Here's to the good times (A thank you letter)

This is a thank you letter


This is a thank you letter to the world that birthed me, that raised me up to become the person I am today, to the trees and the rocks and the flowers and the ocean, to the stars that formed me and then called my name, reminding me that I always belong somewhere, this one is for you.
This is a thank you letter to those who were present that night when I was born, for the doctor who said "It's a girl!", for the nurses who cleaned me up and set me in my parent's arms, who made me the most special, newest human on earth for brief seconds, this one is for you.
This is a thank you letter for my parents who chose life, who decorated my nursery and took pictures of my firsts that would fill my baby book to remind me that I didn't have only lasts, but also firsts, who stood beside my bedside time and time again, tirelessly, late into the night, standing guard like soldiers, this one is for you.
This is a thank you letter to the friends I had growing up, who taught me the basics of human interaction. Even though we were just silly kids, I always believed we could be something more.
This one is for the people who bruised my heart, the ones I can still count off on my fingers. They say you always remember the bad things more than the good things and I guess they're right. I still remember it all. But thank you anyway, because you showed me who I could be.
This one is for the missions team that summer when I was 14, who were there for me when I needed someone, who taught me that love is really the strongest force of all.
This one is for the people who told me I couldn't do it. I proved you wrong, thank you for pushing me to try.
This is a thank you to the poets, the philosophers, the kind souls who touched me with their light and reminded me that we are not alone on this gauntlet, who encouraged me, listened to me, and laughed with me. Without you I wouldn't be half the creative mind I am.
This is a thank you for the friends that saved me, the best friends who remind me who I am even when I forget
For the friends I met when I decided to fearlessly step out of my comfort zone this year, who endured stress and teachers and tests with me, but also so many laughs, debates, questions and who connected with me in such an amazing way
For the people that don't quite fit, who are pushing against labels and boxes, this one is for you
This is for the ones who told me it was ok to be loud, to use my voice, to be passionate and opinionated and fierce
This is a thank you to all the boys I wrote poems about
This is a thank you to all the amazingly strong women who taught me what it means to be a woman, to be strong and smart and kind
Here's to John Green videos on bad days, late night conversations and music
This is a thank you to the doctors who saved me, the friends who saved me, the family that saved me, the words that saved me
This is for the teachers that inspired me, the poets that moved me, the moments that screamed Remember this
Here's to road trips, country music, taking adventures and writing about them
This is a thank you to the boy on the bus that one summer, the boy in the hospital waiting room, the boy in Chapters with a book and headphones, this is for all the people who's stories I've told without knowing their names
You matter
Thank you
Here's to the good times

Peace, Be Still

This week I've been restless.
I ended up in a busy hospital, once again being reminded of this fight that I'm in.
For days I tossed and turned, in physical and emotional pain, repeating to myself over and over that this shouldn't be my life.
But it was and it is the life I was given and as thoughts raced through my mind of all the things I should get done and all the things I should be doing I realized something.
I've been lacking peace.
I read an article about something called guilt away. It's an article I keep coming back to because I tend to have this issue with guilt.
I also tend to be pretty hard on myself, somewhat of a perfectionist when it comes to having everything in a neat little row. I thrive on stress and chaos but I have to be able to manage the stress and chaos.
So last night I was lying in bed thinking about all the school work I'm missing and how I should have been back out there a few days ago pushing myself and how if I really tried I would be fine. (If you couldn't tell, the voices in my head are pretty critical. I'm working on that.)
And I realized that I, in no way, need to feel guilty, about anything. The world will keep turning without me being involved in every little part of it. Teachers will be gracious and friends will understand and the work will still be there when I return. What am I feeling guilty about?
I felt guilty for a really long time. I still feel guilty a lot of the time. And I'm tired of it.
So this morning I was going through that eternally long list of things in my head that I should be doing and I was nudged to check out this blog.
I was feeling pretty restless, pretty anxious, wound up, and the video I watched was on peace.
Peace, be still.
Everything sort of fell into place and I felt myself breathe.
This, life, isn't about anxiety or guilt. And yet I've been stuck in that place.
I've been stuck in a place of anxiety, of trying to micromanage the world and control things, and I forgot about the peace I am promised.
A peace that passes all understanding.
I am quick to forget. I am quick to get caught up in the hamster wheel in my head that spins madly.
I question and I struggle and I fight against that when I finally let peace wrap itself around me like a blanket it feels like an exhale.
This is where I belong. Not in a place of anxiety and control, but in one of rest, one where I can sink back into the provision, the comfort, the promise.
Peace
I am here for a reason. Here, in this place, in this situation, for such a time as this. And when I get wrapped up in where I think I should be, what I think is wrong, not feeling good enough, I am robbing myself of peace. I fall back into what I know: anxiety, fear, guilt.
How long will it take until peace becomes a habit? Until in every moment I can find that golden glimmer of peace that I am promised, the one that feels like an exhale and whispers to me Be still.
Be still, for when life feels hard and trying there is always hope
Be still, for when you do not understand there is a peace that passes all understanding that will cover you
Be still, for in the dark seasons of your heart there is this tiny green shoot called joy stemming from the barrenness, waiting to be noticed in every moment
Be still, for when you feel anxious and tied up in knots, lacking in understanding, there comes love to gently remind you of the truth.
Peace is what is promised to me. It is what transforms the slave into a free man. It is the whisper to my heart in this season.
Peace, Be still. Be still and Know.

