Broken Open

Cancer has broken me open.

For the last year, I have been fighting a quiet battle. Most days, the weapons were pointed inward, creating darkness words cannot describe. Other days, I waged war with everything and everyone around me, particularly with those I love the most.

Radiation re-ignited my inner light. Courage, love and compassion now burn brightly. I am learning to wage peace.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

It is fitting that my last blog chronicled the last time I was faced with my mortality. In what seems like a lifetime ago, pre-pandemic, more than two years ago, the ocean nearly claimed my life. This time, she provided solace as I ran to her upon diagnosis and returned to her embrace many times these last couple weeks since the conclusion of radiation. I’m grateful for her renewed invitation for rebirth.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

”Devotion” - Philadelphia, PA - January 2022 - Altar created on a blanket crocheted by my Grandmother who also walked a breast cancer journey. The Altar has held vigil with me throughout my healing process.

My annual mammogram last October snowballed into a series of tests over five months. In between, I contracted COVID that evolved to bronchitis and pneumonia. There were moments I felt I was taking my last breath. COVID has stayed with me for the long haul, burdening my body and mind. After healing from pneumonia, I was given a weeklong reprieve before I was diagnosed with breast cancer in February.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

After surgery in March, I again caught my breath to ready myself for the next step in my healing journey. I took inventory of my five options and methodically investigated them one by one. Upon serious health diagnosis, you are encouraged to get a second opinion. I got ten.

Over the next six months, I researched like my life depended on it. Statistics are more meaningful when they apply to you.

I spent countless hours earning an honorary degree in Healing from Cancer, pouring over medical journals, combing online support groups, formulating lists of questions for appointment with each specialist across disciplines at three facilities. Once my mind was satisfied with the information, I sat with my options - cross-referencing my head and my heart. I received wisdom from resources both earth-bound and beyond.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

“Angels” - Philadelphia, PA - October 2022

I finally found peace in my decision-making and started radiation on September 12. Armed with wrists full of gemstone bracelets, doused in essential oils and serenaded by mantras over the treatment room’s speakers, I integrated my brand of healing within my daily radiation sessions. The angels on my treatment team and my fierce heart guided me through daily panic attacks until my final session at 10:10am on 10/10 (auspicious, no?).

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

I have traveled to far corners of the world in search of myself. I have chased experiences that I’d hoped would lead me to believe in myself. But, it was through 21 days of radiation that I realized my inner strength.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

I am still processing this last year of life, as well as those from the 42 years before. As I unpack and unfurl, I love the woman I am becoming. As layers are shed, as long-held beliefs fall away, I am realizing this core of kindness and compassion and this wellspring of profound love that exists within me.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

I am a beautiful work in progress, given the opportunity to be broken open by illness and experience and trauma. While there may be darkness in the story, the light of hope pervades.

I don’t know where this precious life of mine will lead, but I am heartened by the light of hope, strengthened by my heart’s courage and determined to continue cultivating my inner light.

I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.

The phrases “I’m sorry. Please forgive me. Thank you. I love you.” are part of Ho’oponopono, an ancient, indigenous Hawaiian practice that cultivates healing, forgiveness and reconciliation. Ho’oponopono translates as “to correct a mistake” or “to make it right.” We repeat these four phrases to rectify our mistakes and connect to the present moment.

Ho’oponopono provides a powerful opportunity for self compassion, self forgiveness and self acceptance. We may direct these phrases to ourselves, someone we’ve harmed or to a force greater than ourselves: the collective, love, God, Spirit, Mother Nature. (Source: Rhythm Bliss)

Thank you for walking this healing journey with me. ♥︎

Blog #50: Turning the Page

Four and a half years ago, I set out to blog to cast the net of healing far and wide. Writing would serve as a medium to connect with folks unable to schedule a healing session with me. I intended to spotlight some of my best photographs emblazoned with inspirational quotes. An opportunity to share insights on mindful living and the healing modalities in which I’d been trained, I approached my blog with the firm boundaries I’d cultivated as a Social Worker. I thought I’d shy away from the personal. I was wrong.

To prepare for the milestone 50th entry that your eyes are now feasting on, I reread through the last 49 pieces. I was struck by my courage. It felt like reading the writing of a stranger. My process surprised me.

