First You're Up, Then You're Down

I learned about Maslow's Theory of the Hierarchy of Needs in grade school, maybe Junior High. Here in the United States, we don't give this a lot of thought and most of us live in the upper pyramids. We take for granted food, water, shelter. When I was in the fight for my life, I was deeply cognizant of the fact that I was now living in the bottom of the pyramid.

I had just bought my bug and I could care less about it. The new camera and lens that went with it seemed such a waste. Every set back takes me back to that feeling. Today was one of those days. 

After feeling so strong yesterday, I struggled through most of the day. Not until this evening did I finally venture out. 

My heart wasn't into it, but I made myself head out.

It's the thing I hate the most about feeling this way...the loss of creativity. 

I want it back. One day. One day.

What Faith Can Do

This song touched me today. I was singing it over and over again in the car as I was driving home, then switched on the Fish and much to my delight, surprise and thankfulness, it was playing on the radio. Is that not a miracle in itself??

As I was singing the refrain along with the radio, my words were coming in furious bursts of sobs. It felt so catharsis. 

I've seen dreams that move the mountains

Hope that doesn't ever end

Even when the sky is falling

I've seen miracles just happen

Silent prayers get answered

Broken hearts become brand new

That's what faith can do

It's not just a song to me. It's what I believe. It's what I know to be true. I don't know why I've had a set back, but it doesn't mean that I can climb back out of this, if it be God's will. My dream is that I still have time. I have hope that there are still some miracles out there for me. 

Tired

It's been a long week with still one more day to go. Didn't help that I had to drive over to Kaiser for my blood test in preparation for my doctor's appointment on Monday. There is always that moment before the needle goes in when my anxiety rises. Some of the lab technicians are so good, I really can't feel the needle. Some, aren't. I don't know which it'll be until the needle is inserted. I still hate that moment.

My melancholy didn't really help. As I walked to the medical building, I thought about miracles and the hope that I have that one day I will be miraculously healed. I do believe God has that power. I know he does without a doubt. Just because he hasn't performed it on me doesn't me he loves me any less or my sin is any more than any one else. It's just the way it is.

I like to believe that God has already performed a miracle, that he gave me more time. So what if during that time, I have to walk with a limp. So what if during that time, getting up from a chair can be difficult. At least I'm not filled with pain 24/7. At least I can still walk. At least I'm still to live, laugh, love. And hurt, cry, ache, because I still do those things do.

Driving back home, I thought about Jesus and how he asked if there was another way, that God would take the cup. A kiss on his check was the answer. How then can I ask for God to spare me pain, which really at this time, I don't have a lot of. How then can I ask for God to heal me completely. Don't get me wrong, I ask this ALL the time, EVERY morning, EVERY night, EVERY time I get up to walk right now. I AWAYS hope, hope that as I sleep, God will touch me and I'll awake and my cancer will be gone.

I know it can happen, but I don't know that it will. I'm okay with that. I can live like this a long, long time. I'm okay with that. I just want years. That would be my miracle. 12 more years...at least. But I'll take it one day at a time.

Real Life

I've been struggling creatively for several months now. The beginning of the year started off so promising. The world was my canvas. I couldn't take enough pictures. I was writing every day. Sure it was fluff, but it was a start and I knew, just knew, that it was going to be a springboard to something more.

It helped that I was out and about almost every evening, coming home, staying up late, processing my photos and writing my dreams. Now it's all a struggle. I rarely write, nothing really inspires me. Every day I start the day with big plans and every night I make excuses. I long to be inspired. I long to have something to photograph. I long to write. 

I read something the other day that stirred something within me. It made me think of the photos I loved as a child. They were glimpses of our life. Things that were, that will not be again because things change. They always change. 

Yesterday, we didn't drink water from plastic bottles. Now it's a common occurrence. When in the world did that happen? Why in the world has it happened?

I have a feeling that one day these may be a thing of the past too. There are all aspects I love about photography, but the one I love best is when it shows us real life.