community, and hard news
Feb. 27th, 2006 12:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
chelidonI'll start this post with photographic proof positive that our house is full of trixy fey. See?! I swear, they sneak up on you when you least expect it...
So anyhow, this has been a hard week. Most of the household, including my ravishing partner Claudia, flew off to various exotic locales, to teach in a cold place or carouse in a warm one. My as-close-as-I-have-to-a sister and Lovely Housemate Angelica is here (and we've taken the opportunity of relative quiet to hang out and chat more than we usually can), but otherwise it's just me and the beamish boi, and the seven cats (and I can tell you, my Lovely Housemates Paul & Kelly's cat has spent pretty much every possible moment since her humans left curled up in my lap, making damn sure I'm not going anywhere...)
It's times like this when I realize how much I've changed over the years. From growing up pretty much alone, taking care of myself, I've now come to feel most at home when immersed in a warm sea of partnership and community. How very odd. I still have my solitude -- as a writer, I spend most work days alone but for the cats, and that suits me fine. And there are days when I cringe a bit when everyone starts to come home in the afternoon and evening, because I'm on a good run of writing or composing music or some such, and I know once the house gets full and noisy, as much as I try, concentration is going to be difficult (that may change somewhat once my office with a DOOR gets finished).
But I find there's a feeling of vigorous, healthy life-force, of deep, sweet, harmonious energy flow, a constant interchange, an energetic banter, that I miss when the house is mostly empty. There's a certain background activity with everyone here, a constant thrum and swish and hum, a constantly-changing but always strangely familiar song, with solos and harmonies and descants and counterpoints that I notice I really miss when it's not here -- like air, most notable when you're not getting as much as you're used to ;> Maybe that constant immersion in the raucous flow of life is the definition of the word "family," in the very best sense.
I was raised, and learned from life's early lessons, to be as completely self-sufficient as possible. Needs, especially needing others, was one of the cardinal sins, so I find that now, I second-guess myself relentlessly -- am I being co-dependant, have I lost something of myself when immersing into community? But, no. There really is something to be said for learning to co-exist in a healthy community, to relax into it, to know what your part is, and be able to let others do theirs. In this, as in all things, there's a balance, between personal self-suffficiency and independence, and in being able to not only give to, but take from community when it's a part of the natural flow, when there is (and here's that sinful word again), a genuine need. And I have to remember that I've now spent more time living this way, with my partner and in intentional communities (20+ years for each), than I spent growing up, so maybe it's not so unusual to have adapted in all of that time ;>
This really has been a hard week for it to be quiet here, especially the last couple of days. There's such a thing as too much time to think (tho' with an active 6-year-old boy in the house, that time comes mostly after bedtime ;>)
And this is the hard news. Word's started to spread, and I don't know who knows and who doesn't, so I'll just put this out there, figuring anyone who's bothered to read this far probably has reason to know. My partner Claudia has cancer, thyroid cancer to be exact. I got the news on Friday. Very treatable, caught it fairly early, prognosis is good, probably doesn't involve chemo or radiation. But still, cancer. Still, scary. Very scary. The words "lymph node" make my heart race and my skin go cold. 21 years is just a start, I want 80 more. I know that behind all of the practical arrangements and normal functioning, I'm still in shock to some extent, there are still places my mind won't go. And when Claudia gets back home tomorrow night from her week of teaching, we'll have a lot to talk about.
So, one thing that happens is that my priorities shift -- if I'm not online as much, it's not because I don't care about y'all, it's because I've got to make some changes in my life. If we're friends, even if I don't write, know that I'm thinking about you, that I care, that I'd love to hear from you, anytime. Heck, you'll probably make my day :>
I don't have much else to say right now. Other than this...I've rambled on at length periodically about how important it is to figure out what you want to do, and who you want to do it with, and then make it happen. Not later, not someday, now. Right now. Because that's all you've got. I've been blessed and cursed with losing a number of very dear friends and loved ones at an early age, often suddenly and without warning. So it's difficult for me to live in a fantasy world and ignore that one event we all experience sooner or later, the pure truth that you never, ever know that you have any more time, or that anyone else does, either.
If there's something you really, truly want to do, a dream or a goal, figure out, today, what your first small step is to get there, and do it. Whether or not you succeed, you'll have tried. If there's someone you need to talk to, words to be spoken, something that really matters, do it now. Because there's absolutely no guarantee that there will be another chance down the road. Each moment we get to experience, every moment we get to have with each other, is a gift, it really, truly is.
There's that old wisdom that the one thing nobody ever, ever, says on their deathbed is, "I wish I'd spent more time at work." Figure out what you'd wish you did, what you'd really, truly regret if you never did, and do it, or at least commit to it, and start your journey towards it. Life's too short for bullshit. No matter how long, or short your life is, or how long or short are those of the people around you who matter to you, that one thing is one of the few absolute truths I can speak. Cut the crap, just go and do it. Love fearlessly, spend your time with those who matter to you, throw yourself with passion and joy into the cauldron of change, and drain to the very last drop the one cup of life you've been given -- bitter, sweet, or something in between, don't leave a taste behind to be wasted. 'Cause, you know, it won't keep ;>
So anyhow, this has been a hard week. Most of the household, including my ravishing partner Claudia, flew off to various exotic locales, to teach in a cold place or carouse in a warm one. My as-close-as-I-have-to-a sister and Lovely Housemate Angelica is here (and we've taken the opportunity of relative quiet to hang out and chat more than we usually can), but otherwise it's just me and the beamish boi, and the seven cats (and I can tell you, my Lovely Housemates Paul & Kelly's cat has spent pretty much every possible moment since her humans left curled up in my lap, making damn sure I'm not going anywhere...)