Brené Brown encourages that “owning our story and loving ourselves through the process is the bravest thing we will ever do”. A cathartic release, these last 49 entries detail my unraveling, the process of owning my story and learning, bit by bit, to love myself more. This bold set of writing cast light upon many shadows. I wrote through transitions galore from a major surgery to the deterioration of my longest partnership to the loss of my mom from resolutions and retreats to travel through 11 countries. Aspects of my self and my life hidden away for so long were unveiled.

Highlights from my favorite compositions include:

♥    Layers Healed, Layers Revealed which represents a turning point and brings me to tears anytime I

reread it. The tenderness and ownership here cut to the core.

♥     Code Blue for the sheer vulnerability it took to share and the exercise at the end that promotes the

realization of our unbound nature.

♥    Soul Cry that stands out as my favorite poem.

♥     I ♥ CAMBODIA which contains my most beloved pictures.

♥     Three Years Ago Today that I relish as one of the rawest of the many pieces about my mom.

♥     Sawubona – I See You, my most insightful post from Peace Corps service in South Africa, that

encourages self reflection and mirror work.

♥     My only recorded meditation to date, a lovingkindness practice, shared in Kindness is a Bridge.

♥    My first blog, How you Start Matters, which outlines practical intentionality for our every day lives. 

♥     The power of Krav Maga and tapping into your own Fighting Spirit.

♥     The recognition of growth in Holding Patterns which resonated with many people.

♥     Wisdom Within: Reflections on Silence, my third entry, the first in which I dipped my toe into the

vulnerability of telling my story.

♥     Winding my way through New Years’ practices in Illuminate 2016!

♥     Untangling fear and a prayer for ancestral forgiveness in I Saw the Light.

♥     Dissolution in the Desert which offers an awesome reflection on Vipassana retreats.

♥    My first writing in South Africa, Early Reflections, that unknowingly foreshadowed themes that

replayed throughout my Peace Corps service.

♥    Lessons in Receiving one of my most love-filled posts from South Africa.

♥    A representation of the full circle nature of life, The Gift of the Breath, which describes my feelings

on being accepted into the Peace Corps. I describe how I set out to “help” others and end up

being worked, much like this blogging process and my entire Peace Corps service.

The Other Side: Connect with the Photo: Taken right at the end of a visit to Victoria Falls. Shot from the Zambia side looking towards Zimbabwe.

I’m heartened to recognize the healing that needed to happen in order to tell and share my story. I’m incredibly proud of this body of work.

I’m heartened by the healing that has happened which invites me to release the story.

I’m now ready for the next chapter. I’m open to crafting a new story. I’m honored to turn the page.

With the recent passing of Mary Oliver, many of her beautiful word have been shared. This poem, “The Journey,” invited me to pause. It feels like a fitting conclusion to Blog #50 and inspiration to truly turn the page:

The Journey

 One day you finally knew

what you had to do, and began,

though the voices around you

kept shouting

their bad advice--

though the whole house

began to tremble

and you felt the old tug

at your ankles.

"Mend my life!"

each voice cried.

But you didn't stop.

You knew what you had to do,

though the wind pried

with its stiff fingers

at the very foundations,

though their melancholy

was terrible.

It was already late

enough, and a wild night,

and the road full of fallen

branches and stones.

But little by little,

as you left their voices behind,

the stars began to burn

through the sheets of clouds,

and there was a new voice

which you slowly

recognized as your own,

that kept you company

as you strode deeper and deeper

into the world,

determined to do

the only thing you could do--

determined to save

the only life you could save.

 Thank you for walking with me as I create the closing chapters of my journey as a Peace Corps Volunteer here in South Africa and learn to tell a new story. ♥

The content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

Healing in South Africa

“Your Mom will come in with a necklace of chicken heads with the chickens’ blood dripping down her body.” “Don’t be scared, though you will be.” “People will drum and dance all night. You will not sleep.” This was the helpful advice intended to prepare me for what took place at my house last weekend.

In Spirit - Limpopo Province, South Africa

In South Africa, great homage is paid to one’s ancestors and one’s whole life may be spent trying to placate them. When bad things happen, including illness, South Africans commonly point to the upset of the ancestors as to the origin of the bad luck. Through dreams or the intercession of a sangoma, a traditional healer, the ancestors may ask for a ritual ceremony. People gather for a lengthy rite and animals are, indeed, sacrificed in an attempt to settle the spirits and invite healing. Such was the case at my house last week.

