Am I off on a spiritual bender, or running away from the battle?
A little of both, I think.
By this time next week all my tests will be done, and I'll have a much better idea of what's going on -- maybe. At least the main trajectory of my short-term future should be resolved. I hope.
Anyway: don't expect much of anything for a while. By way of explanation, I offer this:
There's a Maya Angelou quote posted at DS2's preschool:
You cannot use up creativity. The more you use the more you have.
In spite of the fact that Angelou is a poet, and therefore one would assume a very creative person, she obviously doesn't know what the hell she is talking about. Or maybe it's just me. I have known for seeming ever that I only have so much energy to produce on any given day. When I was working full-time as a programmer, and spent 10 or 12 hour days pounding out code and debugging and writing up specs, I wrote nothing else. Literally. Maybe I did a little knitting or some embroidery while I watched television, but that was it in terms of creativity. At the end of those days, I was wrung out. Not only did I have nothing to say, I had no energy left with which to say anything even if I thought I did have something to say.
The huge gear-shift from full-time geek to part-time geek to full-time mom left me with an imbalance in my creative impulse and available creative outlets, and eventually (through the prodding/encouragement of my catalyst/muse, my sister J), I started writing again. After years of having nothing to say (I've always been a facile, often shallow writer), I found myself having accreted enough experience to have stories worth telling and to form opinions that were worth expressing.
So, what? I am at a difficult place now: stuck. I can see myself going in about 6 different directions, some which will leave me no energy to write, some which see me taking on writing as a real "job." I'm itching to make the decision but everything hinges on what happens next week in Houston.
We watched "House" tonight and I got the creepiest feeling when they were drilling into the patient's skull to get the brain biopsy. I said to DH, At least with all the crap I've been through, they haven't had to drill a hole in my brain, but internally I added: yet while at the same time having this horrifying thought that my cancer could have easily climbed right up the lymph vessels along my carotid artery and be nestled cozily in my brain even now. That is the very worst thing about having cancer in your neck, you know. It's way too close to the brain.
And there it is: I would like very much to be done with this cancer, but I'm sure I'm not. Oh, how lovely it would be, to be wrong!
So for now, a retreat. I don't know where this blog will end up. It's not exactly a waste of time or energy for me -- it has its uses -- but it is definitely a creativity sink, and I need to channel my creativity more effectively if anything is ever going to come of it.