2018 is All Jacked Up – Already

I mean, CRAP! In like a lion, 2018.  Is it too early to ask for the lamb?

I am all jacked up for this year because it is the one wherein I turn fifty, (shhh!).  Saying ‘yes’ as much as I can is.  Pondering ‘how’ not ‘if’ cool things can be done.  Not just dreaming but developing action plans for doing Very. Big. Things.  In life, in work, in sport and adventure, at every intersection possible.  In my 49 years, I have loved each New Year for this fresh opportunity.

13 days in and 3 biggies already.

#1 – We lost him:

Frank.jpg

My sweet-natured, loyal to the core, gentle-spirited uncle, godfather and friend. It was sudden to say the least. Fit and healthy in mind, body and soul, he died at the gym. His exit from here and entry to his heaven stunned  his large family and devoted friends. We love and miss you, Frank H. Nott. We are reeling from the loss of you. However, I am comforted to know your energy is commingled now with your sisters and brothers and parents who paved the way before you.  I am grateful to feel it is a little more okay to hit the highway to heaven – I just don’t want it t happen to me anytime soon. I got sh*t to do.

Lesson: Ya better get going, people – you never know when it is your time.  Repair what’s broken. Create your dreams. Dump love along the way.  Everywhere.

#2 -I did this:

Screen Shot 2018-01-12 at 6.31.27 PM.png

I had my 5th or 6th surgery to remove skin cancers from my face.  This is not really a biggie but starting off a year with surgery and scars is kinda a thing. I list it really for the irony.  The surgery was scheduled for Feb 6th. I got a call from my surgeon that she wanted to fit me in on 1/8 the same day and almost time that Frank left. As my face was getting fixed my aunt and cousins were falling apart. My face will heal fast. My prayers for my Aunt and cousins picked up pace and continue so. Drop one down (or up) for them if you are so inclined.  Thank you.

#3 – January happens.

Every year.

This month is full of significant milestones. Anniversaries of loss, births and memories of knuckle grinding, bootstrap pulling, breathing to survive.  We have been remembering for 21 Januaries now.  New sh*t in the pot of heart-searing memories re-etched year after year.  This is a pot I will gladly keep stirring – because it’s a poke at the bee’s nest of pure pure love.

And so themes for 2018 are:

Love.

Yes.

How.

Happy New Year.

 

 

 

 

Scarred and Stoked

Disclaimer: Selfie game is strong. So sorry.

I don’t know if is this morning’s prana pumping party (aka kundalini yoga class) hosted by the marvelous Holly Henty or that fact that I have just had the 3rd of 3 surgeries on my face to remove skin cancers but I feel better than I have in 3 weeks.

scars
My new face

In less than 3 weeks I have:

  • Received 113 stitches in my face.
  • Taught a yoga class and given a talk looking like this (although a shower was involved):
sidescar
Post-op Surgery #1
  • Learned to drink water and wine like this:
  •  Showed up at Thanksgiving looking like this:

thanksgivingface

I also got to experience this:

I was not and am not in a health crisis but the work was necessary if I want it to say so.  I feel so refreshed, so free so grateful to have access to an amazing surgeon, health insurance, and the means to pay for the balance on this bad boy. (I estimate my out of pocket to be around $25 per stitch.) Merry Christmas to me, I suppose.

Yes, indeed.

Besides the people, prana, and stitch-free state of affairs, I am stoked from a run-in with an angel this morning. As I was braiding my daughters hair I reflected that my mother (almost 20 years an angel) would have loved watching her daughter weave shapes into her granddaughter’s mane. I decided to ask if she was with us. I felt her presence but wanted a REAL SIGN. (hello, where’s the faith??) I asked her to show me by having my daughter say something in the next 10 seconds, could be anything.

10, 9, 8, (lord, please let it happen)

7, 6, 5 (I just know Jane will speak)

4, 3, 2, 1 (nothing. RATS)

All good though. I don’t like to be tested either.

About an hour later, as we began our yoga class, Holly reminded us that we are infinitely connected to our source of life. Before and after to umbilical cord is cut. The connection never dies. I connected it to my mother-yearning-moment of earlier and just KNOW I was meant to hear it.

It was so right in my face.

Here’s hers:

mom

I dig irony.