The Closet (Living life well)

I sat this morning, cross legged on the floor, and listened to the story of a woman who has cancer.
Hearing her story, it felt like Vietnam and I was a vet. I knew that pain, I'd experienced the wondering when your life is going to end and if this disease is going to kill you and fighting to get better.
I'm in a different place now then I was a year ago. I'm back at school, I'm doing well, I'm stable, I have a life. And yet I'm still not better.
At school and in my now so called normal life very few people know about what I've been through. I don't talk about the medical side of things very much. Partly because I'm in a different place now than I was and partly because it's not relevant to where I am now and partly because for me it's a very personal thing. I'm doing well now but there's still that side of it that is still so raw and fresh.
I'm stable now and able to do so many things but there's not a day when I don't feel something and wonder if I'm getting sick again. There's not a day when I'm not scared that I'm going to lose everything I have right now. I'm walking the line between sick and better. I'm not sick anymore, not like I used to be, but I never will be better.
And this is my life now, finding a way to live and live fully with a chronic illness. Not letting the fear and the what if's rule my life.
Of course I'm still afraid. Of course it's still hard and overwhelming and exhausting and I break down because I don't want to live like this anymore.
I can feel the fatigue in my bones from the trying to be normal and balance my sick life and my normal life and trying to find what works best in terms of me feeling the best and how far I can push things without it getting awful.
I watched a TED talk recently by a woman who was talking about coming out of the closet. She said the closet was anything that was a hard conversation, something you kept hidden.
For me, that life I used to live, that's my closet. It's easier to not talk about it. Easier for me and probably easier for other people. It's easy to pretend that that's not who I am, that being sick isn't still this huge part of who I am. But it is. It has forever changed who I am.
So I think for me part of this new stage of life includes accepting that part of me while making room for the new part of me. I'm still that girl I was a year ago but I'm also someone new. My body is healing, my soul is healing, my heart is healing.
I had this thought that until I got the report that my conditions were cured, there would always be a part of me that was broken. I was living my life in fear of 'what if I get sick again' and I feel like I'm living this double life and it's exhausting. Until I was cured entirely, I believed that part of me was broken. Maybe I still feel like that some days.
But part of this journey is realizing that while I will never be cured, I am well. While I may never be healed, I am healing. Compared to where I was a year ago, I have made amazing progress.
That doesn't mean I'm not afraid. That doesn't mean it's not hard and I'm not exhausted. I still live my life by the clock. I still have to be very in tune with my body all the time. I'm still sick.
But I'm not broken.
I am struggling, but I am whole. I am cracking but it is only because I am growing.
I heard a quote this morning about things in life serving a purpose and then being done. And I feel like that part of my life where I was so sick, it served a purpose. And now I am moving on to this new chapter of my life. I am continually growing and changing. And just because I am shedding layers it doesn't mean I am no longer whole, it just means I am growing new skin, becoming a butterfly instead of a caterpillar.
One of the hardest things for me now has been balancing my 'two lives' and living fully with a chronic illness and not letting fear keep me in one spot. Sometimes I think it would be easier if I was back in that place where I was so sick because I knew what was coming. But that's now where I am right now.
I am here. I am healing. I am growing. I am changing. And while I'm not cured and still am sick and still struggling with that, I'm not broken. I'm not alone. And I'm trying to not fight the current and accept where I am now, surrender to the situation of where I am and not worry, not obsess over what could happen.
Sometimes I think I prefer to stay in my closet and not talk about these hard things because its easier, because it still hurts me to talk about where I was and where I'm headed when so many things are uncertain and while I'm not cured and still struggling every day. But once in a while I think it's necessary to fling open to the door to my closet and talk about where I'm at and where I'm struggling and how my healing journey is going. Because life is not isolation.
So this is my closet, the things I don't talk about. This is learning how to live again with a chronic illness, after you were convinced you were going to die. This is learning to embrace life and trying to live walking that line between sick and normal, between not cured but still well.
I think we all have closets, things we don't talk about. And maybe my closet has sparkly gold walls and maybe your closet has rainbow walls or purple walls or a disco ball, but we all have closets. And I think life wasn't meant to be lived in isolation.
I think part of healing is finding your tribe and finding those things that feed your soul and going with it. And I'm learning. And I'm struggling and I'm embracing and I'm growing and I'm healing and I'm well.