It's times like this when I realize how much I've changed over the years. From growing up pretty much alone, taking care of myself, I've now come to feel most at home when immersed in a warm sea of partnership and community. How very odd. I still have my solitude -- as a writer, I spend most work days alone but for the cats, and that suits me fine. And there are days when I cringe a bit when everyone starts to come home in the afternoon and evening, because I'm on a good run of writing or composing music or some such, and I know once the house gets full and noisy, as much as I try, concentration is going to be difficult (that may change somewhat once my office with a DOOR gets finished).
But I find there's a feeling of vigorous, healthy life-force, of deep, sweet, harmonious energy flow, a constant interchange, an energetic banter, that I miss when the house is mostly empty. There's a certain background activity with everyone here, a constant thrum and swish and hum, a constantly-changing but always strangely familiar song, with solos and harmonies and descants and counterpoints that I notice I really miss when it's not here -- like air, most notable when you're not getting as much as you're used to ;> Maybe that constant immersion in the raucous flow of life is the definition of the word "family," in the very best sense.
I was raised, and learned from life's early lessons, to be as completely self-sufficient as possible. Needs, especially needing others, was one of the cardinal sins, so I find that now, I second-guess myself relentlessly -- am I being co-dependant, have I lost something of myself when immersing into community? But, no. There really is something to be said for learning to co-exist in a healthy community, to relax into it, to know what your part is, and be able to let others do theirs. In this, as in all things, there's a balance, between personal self-suffficiency and independence, and in being able to not only give to, but take from community when it's a part of the natural flow, when there is (and here's that sinful word again), a genuine need. And I have to remember that I've now spent more time living this way, with my partner and in intentional communities (20+ years for each), than I spent growing up, so maybe it's not so unusual to have adapted in all of that time ;>
This really has been a hard week for it to be quiet here, especially the last couple of days. There's such a thing as too much time to think (tho' with an active 6-year-old boy in the house, that time comes mostly after bedtime ;>)
And this is the hard news. Word's started to spread, and I don't know who knows and who doesn't, so I'll just put this out there, figuring anyone who's bothered to read this far probably has reason to know. My partner Claudia has cancer, thyroid cancer to be exact. I got the news on Friday. Very treatable, caught it fairly early, prognosis is good, probably doesn't involve chemo or radiation. But still, cancer. Still, scary. Very scary. The words "lymph node" make my heart race and my skin go cold. 21 years is just a start, I want 80 more. I know that behind all of the practical arrangements and normal functioning, I'm still in shock to some extent, there are still places my mind won't go. And when Claudia gets back home tomorrow night from her week of teaching, we'll have a lot to talk about.
So, one thing that happens is that my priorities shift -- if I'm not online as much, it's not because I don't care about y'all, it's because I've got to make some changes in my life. If we're friends, even if I don't write, know that I'm thinking about you, that I care, that I'd love to hear from you, anytime. Heck, you'll probably make my day :>
I don't have much else to say right now. Other than this...I've rambled on at length periodically about how important it is to figure out what you want to do, and who you want to do it with, and then make it happen. Not later, not someday, now. Right now. Because that's all you've got. I've been blessed and cursed with losing a number of very dear friends and loved ones at an early age, often suddenly and without warning. So it's difficult for me to live in a fantasy world and ignore that one event we all experience sooner or later, the pure truth that you never, ever know that you have any more time, or that anyone else does, either.
If there's something you really, truly want to do, a dream or a goal, figure out, today, what your first small step is to get there, and do it. Whether or not you succeed, you'll have tried. If there's someone you need to talk to, words to be spoken, something that really matters, do it now. Because there's absolutely no guarantee that there will be another chance down the road. Each moment we get to experience, every moment we get to have with each other, is a gift, it really, truly is.
There's that old wisdom that the one thing nobody ever, ever, says on their deathbed is, "I wish I'd spent more time at work." Figure out what you'd wish you did, what you'd really, truly regret if you never did, and do it, or at least commit to it, and start your journey towards it. Life's too short for bullshit. No matter how long, or short your life is, or how long or short are those of the people around you who matter to you, that one thing is one of the few absolute truths I can speak. Cut the crap, just go and do it. Love fearlessly, spend your time with those who matter to you, throw yourself with passion and joy into the cauldron of change, and drain to the very last drop the one cup of life you've been given -- bitter, sweet, or something in between, don't leave a taste behind to be wasted. 'Cause, you know, it won't keep ;>
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:27 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:29 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:44 pm (UTC)My heart goes out to you and Claudia.... I hear, honor and share your fears. You've been in my thoughts since your plea for good healing energy went out last week. Please keep all of us posted as it is appropiate. I think highly of you and yours.
With Much Love,
Swansister
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 07:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 08:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 08:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 08:45 pm (UTC)And, although I wish it had come under happier circumstances, thank you for the reminder that life's too short for bullshit. I needed to hear that.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 09:03 pm (UTC)That's the plan, though there's typically radioactive iodine treatment in there, too, as well as a period of hypothyroidism during treatment an in the months until things stabilize. If all goes well... but of course it's the various scenarios where things don't go well that are scary.
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 09:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 09:56 pm (UTC)K
no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:09 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:13 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:55 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-02-27 10:58 pm (UTC)