I had just completed a postpartum depression scale at my OB/GYN’s when my doctor walked in with a concerned look on her face. “Your ultrasound this morning revealed a large tumor on your left ovary and it looks suspicious.” Sitting there exhausted and hormonal 6 weeks after the birth of our second daughter, I was only catching every couple words…possible cancer…will be diagnosed in the OR…if so, full hysterectomy…chemo…will have to stop breastfeeding. Good thing that depression scale came first.
The two weeks before my surgery were the hardest and most transfiguring of my life. The veil between the now and forever was torn in two and I began to see with new eyes. Everything was achingly beautiful…the light on my kitchen counter, the smell of my baby pressed against me, her big sister’s dimple when she laughed. The beauty hurt more than the possibility of cancer.
The tumor was removed and benign but in those two weeks I lived more deeply and fully than ever before. I experienced that when you live like you’re dying, you know best what it means to really LIVE. I picked up a camera as a means of maintaining a new-found vision.
That veil has dropped and my vision blurred time and time again. The minutes pound hard and my work and kids press into me. I become like the walking dead and my senses become deadened. It’s the sound of my shutter button that snaps me back. How about you?…
When was the last time your senses were fully awake? What life experience has punctured the veil for you? How can we better live in the truths these experiences have taught us?
Next stop: Our Challenge: the Slumber of Being Human