This time of year I have often become mildly depressed,

sometimes with consciousness of it and sometimes not, and right now I can feel my body shift into a kind of slow, hibernational mode, but I'm not depressed at all. I feel very close to God and very grateful. I feel very clear. I feel like my practice of being present is taking hold in a very powerful way, my practice of noticing. It's been 5 weeks now that my life has been out of any regular order, first the lice, then George's surgery, then George's recovery, then this week June's been sick. All of my plans stop and start; adjustments have to be made. Frustration and exhaustion has welled up in me. And then I've noticed those feelings of frustration or exhaustion, and I've emptied them from my body. I've breathed in and felt myself surrounded by God's presence, held, open to receiving blessings in the midst of what's going on. Just really, after cancer, the imperfections of life are just imperfections of life.

And actually I want to stop saying after cancer, referring to my experiences now as "after cancer," because it's more than that I am a survivor, it's actually about the process, the way that I survived. Which is that I went through cancer allowing myself to be vulnerable and in that place, I opened to God with a faith and trust that I hadn't gone to before. I'm ready to own that now, thank you very much.

And I know that surrender maybe sounds like letting go of control and I know that you may be reading this thinking sure she feels close to God, who doesn't call out for God in those liminal moments, when the border between death and life are so unclear and

to that I want to say I don't think that I could have understood this experience before it happened and to that I say that I have felt God's presence with me since I was a child and never knew how to articulate it exactly and to that I say I have always been a seeker and to that I say I am finally able to write and talk about God with no self consciousness, even if maybe here, now, struggling to write what I've been feeling I'm not making much sense?

Am I? Maybe I can come back to this feeling and maybe I can make more sense of it or write in images, write a poem. Now I just want to capture it, to say that in late October and early November 2009, as the days started getting darker and as my son went under anesthesia, twice, and then back to the hospital again, that during that time, I felt held up by God and surrounded by love and the purpose of my life became clearer.
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A blessing that I want to record: Sandra, Fred's sister, has been around and helping us with child care quite a lot. It has been the hugest blessing. Sandra told me something June said the other day that made me feel like I am being the mother that I want to be: Sandra had trouble working the VCR and said she was sorry to the kids that she couldn't get their movie on. June said to her, "That's okay, Aunt San, my mommy says it's okay to make mistakes."

Because so much of what is happening in me now is about forgiveness, I just felt so elated to hear June internalizing and applying this idea that we all make mistakes.

For me, I see that one of my biggest mistakes has been constantly pushing myself to do, to achieve, to act, which has taken me out of being fully present in my life. I am saying now that I have been complicit in that mistake and in noticing this tendency, I have been able to catch myself. And forgive myself when I go of course, which I do almost daily.

June, I should say, is just becoming so totally herself; so magical and imaginative, so loving and outgoing and spunky. I want to give her so much, I want to protect her. I want her never to hide her voice or feel away from God. And I know I can only do so much and that she's at the beginning of her own, wild ride.

But I hope her seeing my happiness in my imperfect life will inspire her to keep at it, keep at her joy and bliss which seem to rise up and meet her wherever she goes.