All You Need Is Love

She set her head on the desk and leaned her cheek against the smooth surface and closed her eyes, for a brief minute falling into a world where nothing hurt.

 The legs of his chair banged against the floor as he moved to sit as close to her as the plastic surfaces they sat on would allow, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his cheek against her shoulder.

And this moment was like a drug to her, like an intravenous drip running into her veins restoring her faith in humanity and kindness and beauty and the world slowly and all at once. And his arms around her were like a shelter, a fortress that when the winds raged outside of her windows and the rain beat against the panes and the world was carrying on as if it was in the middle of a hurricane, kept her safe and dry. And inside his arms the world made sense and sometimes when the world is hard all it takes to give you that push to keep going is knowing that someone is on your side.

It’s a pair of arms to go home to after a long day and it’s the hand to hold as you walk through the hallways of a place where everyone is trying to convince you to be someone other than yourself. And it’s those eyes that return you to your center, even when you feel as though you’ve lost your island and you’re lost in this storm with the raging winds and the rain. It’s having a person, someone who believes in you when you don’t quite believe in yourself and someone who reminds you of all the reasons why you’re worth loving when you seem to have forgotten them.

And it’s the harbor and it’s coming home and to her, he was all of that. And as he wrapped his arms around her and ran his fingers through her hair and kissed her pale skin, he was reminding her of the million and one ways she deserved to be loved.

And sometimes the world hits hard and the raging storm becomes a hurricane, a force of nature like no other, and it’s all anyone can do to stay standing. And sometimes the harbor cracks under the pressure and it just becomes two children lost in a storm. And so she cradles his head in her hands, pouring back into him the strength he infused into her. She moves her hands in small, meticulous circles over his ink black hair and her lips are moving but I can’t make out the sound and all of it appears to be like some kind of secret promise. Because when the world hits you hard and knocks you down and it’s all you can do to get out of bed in the morning and still believe in the good and the beautiful, you find safety in company. And where his heart was jaded and broken fit perfectly with the scars and jagged edges on her own and as his strength bore into her, her strength poured into him and it was this dance, a tender game of give and take.

And she sat up and looked him in the eye and she lifted her fingers and placed them on his chest, in the very spot his heart is. And his heartbeat pounded against her hand and in these life giving beats she was reminded of how beautiful life is and of the fragility and tenderness of being tragically human and how sometimes all it takes to believe in yourself is having another person believe in you.

Like two children in a storm they huddled together, creating their own force of nature, their own shelter from the incoming hurricane. With broken pieces and jagged edges and the jaded fragments of themselves that didn’t belong, a safe harbor was built.
With his heartbeat under her fingers and his arms around her waist, she found the courage within her to calm even the deadliest sea. She found a thread called beauty and a string called hope and a piece of ribbon labeled love and she used them to stitch up whatever had been inside of her that had broken.

And I guess they had been right when they said all you need is love.


