“Hmmm…” Nia dried Typist’s brushes. Handles clinked against the glass jar’s bottom as they fell into place. “I don’t think the Louvre will be requesting this one any time soon. Monet might be rolling in his grave.”
Thalia exercised her abs with silent laughter. “Perhaps landscapes are not Typist’s forte?”
Ignoring her friend’s banter about Paintist’s morning practice, Calliope reported findings from her online search. “When I keyed in… All dis-ease begins in the mind… the top search result came back as… All disease begins in the gut — attributed to Hippocrates. I could swear some Eastern sage said all dis-ease begins in the mind.”
“Who ever thought blaming the sick person was a good idea?” Thalia tied a scarf-knot at the nape of Typist’s neck and gave her a gentle shoulder squeeze. “It’s not your fault,” she whispered into Typist’s ear. “It’s not because you… errr, we, ate too much ice cream.”
“Nor is it because you didn’t meditate enough,” said Nia. “You are not out of balance. You are one of the most balanced humans we have ever known!"
“People like to have a reason to point at? They think if they know the why,” said Cal, “… then they believe they can avoid the same fate. Remember what the oncologist said? Dumb luck.”
Thalia continued to speak softly with her hands on Typist’s back. “Here’s what I think. We are strong. Dis-ease has come to us as a teacher, not a punishment. The challenges we face are preparing us for whatever is next. Don’t let those blame games into our head, okay? Stay present.”
“Pope Francis,” Cal nodded. “Rather than a problem to be solved, the world is a joyful mystery to be contemplated with gladness and praise. Yup! Let’s look for the collateral beauty and keep going.”
A word from Typist:
Still feeling pretty great, although chemo is starting to raise heck with the membranes in my nose and mouth.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the stories I allow into my awareness and the beliefs I entertain. For goodness sake, I just published a book titled Flourishing Fictions: Possibilities from A to Z!
Is it possible that we are asked to move through challenges as part of our evolution?
Not all storms come to disrupt your life, some come to clear your path.
~Unknown
Desk sign: “Sometimes I just want someone to hug me and say, ‘I know things are hard right now, but it’s all going to be okay. Here’s a coffee. And a million dollars.’” 😁
Can't do the megabuck or the coffee, but {*{*{*hug*}*}*}!
Splendifferous! And Nia! Don't give up on Paintist too soon. Check out some of the work by Jackson Pollock and Willem DeKooning. Pollock was clever enough to execute his "action painting" on giant canvases, then cut that large canvas into smaller squares and rectangles, frame same, and sell as individual works!! If you saw Paintist walking around pouring paint from a gallon bucket onto canvas on the floor, you'd shout, "Jackson!"
Oops! Self distraction... Cal's search result for "dis-ease" bouncing back with "gut" is consistent with a lot of current research. The gut biome, the interplay of flora and fauna that inhabit the gut, and produce all manner of outputs, have come to be seen as critical elements of our bodies' functioning. "There once was a lady, who swallowed a spider, that wriggled and jiggled and tickled inside her..." External input to gut biome.
Seriously, I think typist/paintist/author is exemplifying a keen curiousity and wisdom to sort her current experiences. Lots of living out loud for our benefit with encouragement to try some on! I could feel the gentleness and kindness as Thalia tied the scarf knot. What's the downside? When my wife began treatment for her cancer, at every meeting with the surgeon he would begin with a kind embrace (for her). He never acted rushed. He listened intently. To me, that also exhibited gentleness and kindness. Regardless of the insects and arachnids we toss into our gut biome, typist demonstrates ways for those in our sphere of influence to comfort and sooth us on our journeys.
P.S. The photo of the lotus has a title: "Euphonium Seranade to the Lotus Blossoms - With Muck."