Julie Unplugged

#31Days of Living a Passionate Life, Day 2/31 - Choosing a Passionate Attitude

 

In October 2013, I am hosting an exploration of liiving a passionate life. On Day 2, we look at choosing your attitude via a conversation with my daughter and mother.

My sixteen-year-old daughter, Emma, was frustrated with me last night. My car has a phone which makes everyone a member of the conversation. My Mom called and I said, “Mom, great news! I don’t have melanoma again!” to which she responded, “Oh, Julie, that’s great!”

 

Considering I hadn’t even told her I had a biopsy last week I found this more than slightly surprising.

“Yes, it is great even though I don’t have melanoma again, I do have basal cell happier to have basal cell than melanoma!”

happier to have basal cell than melanoma!”

 

We went on to talk about how we were celebrating and on and on and it turns out Emma was seething in the back seat. This morning she told me with an angry face,

It is easier to choose a passionate attitude when life is going exactly as planned. Last Spring with Emma and Katherine (Emma on the right).

“I was so mad at you guys. You have cancer – you shouldn’t celebrate, this is going to be awful again.”

 

She even said the color of the ribbon for melanoma was black and that wasn’t even a fun color to wear, to which I quipped, “Basal Cell Carcinoma is so harmless, they don’t even have a ribbon.”

Suddenly, Emma didn’t mind our celebrating and she understood why we were jumping up and down with glee over the news.

This is how it is a lot when we “lose” our passion.

It isn’t that your passion has disappeared or is no longer functional, it is that you have chosen to look at life as if your passion doesn’t exist.

What if you shifted gears and looked through life’s veil differently.

A year ago I wouldn’t have understood about the different variety of skin cancers.

Now that I have lived the journey of melanoma survivor, I am able to make light of it not because it isn’t serious, it is because I am choosing to look through life with a different attitude. I’m a melanoma thriver, not survivor. My heart hurts for those who have had melanoma and weren’t so blessed.

I hear it regularly, after all, because when you have something like cancer, everyone tells you their worst case scenario stories.

These folks don’t mean to be  passion killers and it is up to us, people who are devoted to leading a passionate life to be passionate even and especially when it doesn’t make sense to the rest of the world.

+ + + + +

I was so excited to find this challenge, #31Days hosted by The Nester. You still have a couple days to join. I'm doing the "Personal Endeavor" category with a whole bunch of other cool people.

Consider spending a part of your October with us!

 

 

 

Julie Jordan Scott is a writer, performance poet, Mommy and mixed-media artist. Her word-love themed art will be for sale at First Friday each month in Downtown Bakersfield. Check out the links below to follow her on a bunch of different social media channels, especially if you find the idea of a Word-Love Party bus particularly enticing.

Please stay in touch: Follow me on Twitter: @JulieJordanScot    

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And naturally, on Pinterest, too! 

© 2013

 

 

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Longest Follow-Up Study Finds Ipilimumab Effective in Treating Melanoma

How Breaking the Rules Brought Delight to Our Geocaching Treasure Hunt

Kathie reaches into the wall of the chimney to find our Happy Jack geocaching surprise

We were in for a shock that morning.

 

I have only actively disagreed with my parents twice in my entire life.

Both times my parents allowed me to “take the reins of the moment” the outcome has been both memorable and wonderful.

It happened again last week, this time my disagreement was with my Dad rather than my Mom.

Dad has turned my children and me into geocachers. This was the first time we went geocaching with Mom along and Dad had a big day of finding hidden treasures around Flagstaff all planned out. If you don’t know what geocaching is, the website gives a short definition like this: “Geocaching is the real-world treasure hunt that's happening right now, all around you. There are 2,170,289 active geocaches and over 6 million geocachers worldwide,” and then invites visitors to get more information here. 

When we visit my parents in Flagstaff my Dad takes us on adventures where we hunt for hidden treasures tucked away in surprising places. Our first stop on this trip was to a chimney, standing on its own,  in what was once a part of a place called Happy Jack’s – a logging camp that had been defunct for more than fifty years.

Dad meant for it to be a “practice cache” since he was the one who initially hid it, he couldn’t find it again, but the kids and I could use it as a sort of “warm up.”

Katherine shows the cache treasure while Samuel inspects the hiding space.

It was unfortunate to discover there were people camping there by the fireplace when we arrived for our treasure hunt. “Who are those people camping at our site?” we lamented. I was intrigued by the rogue chimney and did not want to turn away from it. I could tell from my father’s voice that he intended to turn around and not find the treasure he had hidden for the first time several years ago.

