Have you ever had your life thrown upside-down and inside-out making your reality virtually unrecognisable? That murky place between what was familiar and a ânewâ normal on the horizon full of uncertainty? I call it the eye of the stormâŠ and that is where I sit at the moment.
Late last year I was super excited about the year of 2020. I had envisioned it was going to be my most amazing year yetâŠ getting married in March, my 2020 vision board created and hung on the wall and my business plan done. I was on fire and nothing was getting in my way.
And then everything changed on a dime. As I lay there getting my annual mammogram and ultrasound, Greg the sonographer said, âCindy, you have a lumpâ. I didnât want to believe him, I came up with a bevy of excuses about what it could be but somewhere deep in my knowing, I just knew it was serious and needed my attention.
I was diagnosed just six weeks out from our wedding. I had two lots of surgery and was scheduled in for chemotherapy. My oncologist was anxious about leaving my chemo treatments for so long but, nothing was going to get in the way of our epic, gorgeous, 3-day wedding celebrations.
Except COVID-19. With the global pandemic taking centre stage by March, we were forced to cancel our wedding celebrations just two weeks from tying the knot.
And in the span of a few weeks I was confronted with a diagnosis of breast cancer, undertook surgeries, cancelled our wedding, shut-down my business, commenced chemo and went into self-isolation with COVID-19. My 2020 year was nothing like the one I had envisioned! I felt completely stripped bare.
âThere is nothing like a good crisis to really wake you up, if you so choose it.â
A dear friend said to me amidst the chaos, âyour soul is getting something it wants from all of thisâ to which my soul immediately replied, âI am getting a rest, finallyâ.
A never was a truer word spoken. I have spent my life in service to others, always making sure everyone elseâs needs were met, people pleasing and often overlooking my needs entirely. And if I was completely honest with myself, I was exhaustedâŠ to the core. I had no juice left in the tank. And nothing to give.
So as I sit in the eye of the storm and reflect on the life that I had, I can feel the layers peeling back; layers of narrative, of labels, of BS, of relationships, and the parts of me that are no longer relevant. I have literally been stripped of the life I once knew and the identity which helped me survive there.
And as I take my soulâs sabbatical and navigate breast cancer treatment, I am curious about who I am becoming and that which really matters to me. There is nothing like being stripped bare to help you awaken to who you truly are and whatâs best to leave behind.
Love and wisdom,