Jaime Mathis and The Words

We were up at 4am in order to arrive at the hospital by 5:30am. Showing up for brain surgery before you normally even think of waking up draws certain parallels to international travel. It's as though long journeys seem to feel obligated to administer a pre-test of fortitude and conviction before extensive adaptations begin. As if to say, "Do you REALLY mean to go through with this?" It was an excited sleep that preceded the early wake up, which essentially means, not much was had. But nevermind--when Tobias is ready to do something, neither hell nor early mornings will stand in his way. And he was ready. There is a certain level of Fate that buoys you in times like these, rather like stepping into the inevitable flow of a tide pulling you out to the deeper sea. In these moments, the action required is to go with the current and trust that your lungs will continue to act as a preserver. So far, they are standing us in good stead. Being awake for brain surger...

Change can really suck.  Unexpected change can amplify an already uncomfortable experience to levels that seem impossible. I know whereof I speak.  Many of you can probably relate when I say my life has been a series of unanticipated changes.  For many years, I thought I was special in this. That somehow, I, and perhaps my immediate family, had been earmarked by Fate to receive a lion's share of daunting challenges without sufficient preparation.  Starting with cancer at 8 years old, I had all the proof I needed that life was not going to play predictable or nice--so I hunkered down to prepare for a lifetime of being the "one in a million chance" of having unwelcome discomfort, illness, or tragedy befall me without warning.  Sound dismal? It kind of was.  Being raised in a conservative Christian home, I had Satan and sin to blame for the struggles and pain of being human, but that did little to relieve me in the moment to ...

This post is for my healing and for all the other women who have experienced miscarriage and not known how to talk about it, if it's alright to talk about it, or felt completely side-swiped by the actual process of releasing the possibility of life.  There's a lot of blood when you have a miscarriage at 12 weeks. According to the How Pregnant Are You sites, the fetus is the size of a lime. I have to say these words because for the last 36 hours I've been bleeding and numb. Yesterday I cried and groaned and wailed for a half hour because that was what came out of my body along with used up air and spent effort creating life. I really wasn't expecting this. I woke up Thursday morning with a little dried blood on my legs but thought, "That's ok, I'm having a child. This is nothing to be concerned about." I was so sure I was having this baby in spite of all the reasons my body could have to let it pass. Yes, my life is filled with uncertainty rig...

A blank page can be as intimidating as waiting for an inevitable change to take place. I sit here, staring at empty space, a thousand thoughts in my head, a million feelings racing around my body and wonder, "How do I decide which ones to apply to the canvas? What makes one more valuable than the other?" Ultimately, the choice rests with me. What I decide to focus on. What I give importance to by simple virtue of my attention. It seems like such an innocuous thing, what I spend my time thinking about, which feelings I choose to name and sit with...but the longer I watch how reality coalesces, the more clear it becomes that my one Ring of Power is all about the Eye. Inner and Outer. What do I choose to look at. Because no matter what shows up...Trump or global warming or brain tumors or babies, I get to decide what to hone in on. As many of you know, life in the Eld-Mathis family has been beset with rainbows and thunderclouds since the beginning of this year. You've al...