe or the Presence), and that I could relax into those “Arms of Love”. I didn’t need to plan or do anything, as the knowledge of what to do would be given to me in each given moment. Whether cancer was found or not, I was at peace, because I knew I was one with God, or the Presence. Nothing separates me from the Divine!

I wish I could tell you that I have sustained that “felt” sense of the Divine’s presence. I do get brief moments when I feel it again. But mostly the awareness is in my head, rather than in my heart. I’m grateful to have felt it at all though, and I know that if I am patient and persistent, it will come to me more and more over time.

I would like to end this by quoting Deepak Chopra from his book, "The Third Jesus":

“Spirit grows spontaneously, in its own time.
Have patience, and persist.”

Happy Easter!