Sometimes you have moments when you lose yourself. Among piles of homework and crowded halls and the lack of sleep and the infection that is taking its toll, you become someone you didn't know you could be a few months ago. Instead of thriving you're merely surviving and life becomes a gauntlet run of sorts, an obstacle course, something just to get through.
I woke up this morning not wanting to wake up. I hit the snooze button a few too many times. My stomach was in knots as I sat in my first class, untying the knot that had been made of the apron strings.
And in these moments, when life becomes just another task to check off your to-do list, you can forget about the beauty of humanity and the beauty in the world and all that has the potential to stir something within you and make you scream "Yes! I felt that. And I am more than just a collection of cells and tissues, I am a person."
I was sitting in the library, looking at a text book I wasn't reading, when I saw them. Two people sitting a few yards away from me. And inside of me they sparked a story.
They reminded me of the most beautiful thing, something I had forgotten as I paced in the trenches and was tossed around by a life that feels like you're juggling too many plates and sooner or later something is going to come crashing down.
They reminded me of the beauty in being tragically human, in being vulnerable and being fragile. And I felt something stir inside of me, something that reminded me that I, too, am a part of this human race and within me is the potential for that kind of beauty and that kind of love.
And life is hard and exhausting but it is also beautiful, if you look.
And I want to look. I want to see people that make me stare, unable to look away, and that make me fall in love with the world all over again, that stir within me stories and feelings that remind me that yes, I am human, and yes, this is what it means to be alive.
Sometimes, in the middle of an ordinary day when life seems un-ordinarily  heavy, people come around who spark within you a fire that you can use to warm yourself and regain strength. They remind you that life is beautiful, and they make you fall so in love with the world and these people and this moment and this feeling that you can't even breathe.

So, to the couple in the library, thank you. Thank you for reminding me of the beauty that still exists, and for lighting a fire of strength and passion inside of me when I felt like I was slowly losing (myself, this battle, my hope, passion, strength and love).
Sometimes, if you open your eyes and look up, people will surprise you. There will be beauty, enough to remind you that you are human and of the reason that you do this day in and day out.
Become a beauty seeker and see love, and be love, and let it penetrate your being and then reflect it back out into the world.
Because sometimes all you really need is love.

I was asked to do a guest post for my friend Crystal's new blog with the topic "Keep Walking." It was published today, and you can check that out here

His Grace is Sufficient... Still

A while ago, in early February before my life kind of fell apart again, I wrote something...
And then everything happened and the world as I knew it fell apart and I wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep until summer.
Gone was that strong, seemingly powerful individual who had wrote about having power and being brave. I can still remember the tenacity and fierceness in my spirit as I wrote those words.
And I don't know where that is right now.
But I wrote that post a while ago and then life changed and I felt less like a lion and more like a mouse.
And then, as I was struggling through my day, I got an email from an author friend of mine.
"Alisha," It said, "I published your post on the blog."
I smiled, expecting to be a little self conscious about what I had written and amazed that words I had written could actually impact people.
Until I read those words again...
Until they hit me and made me realize that those words, meant for so many other people, were also meant for me.
And I hope, maybe, they mean something to you too.
YOU are not alone in this battle, the thief has come to kill and destroy but I know someone who has brought life to the full. And He promises that you will never be alone.
Not when death comes and takes the ones you love
Not when friends leave you and relationships are a mess
Not when your body is plagued with illness and it hurts to just breathe
Not when violation and destruction come
Not when the waves of the storm crash over you and walking on water seems incomprehensible
I know a guy, even then, and my God is the same as He was yesterday, and He will be the same forever and always.

I am remembering these words today, words I wrote back when I felt brave, and words I need today when I feel less than lion hearted.

But He said to me, "My Grace is Sufficient for You, My power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weakness, so that Christ's power may rest on me." 2 Corinthians 12:9

http://tweenyouandme.typepad.com/in_real_life_/2013/03/finally-giving-up-freaking-out-a-post-from-within.html

Soul Food

For months my life was in shambles. I felt like a caged animal, filled with so much emotion I didn't know how to express. I was filled with ancient, primal sounds coming from some place deep within me. I felt trapped, lost, angry and desperate.
I had just been diagnosed. and instead of being happy and relieved (though I was those things too) I was upset. It was another thing I didn't know how to handle. It was the loss of something so precious. It was evidence of where I'd failed. I felt like i was participating in a horror show. I didn't understand. I felt seering loss, a sense of complete brokenness.

