…and fishing lure designer.

Looking south from the north end ferry dock.
Looking south from the north end ferry dock.

Oh, how I like that! Richard Rohr was writing about someone and described him this way, “independent scholar, teacher, and fishing-lure designer.” Nice, makes you want to meet the guy right away.

Anyway, I am still stuck on the thread of the last few days where I was writing about the “fight against cancer”. Now is the time to get it out there as tomorrow guests arrive for the beginning of the big weekend and I will be lost in trying to give you the report on that.

When cancer was sitting before me like some giant monolithic boogie man, I had to move on it. Yelled at it and watched and saw what happened. Talked to it and watched. Drove wedges into it and watched. Prayed about it and watched. And over time I realized that it wasn’t as scary as it first seemed, that it had cracks that could be exploited, that it was slow and could be outmaneuvered in some ways. What came to me was that there was wiggle room for me.

Not all cancers are the same, not all doctors are the same, not all treatments are the same, not all patients are the same, not all support systems are the same, not all … It goes on. The important thing is to find out the nature of the threat and see exactly what it is for you. Try and strip away the fear of the threat. Try to strip away the general cultural ideas about what cancer is or isn’t.

Put your strengths against it’s weaknesses and exploit anything that presents itself. You are looking for wiggle room. Shoot it full of holes and move into it, move through it. Think about it differently. Get help. Talk about it. Laugh at it, laugh with it.

Be creative with your own personal situation, it’s a do-it-yourself deal.
Looking for wiggle room? Can you go around it? Can you go over it? Probe and watch. What will I try next? And ultimately you could say that I made my life in the wiggle room that I was able to find. Good, I like that.

Well, I hope there is some sense in all that. I remember telling Dr Gold my oncologist early on, “Let’s prove them wrong doc.”

OK, time to go. Make it happen, love, Felipe.

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