 

When I do things in direct opposition to my parents I have to speak and act simultaneously or else I get scared.

After all, when I go on these adventures with Dad, my proper “don’t bug your father” behavior is so extreme I don’t even confess when I need to use the restroom, so hearing myself insist, “I still want to get out and find it,” while cracking open my door and putting my foot out took me by complete surprise.

The thing is, when someone takes control, it seems like the rest of the group falls into place. It is like the Improv rule of agreeing with whatever your scene partner does. If one of the geocaching team insists, the others just fall into the line of energy tossed out by the most insistent.

We weren’t expecting one of the campers to ask, “Are you Pinecone Joe?” after Katherine discovered the cache wedged into the chimney itself. Dad was so surprised to be asked about his geocaching identity his glee spread across his entire face. Turns out both the campers and their family members had been curious about the mysterious list of people’s names in an altoids box and purposefully hidden in the happy jack chimney, but didn’t imagine they would ever find the man who seemed to have buried the treasure and then deserted it.

Samuel enjoys the fire the Campers built at "our" spot. Lovely!

Dad mentioned his delight at this connection throughout our visit to Flagstaff. It may have been the highlight of his week or month.

I could continue and talk about metaphors or launch into a writing prompt, but instead I’ll just sit with the memory of being brave enough to disagree, take action, and let Dad experience his highlight of the week while the rest of ours made our own memory and our own moment.

There is time for metaphors and life coaching and deep pondering tomorrow and the next today.

Today my smile at the memory is enough.

* * * * *

 

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© 2013

Fear and One of My Frequently Appearing "Friends"

Samuel actually AGREED to be in this photo. He liked being with "the girls" - no wonder! This is at the Hollywood/Highland complex where the Chinese theater is. Those people "looking out" are checking out the Hollywood sign.

I have this unfortunate friend I now refer to as “My Nervous Cough.” The first time I had it on an ongoing basis was in college, when I would actually wake up from sleeping and not be able to catch my breath. I would cough and cough and not breathe and not breathe and not breathe. The doctor at the infirmary found nothing.

I used to think my nervous cough was only mine, like there was only one Shamu. The day I overheard a woman from San Antonio saying THEY had Shamu at their Sea World I was so bewildered. How can there be more than one?

It is true: chronic coughing like I have with “MY Nervous Cough” is actually caused by fear and anxiety. There is even a name for it. Something Neuropathy, but I got freaked out while reading about it so I don’t remember the name. Not relevant to the story, anyway.

Just yesterday I was in Hollywood with my children, fifteen-year-old Emma and eleven-year-old Samuel. We also had two of Emma’s friends in our group. I was enjoying myself whole heartedly but when Emma and her friend, Sabrina, didn’t get a drink along with their fries and snack wrap, I had a minor/major coughing incident.

I had planned to take a sip of the drink because I was very thirsty and I hadn’t remembered there are plentiful places in the Hollywood/Highland complex that had inexpensive drinks.

I heard myself say, “You didn’t get anything to drink?” and bam. I huge cough barked up through my throat. A few more coughs and I left the table. I wanted to ask for a water but have you seen the lines a McDonald’s on Hollywood Boulevard generates? Seems everyone else had the same idea to use the restroom for the fee of fries and a snack wrap.

I stood, hand on my chest, coughing. I closed my eyes and “talked myself down” in my head. “Everything is fine. You are going to be fine.”

The last time I had a coughing fit related to a trip to Los Angeles it got so bad I vomited. Yes, it can get this bad.

All because of fear and anxiety and after yesterday, it seems to happen when I feel as if I have a lot of responsibility and the whole world might collapse if I let anyone down.

I talked about it to my former therapist, Adam, who was the finest therapist I have ever had the privilege to have such a relationship. Unfortunately he was also a PhD intern and has since left Bakersfield for… Los Angeles, ironically.  I remember telling him how I finally got this crazy cough under control.

You can imagine how awkward it feels to see its reappearance, once again.

Uh oh, my throat is getting dry and scratchy and… oh, no. Not again.

# # #

This post was prompted by my friends at The Scintilla Project.

The prompt went like this: Fears come in different sized packages. Tell the story of a time you had a face a fear, big or small.

 What you just read was my story. What is yours?

 

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Are You Ready to Risk & Rock & Roll?