First Arrival - Limpopo Province, South Africa

The only regular traffic in my village consists of men driving donkey carts full of various hauls. One afternoon, I arrived home from work as a donkey cart full of wood was being unloaded in our side yard. Preparations for last Saturday’s ceremony had officially begun. The next day, two Gogos came to brew traditional beer. The following morning, my Host Mama smeared cow dung over all the concrete surfaces of our courtyard in preparation for the next day’s event. I had questions about every one of these actions and the only answer I received was, “this is our culture.” Left without answers and taking into account my sensitive and empathetic nature, I realized I had to ground myself. I consulted a trusted confidant in the States to ensure I was properly shielded from the influx of energies sure to ensue.

The day of the ritual was a semi-flurry of activity with plenty of last minute arrangements, as is characteristic of South Africa planning. Around 7pm, Gogos and village elders started to arrive. Thankfully, the tent had been erected, but the lighting of the tent had still not been sorted. As Gogos do, they sat on the ground instead of the provided chairs.

My Host Sister and I acted as hostesses, as our Host Mama had not yet returned from the neighboring village. My Host Sister, having never attended such a ceremony was as lost as I was. We prepared tea and served scones to the guests. At one point, I was asked to wait on the room of sangomas. As I entered the room, a rush of energy almost overtook me. It wasn’t a collective energy, but coming from an undetermined source. I took a deep breath, got scolded for improper greeting, set down the tea and scones and left the room. Finally, my teenage language tutor and her friend arrived and provided some guidance. They told us the ceremony was to start at 10pm. As more people gathered, they brought blankets with them and amazingly slept amongst the noise as all of us awaited the event’s start.

Dancing with the Grandmothers - Limpopo Province, South Africa

Around 10pm, the drumming began and we gathered in the tent. For the next four hours, I witnessed, singing, drumming and dancing as the Gogos, most of whom I believe were sangomas, became possessed by their ancestors. The first, I thought, was having a seizure. Then I realized, similar to kriyas in the yogic tradition, convulsions ensued indicating the presence of the energy, in this case the ancestor within each respective woman. It was astounding to witness elderly women who were unsteady on their feet while walking transform into agile beings while dancing in their traditional outfits.  I have no idea what took place during these couple of hours, but it was captivating. Around 2am, I chose to retreat to my room after the eldest of the Gogos danced. In the sanctuary of my room, I burned sage, did some energy healing and slept for about 3 hours while the drumming, dancing, singing and the slaughtering of a goat continued on my doorstep. I awoke the next morning, performed my own morning rituals and readied for what became a whole day of interesting sights and sounds.

The God Within - Limpopo Province, South Africa

On Sunday, the only male of the group performed throughout the day. At one point, a young boy with Downs Syndrome rose from the crowd and was dancing with the sangoma. Their interactions were mesmerizing. Later in the afternoon, the sangoma led my Host Mama back to the tent where she collapsed shortly thereafter. She writhed on the ground while being tended to by several sangomas. As I sat with the young children of my household, the trauma-informed professional inside me was screaming to protect them from their mother’s convulsions. As I don’t speak enough Sepedi to have devised any explanation, the best I could do was rub their backs and concentrate on their heart chakras. As they took my Host Mama out of the tent, the enormity of what they saw hit them. I couldn’t do a thing. My elder Host Sister later told them that our Mama was just playing with her friends, which seemed to calm them.

The ceremony concluded as all South African gatherings do, with the consumption of copious amounts of alcohol. This is consistently my cue to exit. I withdrew to my room, burned some sage, turned on my Himalayan salt lamp and did some energetic clearing. Interestingly, my Host Mother lost her voice for the rest of that day. My host Sister lost hers the next day. I spent most of this week the sickest I’ve been in a long time, was unable to sleep nightly and lost my voice midweek. I’ve done daily clearing and kept up with my own practices. I took this weekend as an intentional unplug and recharge, clearing my schedule and resting to hopefully return to a more balanced state.

