Noun.

• Marrow- the fatty network of connective tissue that fills the cavities of bones
• Marrow- the most essential or most vital part of some idea or experience

 
Bone marrow biopsy
Bore out my vitality in a thread
Cherry red on the petri dish
The pain is excruciating
I don’t want you to see my most essential part
Taking a microscope to look at my essence
 
One more “first”
Anticipation of pain
A needle to my center
Owwww!
Sucks the heart
Leaves an absence
Deep aching left in the wake
 
It is a violation.
Perhaps the cavities of my bones will reveal
my pith to be altered
Maybe you will see
That I’m not at my core who you think I am
All pretenses and projections will be blown
 
The truth will be revealed
Perhaps it will be a relief, I don’t have to act any longer
You’ll see I’m broken, less-than, deformed, mutated, or otherwise not normal
And I’ll have to stop pretending.
Perhaps it will be my next greatest challenge, and I’ll have to show up even more
You’ll see I’m clear, resilient, scaffolded, filled with super-cells ready for action
And I’ll have to stop pretending.
 
Relief has many forms.
The line between positive and negative degrades to truth
This is more complex than results on paper
Because it is comprised of experience
 
The results will mean nothing/everything
They tell me and everyone else who I am
Yet say nothing about my hopes, desires, and capacity to love.
A life lived anchored in marrow.
 
I often wonder if I am strong enough for what I want to accomplish in this life
And now some of that strength will be removed
And then it will grow back fiercer
With renewed vigor
Intensely recommitted to being vital
To living out it’s impact and purpose
Perhaps I should say thank you
Thank you for removing a burdened cross-section
So that resolved vitality can replace it
 
 
With one more part of me removed… who am I now? 

Today I want to celebrate. And the truth is, I’m too exhausted. Too tired to celebrate or feel satisfied. I have crawled across some make-believe finish line of the past month, which has left me tattered and torn, strewn on the ground reaching for a cup of water.
 
In the fantasy of my mind I thought I’d be standing on a podium of my own achievement, medal in hand, adoring crowd. Everyone aware of what I’ve accomplished and done. Oh, doesn’t that feel good? I can feel the perfect beam of sunlight landing on my face now, lighting me up, and I’m able to take it all in. (In this scenario I think my skin is even sparkling a bit, like one of those vampires, and also I have a dress made out of fire, like in Hunger Games.) So magnificent. My glory moment of surviving the last month. It’s what I deserve, to be seen.
 
But unfortunately, there’s no podium, no medal, no crowd. I feel like I just pulled back the curtain to see that the wizard is actually just human. I’m just human. And no one seems to notice. In the scenario of what feels like reality I’m standing on 5th avenue in NYC asking for food, and everyone passes me by without looking, cold, grey, uncaring.
 
Let me make this clear- this is not the glory moment I wanted. I’ve been trained for awards and applause, sparkles and fire. And instead it feels like I’m getting a broken wizard and grey blah.
 
In truth, today, my glory moment is unexpectedly quiet. I’m being offered time alone to celebrate, quietly, with myself. I’m the only one who really knows what I’ve survived this past month. And I’m the only one who can truly see it. Sigh.
 
2 times in the hospital
Medical bills that make my head spin
One job I work, to have health insurance, that kills my soul a little each time I go there
A doctors appointment with great news!
And foreshadowing of more challenging procedures to come
3 presentations at major conferences, one at a university
Talking about things I hold so dearly to my heart…
Illness, burnout, self-care…
Feeling like a hypocrite… well, actually, I’m human and learning just like everyone else
More hours spent with my person than I could’ve hoped possible
Quality time with family and friends
A brave decision to give myself more space and time by lowering a commitment
Feeling broken, filled back up, broken, full, broken, full…
The brilliance of a fleeting moment being in the present
 
And yet, it’s not enough, not enough…not enough.
 
I want more, more, more… I want someone to see me! Don't you? I want the crowd! I want people to really know what I’ve gone through, as if they were somehow me. Who really get it. To tell me they’re proud of me. Oh, I feel how I crave it.
 
But the truth is, it does not matter who sees me, if I can’t see myself. And also, that I’m the only one who will really know what it’s like to be me. If I can’t breathe, take in the joy and the pain of surviving another month in this body, in this lifetime, no one else is going to be able to make me feel that. I get to do this for myself. 
 
So I accept what is right before me. A day of personal silence and quiet, to tell myself that I’ve done so well. To sleep in, meditate, write… do some movement, eat my favorite foods. To tuck in with a cup of tea, and say, dear one, I’m so proud of you.
 
And as I do this, I realize all the people that have actually told me this over the past month. But I couldn’t hear it yet, because I hadn’t told myself. I needed to believe it first. If I didn’t believe in myself first, no one else is going to be able to say it in a way that I could believe it.
 
We need to see ourselves first before we can take the good stuff in from anyone else.

​And, don't worry, I totally get it, seeing ourselves for our accomplishments can be the hardest thing.
 
So today, would you be willing to try to say: hey self, good job! To see yourself, just about one little thing. I know you did something worth being seen for… getting out of bed, organizing a closet… Maybe it feels funny, or fake, but I’ll try it with you. We can tell ourselves together, okay? Because when we see ourselves, then we can let it in more from everyone else too.