life, love,art. heart failure and assorted ramblings

life, love,art. heart failure and assorted ramblings

Don't Talk Like That...

I write to find out what my heart thinks....
I write to expose and work through the ugly parts of this disease, open heart surgery that was less than successful and more recently an S-ICD (internal cardiac defibrillator) implanted in my chest that will hopefully restore my heart beat in case of sudden cardiac death. I am here to celebrate my life, to uncover my fears, to hold on to love, to learn how to live a full life with heart failure, to honor my creativity, and to explore all of my emotions out loud ...before anyone can say
"Don't talk like that!"


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Saturday, September 10, 2011

With My Whole Heart

Golda Meir said “those who do not know how to weep with their whole heart don't know how to laugh either.”

I keep reminding myself that this is a balancing act. Surely the bad scary days will be equalized by great, full, and wonderfully creative days.

I have already cried….

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

If I Ignore Fear?

I have an abundance of fear.
It is always hanging around me.

I’m grossly aware of it,
its heaviness,
its constancy.

There’s something in it that forces me, on what may be a spiritual level to consider that maybe, just maybe, it is a gateway to breakthrough, to blinding beauty, to realities yet un-imagined.

If I ignore fear, convince myself that it is irrational, pay no attention to its power, its message, its beckoning, will I miss something important; something true?

Could fear be what grounds me and draws me into the raw truth of life?
Can fear be not only important, but worthwhile?

Thursday, September 1, 2011

Unexpectedly Weird

Unexpectedly weird is being blindsided by an emotion I never saw coming. Today I got one of those awesome “parking passes” you know the one? The blue tags that hang from the rear view mirror and let me park close to the grocery store door. Those are the parking spaces I have coveted all of my life, so I thought I would be absolutely ecstatic, finally I get the good spots!

The lady at the tag office pushes the parking pass across the counter, I loose my breath and all I can see is those huge horrible big white letters screaming at me (disabled). No grouping of letters has ever been this unexpectedly offensive to me.

Hoping the primo parking spaces will make up for nasty label I feel like I am now wearing.