Put my life in good order, O my God –Thomas Aquinas

PHILADELPHIA – First thing every morning I have a bowl of oatmeal, ground flaxseed, almonds and fruit, accompanied by a cup of tea. It’s one of the few routines in my day.

This morning I was greeted with a breakfast smoothie. My daughter Julie blended kale, organic oats, pumpkin seeds, banana, mango, coconut and keefer, topped with blueberries. I don’t often eat greens for breakfast –images of Green Eggs and Ham come to mind –but this was cool and satisfying.

I’m at her row home in Philly, built a hundred years before our own. Last spring I didn’t know if I would travel anymore. This summer I’ve thrived, enjoying reunions with my siblings, children and some nieces and nephews. More evidence I’m doing well.

They all want to keep me that way. As fall arrives, health is a big motivator. It’s why I came here by Amtrak. The train sways more than a car but is a stress-free, inexpensive way to travel across the Allegheny mountain range and Pennsylvania’s “amber waves of grain.”

Fields of drying corn, like migrating hummingbirds and other winged travelers, announce autumn has arrived. Here in eastern Pennsylvania the sun sets about 20 minutes earlier than in our town but wherever we are in the northern hemisphere, evenings of lingering sunlight are slipping away.

Before I left home I trimmed back black-eyed susans and planted mums around the mailbox. It will soon be time for hot cider and cornbread baked in a cast iron skillet. Jim and I ate butternut squash the other night and later roasted the seeds –the tastes and aromas of my favorite season.

Laundry on clotheslines waved in the wind as the train passed by small town backyards, city-scapes and farmland. Feeling on overload, my stomach fluttered over upcoming duties that feel like king-sized sheets too big to fold by myself, haphazardly clothes-pinned to my schedule.

“It’s not enough to be busy,” wrote Henry Thoreau. “So are the ants. The question is, what are we busy about.”

My mentor texted me that quote and the Dalai Lama’s response when asked how to find happiness and fulfillment: “Routines.” Everything I’ve read about living with cancer suggests reducing stress (routines help with this), making peace with ourselves and others, and practicing contentment in a consumer-driven world where we’re continually pushed to desire more.

Deliberately choosing to be glad, seeing each day as more than something to cross off a calendar with an X, is the only sane way to travel though life.

I wonder if this is what St. Paul meant when he penned, “Pray without ceasing.” Be continually grateful on some level of the Spirit’s presence. An attitude of gratitude expresses the sustaining hope that, despite hardship and loss, it’s good to be alive.

Establishing routines take practice. Instead of being hyper-concerned about things I can’t control, I try to keep moving, eat well, think wisely and breath in and out a litany of trust throughout the day:

Walking daily, greeted by blue cornflowers and goldenrod at home; by a multitude of mutts and their owners on city sidewalks. (Breath in.)

God is here. (Breath out.)

Writing my book, thankful I have a publisher and the goal of holding it in my hands. (Breath in.)

God is here. (Breath out.)

Picking and drying herbs before frost steals their essence –basil, rosemary, sage, fennel, chives, dill, mint. (You’ve got the idea by now!)

God is here.

Sharing meals (sometimes surprises!), sorrows and blessings with friends and family.

God is here.

Taking daily chemo pills and keeping monthly appointments for injections that I’d rather skip.

God is here.

Grabbing a couple naps a day is another necessary routine for me and most cancer warriors. It’s challenging, especially when away from home, but this promise holds as much as ever: “…My Presence goes with you, and I will be your rest.” (Exodus 33:14 paraphrased)

Rest is key to healthy routines. Both Olive, Julie and Bob’s happy little blue tick beagle, and our golden doodle Chewie relax every wiggling inch of their bodies after outings. They play hard and rest deeply. Can I learn from them, as well as from the ants?

Lord, teach me it’s okay to move more slowly without struggle or self-condemnation.

Rest energizes me to fulfill my calling, but I never have to do anything alone, not even fold sheets –Jim and I do it together. I have a broad community ready to embrace me. Jesus knows the strains we bear and offers quiet strength: “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28 NIV)

God is in our routines.

In our gratitude.

In our rest.

All will be well.

Texting Thru Cancer/Indiana Gazette

Copyright ©Jan Woodard 2019