Empty rooms, shuttered and dank – 337/366

What am I passionate about?

Passion by Frank Dicksee (1892)
Passion by Frank Dicksee (1892)

::exhale::

I am very passionate about giving back. I see it as some form of thank you that I can extend to the word and to individuals. Not an entitlement or duty as might be bound up in the idea behind noblesse oblige.

I think I am writing about something more about practicing generosity than something that is duty.

The subtle rewards are so tremendous.

Last night, in a new role as a communication director for a local cancer coalition I sat with a fellow survivor and she spoke about how crazy friends and family get after a diagnosis.

I think this happened to my family, my mother and aunt got weird as fuck and seemed hell-bent on making this the most completely traumatic experience they could.

As I am moving into my third year of official remission, a little more frightened an da little more savvy – I am starting to want to have a party for all my friends that have had cancer. A get together to just be with folks who know how fucking sucky it all is… except my aunt had cancer and I am not sure I want her there. I haven’t spoken to my mother for a few weeks, I am finally feeling normal after my last conversation with her – my husband is saying I need to talk to her again – I am not convinced.  She has the ability to bring me crashing into a sense of hopelessness with a mere word. That is not a nice way to feel.

Getting cancer sucks, and it is good if you have a strong support network, but many of those people whom you would expect tot be there are often so freaked out that they become useless.

I miss my mom in BC terms (before cancer) I dislike her a lot in AD (after diagnosis) terms.

 

“Passion. It lies in all of us. Sleeping… waiting… and though unwanted, unbidden, it will stir… open its jaws and howl. It speaks to us… guides us. Passion rules us all. And we obey. What other choice do we have? Passion is the source of our finest moments. The joy of love… the clarity of hatred… the ecstasy of grief. It hurts sometimes more than we can bear. If we could live without passion, maybe we’d know some kind of peace. But we would be hollow. Empty rooms, shuttered and dank. Without passion, we’d be truly dead.”
~ Joss Whedon

I liked this quote from  Anaïs Nin for some reason. It seems ridiculous on some level but on another, it speaks quite deeply.

“Man can never know the loneliness a woman knows. Man lies in the woman’s womb only to gather strength, he nourishes himself from this fusion, and then he rises and goes into the world, into his work, into battle, into art. He is not lonely. He is busy. The memory of the swim in amniotic fluid gives him energy, completion. Woman may be busy too, but she feels empty. Sensuality for her is not only a wave of pleasure in which she is bathed, and a charge of electric joy at contact with another. When man lies in her womb, she is fulfilled, each act of love a taking of man within her, an act of birth and rebirth, of child rearing and man bearing. Man lies in her womb and is reborn each time anew with a desire to act, to be. But for woman, the climax is not in the birth, but in the moment man rests inside of her.”
~ Anaïs Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

Here are for passion related songs –

 

 

 

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