Today from BlogHer's NaBloPoMo:

If you didn't have to be concerned about money or expertise, what would be your ideal job?

I never want to have a job again. I do have my ideal life work is exactly what I do now (write, teach, create art, life coach, speak, Mommy… ) but if I had all the money in the world to promote myself (and the time, remember yesterday’s bullies!) and a personal assistant to work with me on the stuff I don’t like to do, I could be helpful to so many MORE people.

I would like to do MORE of what I do and LESS of what I don’t want to do.

It is pretty simple:

1. Eradicate Belief Bullies  (I wrote about this yesterday) by Taking Passionate Action
2. Follow up according to the results of #1
3. Find more new and creative ways to rock the world that are uniquely me.
4. Continue to tweak, revitalize and restore.

Are you ready to see it happen?

I am ready to risk & rock & roll!

 

 

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

What I Did When the Risk Felt More Like a Battlecry than a Choice

Everyday my son walks onto campus, I know he feels he is taking a risk, too. My trust in him fuels his courage.

"I have come to believe over and over again that what is most important to me must be spoken, made verbal and shared, even at the risk of having it bruised or misunderstood."

Audre Lorde

I almost started this post with “I believe in risk-taking” but that sounded so ridiculous and preachy I changed my mind.

My relationship with risk-taking is at times like concrete is to Los Angeles. At other times, my risk-taking is like a tidal wave in the desert. What I consistently find is my risk-taking is somewhere in the middle of those two extremes or more like the ubiquitous Los Angeles pavement when I take the time to practice and even seek out risk.

I’m going to share very brief summaries of two risk-taking adventures that paid off, one creatively and one in advocacy.

My son’s earliest education had thorns on its branches, put there, sadly enough, by inept educators. Once I stumbled into the realization my son was on the autism spectrum after some severe kindergarten behavioral episodes and then a flat out refusal to be confined in his first grade classroom, I went into full force risk-taking on behalf of my son.

I am the typical Mama-Warrior, waging full battle with anyone who has hurt or may hurt my child in any possible way. It caused me pain to see an institution I have admired my entire life – the educational system – become a cast of villains right before my eyes. I fought to get him his free appropriate public education, took a breath, and then joined committees to be a presence and actually align myself with the very people I had been at battle with previously. What happened? My son is treated with deep respect by every educator he encounters. They each know me, not as a “wacked out, irrational Mama” but as an eloquent, passionate, knowledgeable mother who “calls them like she sees them.”

Earlier this year Samuel experienced some severe bullying from his general education classmates. I was called immediately by the principal. The boys who bullied were suspended and expelled less than a week after they returned to school.

My risk, with my knees knocking together, tears in my eyes and a battle cry in my body, has definitely paid off. Staring at Junior High, though, I am more than a little afraid and planning my strategies now.

My creative risk-taking adventure started with me deciding to take a voice class followed by an acting class when the voice classes were over. I didn’t want to take the acting class, but I figured it was like throwing a bone at a dog and it was better than nothing.  It was only two weeks into the acting class I had a transcendent experience, reminding me acting was something I loved until I was eleven years old when I abandoned it. I had buried the love, passion and talent for thirty years.

While still taking the ten week course, I auditioned for A Christmas Story and was cast as Miss Shields, Ralphie’s teacher. It was an awesome jump into theater. Since then I have done many, many plays – mostly good experiences. I have also done some films, some music videos and a commercial or two. I have also combined activism with my art, which has become my favorite creative outreach and I have made some tremendous friends.

It was another risk that definitely paid off.

Even writing about these two risks I took and the ways they served me makes me feel more confident and courageous.

I feel more powerful. I feel more like I can take more risks and as I sometimes do, make a goal of risk-taking as a daily event. They are out there, large and small, each and every day. The more you practice taking risks, the better you get at them especially when you don’t have attachment to how everything ends up. Sometimes risk-taking and risk-failing offers even better lessons than when you are immediately successful.

What risks are on your horizon?

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© 2013 by Julie Jordan Scott

 

Writing at Emily Dickinson's House (see the Yellow Home in the background?

Julie Jordan Scott is a Creative Life Coach, a Poet Performer, a Writer and a Mommy Extraordinaire. Stay in touch with her via twitter or facebook or you may always call or text her at 661.444.2735 to arrange a complimentary coaching session.

Roaring through the Shadows via Write, Paint, Photo, Write, Roar again...Love it....

