It’s my second time round. It was just when I was up and running with the other grown ups too. The Mother’s Day weekend breast cancer diagnosis. May 2015. I’d just gotten enough money to rent a car and visit my family in California. I’d just stop by Dr O’s office to get the biopsy results.
I canceled my only training appointment for the day. My client was kind, said he knew I’d get through this.
The rest is her story. (As opposed to history. Word play amuses me. I’m rethinking that story.)
I climbed the rocks where I do my deepest dives. In my mind. Naked usually. It’s just me and the elements. I got to the top, goosebumps making my sleek body less smooth.
But instead of jumping into the water below, the scene changes and I jump chest out. I have a dress on now. Long and full, blue like the sky’s lightest blue, with a red and black patterned scarf around my neck.
The dress holds my body from the front like a scared child. Behind me it dances its own tune.
This spot. I pause to see it with new eyes. I zoom out and take in the arch of my body, the dress, the leap into miles of nothingness.
I’m being reborn. It squeezes my body to know this. But I squeeze back.
I sink into the relaxation that is the deepest power I know, and I humbly summon my strength.
Photo by Miko Hargett
Words by Miko Hargett
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