Curls and words in the rear view mirror.

My journey beyond the cancer seas.

Amusing title, random and curious. That is where I am this week. After the past few weeks and the surges of activity followed by crashes, both physical and emotional, I realised that there is a thread. A thread of an activity that has run through this whole journey and gives me infinite solace and peace. Whether I am up or down it never ceases to soothe my soul. It makes sense of my process and gives others insight into the strange twists and turns.

It is my writing.

How blessed I feel to have this in my life, and even more blessed to have an outlet to get the words out to you all.

Its not just the blogs that come each week. Its also the first draft manuscript of my book that has now gone out to numerous kind souls to read and offer critique upon. It is scary to have ones creation out in the world, even at this level. The hope is that it will be deemed good enough for the next stage of approaching publishers and agents. It is a curious process, as much because it is my first foray into this arena, as it is because the work itself is driving the progress. I know that may sound odd, but truly the words that coalesced to come together over this past year about my journey through cancer, are whispering their wishes to me. They want to be out there, even if that is via self publishing. Though they clearly want to test the bounds on publishing houses first, before they reach that conclusion.

I just feel like I am along for the ride, that I am the vehicle or rather the driver who is driving the words to where they need to be. I never really understood this would be a part of the process and that if allowed they would take on a shape of their own, to which I am in service.

Accompanied by this is the journey with my hair. Honestly, it also has a life of its own that I am in humble abeyance to. You see since it started to grow back after chemo, it is utterly changed. No longer the wild vaguely manageable waves of yesteryear, now its this odd array of tight curls that is showing no sign of levelling out. I look more like the head on a Greek statue, or a poodle, and its very disconcerting when I come upon myself in the mirror. I have even been pushed to find ‘product’ to tame the strange evolving mass. That was an interesting exploration and suffice to say I settled for coconut oil after shampoo in the end. It was the simple option. No amount of flattening has any effect, and woe betide the use of brushes of any kind, unless I want a halo of fluff shimmering around my head.

In both instances, I can see the hair and the manuscript of words sat on the back seat waiting for me to take them to where they need to be. I smile with rye amusement as I peer at them through the proverbial rear view mirror in the vehicle of my life. In the care taking I am learning valuable and odd new skills. Ones that I never anticipated I would need this lifetime. Very random indeed and it all adds to the weirdness I feel about my changed form and changed creative flow. It would seem I have acquired teenagers of sorts. They certainly ask a lot. But between you and me, I don’t mind.

Small price to pay for being alive.