The prompt today is compliments of Patty Bechtold from the Living Deep Studios. It is a Reverb sort of process but with a slightly different approach. Go check it out - I think you will enjoy it.

During the past year I was thwarted by… 

I’ll call it the Big Ol’ Granddaddy of Juan de la Cruz and his dark night of the soul.

I started with this image:

Thwarted One: Art Journal Seeds for Reverb12

 

 and then went into the studio and came up with this:

Thwarted Two: Painted Melanoma Center in Shadow (WIP)

The circle is my cancer.

The grey is the shadow from my cancer.

Did I mention this is a work-in-progress?

Thwarted Three: Adding some music in a slide & some "germs" and "people"

 

The muddyness is my confusion around my cancer and how I am “supposed” to act now (knowing there is no ‘supposed to’ there simply is… but I also need to listen to those whiney voices and comfort them for just a second so we can work together… the speaker who is whiney… and myself because we occupy the same brain and being cooperative partners rather than jousting mates is a good thing, don’t you think?

Before this thwarting, though, I was still holding onto past stuff because… I got this somewhere in my mountainous reverbing – there is a part of me that is afraid if I get too successful with my professional projects that my life will fall apart… again. It’s been such a lifetime movie rollercoaster ride since my last feeling of consistent professional success.

I got up to make myself a cup of ginger tea and I got the nudge to free write on the five words that were on my original pencil image.

Ugly: I have a scar on my face now that I am conscious of most of the time. I still don’t have feeling in it like the other side of my face. It feels weird and it still looks weird. I feel as if the possibility of having another surgery due to it not healing right is just another way for the world to prove to me that I need to be punished. Punished for what, for being?

Ummmm. Your past choices haven’t been paid for yet and your continuing stupid choices….

Shut up.

Well?

No one is perfect. I have so far to go, but going as far to scar my face just doesn’t fit. This is a permanent disfigurement.

Well are you inferring disfigured people deserve to be disfigured? What about the girls in Juarez who get boiling oil on their faces. Do they deserve that?

Ugly is having a fight with myself. My scar, my wound, is for now in the shape of a heart. Some of my friends joke with me and say, “If you have to have another surgery just have your surgeon finish off the heart.

Yes, well, it isn’t their face.

Most people don’t even notice my scar. My hair covers a lot of it and often times people are unobservant. I need to choose to wipe away the negative comments that people said to me without thought earlier on in my recovery.

ROAR! I haven’t had a big bad ass breakdown yet. Nor have I had a break up with my face. I wonder if breaking stuff would help? Maybe create an art project of broken china or something so I could just smash stuff until I laugh.

Not a bad idea.

Or maybe it is a remembering of Helen Reddy's "I am Woman!"

Attachment: I need to not be attached to meaning surrounding either my cancer, my face, melanoma, more cancer popping up… I would love to hang out in that “eh, no big deal” camp where yes, I put sunscreen on daily, but I am not obsessed with every freckle that pops up. And besides, my doctors have my back. This is something I also need to remember. My care is good. They are… invested in my progress, not in making me uglier or more unhappy.

Fault: It isn’t my fault that I got cancer! This is like having a fight with ugly! It is no one’s fault. Melanoma happens. It may happen to me again. We will take care of it. Let my Pollyanna reign for a bit. And if I go back to having most of my business over the phone, that will be just fine, too. No one will be able to point and laugh or wrinkle their noses and say “Ewwww”… I’ve done it before and was successful. I can do it again and be successful.

I may choose how I respond to it, my melanoma. And how I choose to respond to my new relationship with my new face.

The final one is unforgiveness. I know I am the one I need to forgive. This has been a long road, me forgiving me. Perhaps the cancer adventure is to finally get it… that I may choose to forgive myself well or I may choose to swim around in a vat of psychic pain.

Now that makes my cancer seem like a gift. Interesting.

Remember how I mentioned Juan de La Cruz and his Dark Night of the Soul? I made this photo poster after pondering his being today. Feel free to pin it on pinterest or put it on faacebook or just copy it for yourself to enjoy.

 

Juan de La Cruz shares some Word Love... What Words Can Do for the Heart

My thwarter is a gift. Bring it on, after effects. Bring it on.

 

 

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

How I am starting: December, a New Generation of #Reverb12 and with YOU!

My plan for this series of prompts is to write from them right before I go to sleep, almost like a closing written prayer for the day. Our Reverb12 host from Australia is Kat from I Saw You Dancing.

