Becca's wisdom
May. 15th, 2006 04:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ar_wahanI've mentioned a couple of times here that the day after I learned I had cancer, I spent a sunny afternoon with Becca the Wise (she'd *hate* being called that - giggle! - but it's true! ^_^). But I have never gotten around to posting what she said.
Part of it is that there was so much that we said to each other . . . ranging from past life memories of mine, to her insights into them and her reactions, to random exchanges about work, kids, spouses, gardens.
But this is what she said specifically about my current health situation. Paraphrasing, of course....
Part of it is that there was so much that we said to each other . . . ranging from past life memories of mine, to her insights into them and her reactions, to random exchanges about work, kids, spouses, gardens.
But this is what she said specifically about my current health situation. Paraphrasing, of course....
She said that when we met in 1995, I was "ruled by fear," but she has seen that really change in the last couple of years -- I am emerging into almost a new form; my empath and other psychic abilities are much stronger, I am more confident, my energy is powerful. As if my wings had been bound and are now free. (She's not saying angel wings -- I'm not otherkin, just to be clear on that. My own image is of a butterfly that has emerged damp and weak from the crysalis, and is pumping the new wings to strengthen them and fill them with blood for flight.) She knows a lot of my past in this life (some of her own has actually been quite similar).
She noted (and I already knew this, because she has told me before) that she can often "see" when a person's spirit is ready to move on. The body may not even be sick, but the spirit inside doesn't want to be there anymore, it's just biding time until it can leave. That is not what she saw in me at all. "This is not the beginning of a downward slide," she said.
Rather, she likened finding the cancer now and having it removed to "cleaning house." Spring cleaning. Getting rid of old rubbish and moving on to a fresh phase of life -- leaving behind the detritus of an abusive childhood (and adulthood, from my mother), years of unhappiness in my marriage, fear for my child in her depression, terror over financial difficulties, etc.
In fact, as you know, much of what I've been doing the past few months has quite literally been "cleaning house" -- getting colorful paint onto once drab walls, rearranging furniture, finding novel new uses for old things (example: I turned an old wooden grain bucket from my husband's grandmother's farm into a place to put rolled-up chenille throws when I want them off the loveseat and chair in the living room).
*Except* for the cancer diagnosis (and having Fancy disappear -- but perhaps her spirit was one of those ready to leave, and also to make way for Cato-as-Tobycat), an awful lot of good things have been happening to me in the last few months.
Anyway, I left Becca's feeling pumped up and confident.
I also think I know where yesterday's fear came from. Old tapes. About this time in May in 1987, my father was told he had colon cancer. He called me in a very optimistic frame of mind (another Sagittarius!) to say that as his doctor had explained, "If you have to have cancer, this is the one to get," because all they were going to do was take out a small portion of his intestine and fasten the rest of it back together.
Unfortunately, when they opened him up, they were surprised to find four inoperable tumors on his liver.
So that's where the fear of "unexpected bad news" came from -- that, plus learning that Susan had died Sunday morning.
She noted (and I already knew this, because she has told me before) that she can often "see" when a person's spirit is ready to move on. The body may not even be sick, but the spirit inside doesn't want to be there anymore, it's just biding time until it can leave. That is not what she saw in me at all. "This is not the beginning of a downward slide," she said.
Rather, she likened finding the cancer now and having it removed to "cleaning house." Spring cleaning. Getting rid of old rubbish and moving on to a fresh phase of life -- leaving behind the detritus of an abusive childhood (and adulthood, from my mother), years of unhappiness in my marriage, fear for my child in her depression, terror over financial difficulties, etc.
In fact, as you know, much of what I've been doing the past few months has quite literally been "cleaning house" -- getting colorful paint onto once drab walls, rearranging furniture, finding novel new uses for old things (example: I turned an old wooden grain bucket from my husband's grandmother's farm into a place to put rolled-up chenille throws when I want them off the loveseat and chair in the living room).
*Except* for the cancer diagnosis (and having Fancy disappear -- but perhaps her spirit was one of those ready to leave, and also to make way for Cato-as-Tobycat), an awful lot of good things have been happening to me in the last few months.
Anyway, I left Becca's feeling pumped up and confident.
I also think I know where yesterday's fear came from. Old tapes. About this time in May in 1987, my father was told he had colon cancer. He called me in a very optimistic frame of mind (another Sagittarius!) to say that as his doctor had explained, "If you have to have cancer, this is the one to get," because all they were going to do was take out a small portion of his intestine and fasten the rest of it back together.
Unfortunately, when they opened him up, they were surprised to find four inoperable tumors on his liver.
So that's where the fear of "unexpected bad news" came from -- that, plus learning that Susan had died Sunday morning.