I’m incredibly grateful to have witnessed such a rich, cultural experience in such an intimate setting. No one has really been able to explain much of last weekend’s happenings. However, the energy spoke for itself and perhaps it doesn’t require further explanation. I don’t know if the healing ceremony was successful in quieting my Host Mother’s ancestors and providing her with healing. I felt compelled to write about it and share these insights as a part of my own healing and clearing process. ♥

I bow in gratitude to you for joining me during this chapter of service. I hope to shed some light on the emotional and spiritual journey of a Peace Corps Volunteer serving in rural South Africa. ♥

Should you wish to learn more about traditional healing, I recently read Susan Schuster Campbell’s Called to Heal: Traditional Healing meets Modern Medicine in Southern Africa Today and found it a fascinating read.

The content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

Burning Expectations

Expectations I had for Peace Corps Service in South Africa:

*       for it to be joy-filled

*       for it to be physically difficult, but emotionally fulfilling

*       that I would be able to use my self care skills to buffer stress and trauma

*       that people would welcome me

*       that people would welcome my help

*       that people would welcome my perspective

*       that people would welcome my ideas

*       ***that I would be valued***

*       to learn a language

*       that I would make lifelong friends both in country and within the Peace Corps

*       that there would be continuity in my service and my projects

*       that I would love my host country

*       that I would make a difference

*       that Peace Corps would support me

*       that I would be kind

*       that I would be open

*       that I would bring an empty cup

*       that it would fulfill my dream

*       that I’d be able to let go of him

*       that I’d be able not to think about him

*       that I’d be able to move on

*       that people would value me

*       that I could bring my skills to make a difference

*       that I’d see interesting things

*       that I’d love it

*       that I had the grit to do it

*       that I’d learn to stand on my own two feet

*       that I’d be lonely

*       that my relationships would shift

*       that my relationships would change

*       that my relationships would stay the same

*       that I would be able to be here

*       that I had everything I needed to do this

*       that all the tools of healing and self care and introspection would serve me as I served others

*       to grow

*       to be a good person

*       to be a good Volunteer

*       to be an exceptional Volunteer

*       to let go

*       not to think about life in the US

*       to be in the same place for two years

*       to be hungry

*       to not have access to food and others

*       to deal with bugs, spiders, stomach issues and lack of sleep

*       to feel in danger

*       to be in danger

*       to constantly fear sexual assault

*       to bring my skills to Africa

*       to grow as an individual

*       to shave my head

*       to learn a lot about yoga, personal development and all the topics I yearn to know more about since I’d have so much time to read, write and absorb

*       to slow down

*       to release expectations

*       to be instead of do

*       that it would go well

*       that because I’d deferred my dream for 20 years and was finally leaping that now was the perfect time to serve in the Peace Corps

*       that I wouldn’t miss my relationship

*       that I wouldn’t miss companionship

*       that I wouldn’t care that he moved on

*       that I wouldn’t care that life in the States moves on (without me)

*       that I would welcome rebuilding my life

*       that people would come visit me

*       that these 27 months would mean something

*       that I would tangibly give back

*       that I would curb the burnout I experienced as a social worker with my healing tools

*       that I’d be proud of myself

*       that I’d be proud of my accomplishments

*       that I’d carry myself with grace

*       that I’d represent myself well

*       that I’d represent my country well

*       that I’d get so attached I wouldn’t want to leave

*       that I’d love working with kids

*       that I’d teach yoga in Africa

*       that I’d only need support a year in

*       that I wouldn’t miss the States

*       that I wouldn’t look back

*       that I wouldn’t be safe

*       that I wouldn’t be heard if something happened

*       that the Peace Corps has a history of dysfunction and I shouldn’t have high expectations for support or being assigned to a site that matches my skill set

*       that things would go well

*       that I would struggle financially

*       that my monthly stipend wouldn’t cover my costs

*       that I was going into service without expectations

I’ve felt the weight of the world on my shoulders for the last year. In my new village, I feel the weight of trying to save a village, which simply isn’t realistic. Though I set out seemingly without expectations, here I listed 85 stream of consciousness expectations in a matter of minutes.

How often do we enter endeavors with the weight of the world on our shoulders?

Fire and the Mountain - Taken in Limpopo Province, South Africa

How often do we pile on the to-do lists and endless expectations of ourselves until we are burnt up?

How can we free ourselves of the weighty, unrealistic demands we place on ourselves ranging from life changes to mundane, everyday tasks?

How can we, instead, grant ourselves grace and breathing room and ease and space?

I’ve felt the weight of the each of these 85 expectations and likely more I haven’t even listed. I vow to let these go. Right here. Right now. I want to make an inventory of expectations on a regular basis and let those go, too.