She asks:

How am I starting?

I am starting with an open heart and an open mind. I am starting with joy and hope.

I am starting with smudges of fear across my cheek. I am starting with tendrils of anxiety between my eyebrows.

I have been “reverbing” in some form or fashion since BestO9 I believe it was initially called. I really should go back and see what I said on Day One for the last few years. I have it all here – but you know what I just realized?

I am starting with a white canvas. With December  1, 2012 waiting for me to live my way to loving each question and reaching out to as many of you as I possibly can and hoping, praying, wishing you will reach back.

I am starting with a bucket of anticipation, lots of paints and crayons and fabric and pages from old books I have painted and are waiting for further reflection.

I am wearing a smock so my “regular clothes” won’t get dirty. My regular clothes in this exact moment are a nightgown and bloomers. I feel very Victorian. I plan to close each night with one of these prompts, since they are coming from Australia so they I am writing into the future, truly.

I am starting with walking shoes on my feet, a camera in my pocket and a pencil and notebook in my hands.

I am starting with you.

I am starting.

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

Parents: Stand with Your Teens - They Will Grow Beyond Most Teen Misunderstandings

I have no recollection of what happened on this day four years ago.

What I know is this: walking alongside my now nineteen-yea-old daughter Emma through her challenges and victories has been satisfying, even moreso, in retrospect. As a parent, it is so important to remember you are in this with your child in the long run, not just in the moment.

Step back to a moment, five years ago....

Emma - my fifteen-year-old daughter -  just called me during her lunch period in tears.

She heard my voice and the tears and way-too-fast-to-understand speech started flowing.

This hasn’t happened in a while and my instinct is still to run to the school, scoop her up, bring her home and let her learn about negotiating socially later.

Instead, when she needed to get off the phone she quickly caught her breath, immediately sounded back to her normal self and hopefully is able to move along without losing any more of her day.

This has the makings of a very long weekend if she isn’t able to move along.

I may have to warm up the, “Sometimes you have to apologize for the misunderstanding instead of apologizing for what they want an apology for that you know you didn’t do” speech. She didn’t hear my “Do you know what it means to be positional?” speech at all.

I don’t even think she recognized how I slid into my “mental health” voice, the tones and cadence I used to use when my clients with severe mental illness were on the edge of escalating.

She is fifteen now and her outbursts have become more rare, but they are still there.

The absolutes gather steam, the hope balloon deflates and she is temporarily tossing about in the sea of teen pain and sorrow deeper than I can recognize right this moment.

None of those standard lines like “Things have a way of working out” or “It will blow over” or “If you just suck it up and apologize it will make your life so much easier” will work right now.

I just have to stay reasonably comfortable until 3:15 when I go fetch her from school and pray that between then and now something – anything – resolves favorably.

 

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© 2012/2016 by Julie Jordan Scott

  Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire.

Please stay in touch: Follow me on Twitter:   and on Periscope for writing prompt, tips and inspiration daily created to ignite your artistic rebirth.

Be sure to "Like" WritingCampwithJJS on Facebook. (Thank you!)

  Follow on Instagram  And naturally, on Pinterest, too!      © 2015/2016

Julie Jordan Scott inspires people to experience artistic rebirth via her programs, playshops, books, performances and simply being herself out in the world.  She is a writer, creative life coach, speaker, performance poet, Mommy-extraordinaire and mixed-media artist  whose Writing Camps and Writing Playgrounds permanently transform people's creative lives. Watch for the announcement of new programs coming through the end of 2016.

  To contact Julie to schedule a Writing or Creative Life Coaching Session, call or text her at 661.444.2735

  Check out the links above to follow her on a bunch of different social media channels, especially if you find the idea of a Word-Love Party bus particularly enticing.

 

 

 

New Beginnings: How to Start Again with Wonder & Grace

New Beginnings: These are the tunes October, 2012 is singing to me. I am participating in an almost ridiculous amount of writing events this month… and it feels just right.

If you haven’t met me before, you have no idea that in the past two and a half weeks I found out I had melanoma, had surgery, and have been recovering from surgery. The right side of my face has been rebuilt. In public I wear scarves.

Today one of my friends told me I looked very exotic!

I like to think that’s the truth. I just don’t want people to get grossed out upon seeing me or feel embarrassed about how I look without the scarf right now.

I have built a completely new relationship with my face since this all started.

