"To These Hills, I Thee Wed..." or "Product of Insomnia"
Well, I really didn’t think that 2021 could be more challenging than last year, but the reality is settling in for me that this is going to be the hardest year of my life. February 9 is D-Day for my sacred boobees, and I am feeling such a tumultuous mix of emotions: incredible grief over the loss of my breasts; gratitude that I have a good chance at survival; depression over the steepness of the hill I now must climb; incredible fear that there’s more cancer lurking behind hidden doors in the chambers of my physical form; doubt, anger, frustration with the healthcare system...the world. I feel the culmination of our modern consumptive capitalistic culture that has enslaved all of life and spews out toxins where beauty and simplicity were; i feel the glyphosates accumulating, the echoes of DDT...so many pesticides mimic estrogen in the body...and now I have estrogen driven breast cancer, and I am meeting more and more women, who--like me--are “too young” for this shit; but here we are...feeling betrayed by our own bodies; when really it's our culture that has betrayed us. Is it any wonder that patriarchy has played out for thousands of years, and the end result is women’s boobs being colonized by this invader, then chopped off?
I feel unseen in a world based on monetary advancement. Like Rachel Carson, in “Silent Spring,” I have been talking about regenerative agriculture, organic farming, and the need to nurture our planet for my entire adult life. We are intrinsically interwoven with our home...when will people finally realize that as we poison our Earth, so we poison ourselves, and all of life? I ache with disease, as the planet does. This level of empathy is overwhelming at times, and I am amazed at how many tears one woman can shed for all the things being lost…
And, I am so grateful for the outpouring of support. I have been cultivating community for more than 20 years now, and it truly feels like I am at the center of a great big monster pile, like in “Where the Wild Things Are.” I don’t know what I would do without y’all...really! I feel so held and supported, so that in the times that i need to let go and sink to the bottom, I can; because my children and I are held, like a mature forest, full of ready and willing nurse trees, who stand guard and send energy and resources to the member of that community who needs it..we are so strong together!
And I am so grateful to the other survivors I have come in contact with, who are able to put their fists in the air with me and shout “Fuck Cancer!” with tears streaming down our faces. You see, everyone tells me what a blessing cancer can be, and what beautiful gifts will come from it; these are mostly well intentioned folks who have not had cancer. The women I am meeting, all too young for this shit, like myself, are able to say “Bullshit! This sucks!” It’s unfair and unnatural. But the blessings do sneak in. The acute sparkle of frost at sunrise; the feel of my child's arms around me in a hug; the endless notes of encouragement and gratitude i have received that validate my efforts to help orchestrate a midcourse correction for our species, seemingly intent on destroying itself and so much beauty and life with it.
What did I come here to do? What did you come here to do? What do my ancestors ask of me? What is broken that I can mend? What is still whole that I can protect? What can I let go of? What can I hold on to?
Please donate as you can, and share, cuz not only does cancer suck, it is expensive AF, too...love! https://www.gofundme.com/f/marissas-healing-fund
An avid & sometimes obsessed & sometimes nomadic & always wild fermenter & culture shifter...find her scampering in a forest near you!