Stillness

So much of my time these days is spent in stillness. First it was the stillness of waiting, an oppressive, weighty stillness on the edge of too much. Waiting for the news that would tell me how to stay alive.

Now I am in a new stillness. The stillness of knowing is another kind of waiting. Still because I cannot do as I am accustomed. My strong able body now threatens to break if I do not hold still.

Only a few months ago life was buzzing all around and in me. Now, even through a mild winter I feel as if I am cloaked under a heavy blanket of snow. All my senses muffled and stillness all around and through me. My life as if veiled in a dream and I cannot wake up.

Does the cancer know to be still? What chaos may be galloping through my bones while the rest of me remains so still? I know only what I can see and feel. This tells me to be patient with my body and enjoy the quiet time, as I lift my head and notice; it is not so quiet after all. I am alive.

-Gwyn Michael

[photograph by Gwyn Michael]