And as I listen more to my body, I am following a few dictates that would have helped me to start following years ago.

• Monitor and closely nurture the inflow/outflow of energy you receive from being with certain people, attending certain events, and doing events of any sort, even if they seem like tasks that appear to not cause an expenditure of energy. Everything expends energy. Some things bring me a positive inflow or it depletes me. Neither is good or bad, each one simply is what it is:  an energy expenditure.
• I have been saying YES or NO with conscious thought based upon the inflow/outflow of energy. I have gotten very good at saying MAYBE and then confirming yes or no right up until the moment of whatever it is begins.

• Having a daily plan or possibility list is more comforting and inspiring than I ever knew it could be, especially when framed NOT with MUST do, but as options like different kinds of chocolate ice cream. Sure, I love chocolate ice cream but sometimes I turn down Rocky Road yet welcome Mocha Fudge.

 Did I mention during these last few weeks - both before and after diagnosis - I have been creating OctPoWriMo - 31 Poems in 31 Days? Yes, I know. Nutty. I am beginning one of several writing challenges. It has my passion fire burning, crackling clean and bright.

What relationship do you have with New Beginnings?

What are some of the ways to make New Beginnings be a cause of increased celebration for you?

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© 2012 by Julie Jordan Scott

This is my first post (of 31!) for the October Ultimate Blog Challenge. Watch challenge posts which will include Writing Prompts, Writing Tips and General Life Tips and Essays.

  Julie Jordan Scott has been a Life & Creativity Coach, Writer, Facilitator and Teleclass Leader since 1999. She is also an award winning Actor, Director, Artist and Mother Extraordinaire. She was twice the StoryTelling Slam champion in Bakersfield. She leads Writing Camp with JJS & this Summer will be traveling throughout the US to bring this unique, fun filled creative experience to the people wherever she finds the passion & the interest.

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Just a Glimpse of How My Friends Show What It Takes to Be Exceptional Friends

Today’s Autumn Blog Challenge Prompt – Perfect! Sept 26-How to be a good friend

I saw this prompt and a quiet smile crossed my face.

This week has been so abundant in good friends. Love personified crossed my path over and over and over again and now, I have a heart shaped scar to prove it. One of my friends saw my scar last night and said, “Who else would get a scar shaped like a heart but you? It is absolutely perfect!”

I was diagnosed with melanoma two weeks ago.

Last week, it was carefully removed from my face in the very able hands of a surgeon.

With my friends I formed “Team Nora” (the name I gave my melanoma) with each member of the team contributing to both my care but also the care and feeding of my children.

Here is a list of some of the ways they were not only good friends, but exactly what I needed… in no particular order.

1. They did my MomSchlep for me. They swooped in to pick up both Emma and Samuel and sometimes provided them after school love-and-care both during my surgery but also after my surgery when I was recovering.  Without complaint. This is my least favorite Mom duty and I was so grateful to be able to let it go.
2. They fed me. Late on Thursday night, I was cooked a feast of scrambled eggs and brussel sprouts. It was the most delectable meal I had eaten in the past decade. Well, at least in that moment. The primary ingredient? Love. I had homemade soup and challah bread delivered to me. Food Love says so much to an aching body.
3. They read me poetry because it was what I wanted.
4. They sat with me, quietly, while I slept.
5. They read my aftercare instructions and nagged me to stick with them.
6. They helped me with wound care.
7. They thought of me before anything or anyone else.
8. They took me on rides and understood when just driving around town wore me out, much more than I ever imagined.
9. Instead of saying “Let me know what I can do for you,” they offered suggestions. When I am sick or having a hard time, half the time I have no idea what I want.
10. They sat and waited while I had surgery and talked to the doctor on my behalf. Can you imagine? PLUS they attended and will attend follow up appointments so that I don’t miss anything. Sometimes when you are the patient it is hard to “get” everything. I am usually the advocate. It is beyond words wonderful to have people stand by me in advocacy.
11. Distant friends prayed. And added me to prayer lists. They sent good vibes, healing energy and one friend did distance Reiki for me and even though I don’t exactly know what that means, I am grateful to the generous outpouring.
12. Love overflowed. Bountifully. And continues to flow. I am blessed by people who are being SUCH good friends! 

Have you been looking for a poetry writing challenge created within a community of poets whose goal is to encourage, inspire and share thoughts with one another? Join me at  OctPoWriMo Now - only days before we begin... and a bunch of tips are on the website now to get you started!