It was January 1 when things began to change for me. The first day of a new year usually means making resolutions i know i'll never keep, being sentimental about the year gone by yet excited for a clean slate in the new year. This year is turning out to be different. I feel better then I have in a very long time. I'm finding my 'muchness' again. I'm coming out of the darkness and walking towards the light. I'm happy, and I'm excited for my future.
Not long into January, I discovered a fabulous lady called Kris Carr. She had stablized her chronic stage 4 cancer and her lifestyle was intriguing to someone like me, someone living in desperation with the knowledge that something had to change or I might not make it through this and be ok.
So I started juicing, and eating more veggies, and working to diminish inflammation in my body. And it started working. I started feeling better, my energy improved, the amount of pain I was having lessened, and I just felt better, happy, like I was glowing.

Today was the first time i had an ionic footbath. I was a little nervous, but mostly excited as I stepped into that small room. I submerged my feet into the tub of warm water, and almost instantly toxins began to come out of the pores in my feet and into the water.
I listened to the sounds of the people and things around me. I felt the warm water on my feet, felt it as more warm water was poured in to the bath, as a cup of electrolyte water was placed in front of me. This was the sound of care, the feeling of someone watching over me.
I rolled up the pant legs of my jeans, watching as toxins were released from my body. Toxins released from every part of me.
We made conversation as I soaked my feet, the water changing from golden amber to mud brown with bubbles.
"Drink plenty of water in the next 24 hours," they reminded me.
Care was being given.

This was my first time recieving an ionic footbath. Yesterday, as I walked through the aisles of the health food store, I saw a poster. Holistic health is something i find intriguing, and so when I saw the sign I was ready to give it a try. Emotionally speaking, when I discovered holistic health and this kind of medicine that wasn't just about symptoms, I was crawling on my hands and knees. I was exhausted from trying to reign in my emotions, faituged from fighting an uphill battle with grief. Natural medicine, for me, wasn't about possibly improving my symptoms and feeling better. It was about pure survival. It was knowing that if I didn't do something I was going to get smaller and smaller until I was barely a speck in a microscope.
On December 31, it was the worst day and the best day. It was the day I knew I couldn't fight anymore. I was desperate. I was tired of fighting, tired of pretending to be ok, tired of living in this place of constant grief. Was it my own fault that I was feeling like this? Was I not thankful enough? Maybe, like some people seemed to think, if I was just happier I wouldn't be feeling like I just lost one of the most precious things in my world, like death had just come and settled in to my body.
I say it was also my best day because after curling up on the couch and watching a movie and crying and wondering what i was going to do now, I watched the sunset out of the big window in our family room. It was the most beautiful sunset, with colors of pink and golden and purple and wisps of blue. It was the day I began googling and accidentally stumbled upon an article about some celebrity who had tried a natural diet. I was intrigued, and read more, and more.
So I decided to try. Things couldn't get any worse, and I had nothing to lose. So in a matter of days I began juicing, and eating more veggies, then slowly cutting back on my animal products. The holistic approach to my health wasn't just about my physical symptoms, though. I began feeling lighter, feeling better, which gave me the energy to finally sift through all those emotions inside of me I'd kept buried for so long. Finally i had a license to feel all of these things.
So, 3 times a day, I have felt there, standing over my juicer as veggies spun out of control, over the stove as ingredients mixed together, most of the time to create something that would nourish my body and also, in turn, my soul. As I scour the internet, looking up new holistic health plans, I let myself dream of a new future for myself.
When I say this new life style helped me, I'm not just saying it improved my disease related symptoms (though it did.)  I was in a coma and I got diagnosed and that's traumatic and awful and it's not ok for me. Nothing can make being sick not suck for me - not even the love of my amazing friends or talking with other chronic illness survivors or writing or hot bubble baths, though these things are all crucial in my healing journey. Nothing will ever make what I've gone through ok or not traumatic or not suck. but holistic health does something for me. It's something I can control. It gives me the ability to deal with my emotions, or to lose myself and not think while I cook or find new delicious recipes or remedies.
For so long I've worked so hard to take care of everyone else. But this is me taking care of me. it's feeding not only my body but my soul. it gives me control in a life where things are always needed from me.

I had my first ionic footbath today, and it was a release. as toxins poured out of my feet, something inside of me released. Care was being provided. While my life still spins chaotically and things are still needed from me always, natural medicine gives me stability. It's restored my faith in myself.
Today, as I rinsed off my feet, wiping all the brown sludge from my ankles, the lady who was doing my footbath said to me, "I don't say this to a lot of people but I have a feeling you're going to change the world."
I smile at the thought. Maybe I am. But right now I am changing my world. And, for now, that is more than enough.