I don’t have to carry the weight of the world or a village or a person or a task on my shoulders, my mind or my heart.

I choose grace.

I choose breathing room.

I choose ease.

I choose spaciousness.

I burn expectations with the intention of grace and breathing room and ease and spaciousness, making room for what is, making space for what will be.

I let go.

I invite you to do the same. ♥

I’m actively processing my 27 months of Peace Corps service with a keen eye towards my emotional and spiritual journey. I bow in gratitude to you for joining me.

The content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.

Witness

I fled

I said goodbye

I flew

I landed

I reconnected

I marched

I said goodbye

I reported on his birthday

I met them

I flew on her birthday

I landed

I connected

I felt exhausted

I missed him desperately

I rushed

I considered rebound

I recognized old patterns

I cried

I felt alone

I felt my age

I reconsidered

I received the letter

I cried

I tried to connect

I shed my hair

I played

I laughed

I gave reiki

I moved

I met them

I was inspired

We lost one

The fridge broke

The food spoiled

I was hungry

I went unheard

She threatened

I went unheard

She raised her hand

I went unheard

I was hungry

I was nurtured

I spoke my vulnerabilities

I was heard

I struggled with the language

I struggled with them

I made a sister

I connected

I felt alone

I walked

We walked

We found solace

We grew apart

I felt alone

I resented him

I resented them

I resented It

I met her

I fell in love

I met them

We became friends

I saw light

I felt hope

I had ideas

I connected

I proposed ideas

She shut me down

She barred me from the community

She banned me from making connections

She was afraid

I connected

They opened

They shut down

The became catty

Things were tense

She left

I wrote the report

I was proud

I was resented

I tried other ways

She left

I shut down

She shut me down

She threatened

I stood up

I crawled under the fence

I walked

I meditated

I sat

I walked

I connected

I was fired

I cried

I said goodbye

I was in a holding pattern

I waited

I returned

I said goodbye

The mud stained

I said hello

The spirit felt wrong

I was miserable

I cried

I tried to make it work

He refused to listen

He followed

He jumped from the moving taxi

They offered return

I leapt

I put my feet in the sand

I flew

I landed

I connected

I met him

My heart alighted

I was renewed

I connected

I strengthened

I returned to me

I found out online instead of from him

I felt betrayed

I recognized old patterns

I walked

I put my feet in the ocean

I felt heard

I felt unheard

I felt accused

I cleared

I confronted

I made plans

Plans unraveled

Things stilled

He grabbed me

I met her

We connected

I met her

He grabbed me

He wouldn’t let go

We taught them

She dropped me off

He approached

I was terrified

I called him

I felt unheard

He called me

He picked me up

I reentered the holding pattern

I waited

Again, they offered return

I tuned in

I stood up

I recalibrated

I packed up

I said goodbye

I started fresh

I reclaimed my space

I re-centered

I found purpose

I found hope

I continue to let go

I make space

I let go

I make space

I let go

I breathe

I stretch

I recalibrate

I breathe

I stretch

I re-center

I breathe

I stretch

I renew

I reclaim.

***

How do you sum up a journey? How do you detail how you got from there to here? As I reflect on my Peace Corps journey to get me from there to here, these 173 lines begged to be witnessed. Each claimed space in my being. Each experience, each feeling, each memory was written down. I cut the paper into pieces, each experience, each feeling, each memory carving out its own space - outside of me. Then, I burned the pieces with some sage and prayers, releasing the past, releasing the experience, releasing the feeling, releasing the memory to make space for the new, to make space for what’s to come, to release, to breathe, to stretch, to renew, to reclaim. I am grateful to be witnessed. Thank you ♥

Sometimes, it is simply the act of witness that provides the ritual. I invite you to create your own ritual of release, renew and reclaim. Are there experiences, feelings or memories that are begging for release? Might you release them through a breath, a stretch, a walk, a conversation, writing, burning, dance, travel?

May you carve out the time to create the space your spirit and heart crave ♥

As I process the emotional and spiritual 27-month journey of Peace Corps Service here in South Africa, I reflect through writing, meditation, sitting and walking through. I aim to be present to the pleasant and sit with the unpleasant, awakening daily to the gifts that lie in this experience. Thank you for joining me.

The content of this website is mine alone and does not necessarily reflect the views of the U.S. Government, the Peace Corps, or the South African Government.