Talk about vulnerability—I have just come from my annual mammogram.  All tucked into our Johnny gowns sitting side by side in the waiting room, each woman with her own story, and each with her own way of waiting.  Some are thumbing through the dog-eared magazines dating back to March and some are breathing deeply.  One woman brought her sister, and another listened to music; each woman her own warrior as I look around and observe valor, strength and courage.  For me, it doesn’t feel like courage.  It feels like I’m standing on the edge of a cliff.  If a gust of wind comes along, down I go.  If not, I get to stand in the warm sunshine and admire the view.  This is vulnerability.

My own story is that I am now the same age that my mother was when she was diagnosed with breast cancer.  Rationally, that really doesn’t mean much.  But telling my stomach and my heart to be rational is another story.  As I wait for the technician to tell me everything is fine, I’m attempting to practice mindfulness by breathing deeply, having my 2 feet planted on the ground and trying to keep my head connected to the rest of my body. I’ve also created rituals around this annual event:  I make sure my appointment is the first one on the schedule in the morning as this minimizes wait time.  I also send an APB out to my posse with a text that says “Waiting…” This morning my dear friend Lisa waited with me, even though she was in NY and still in bed at that hour. And finally, in honor of my mother and to celebrate the good news, I take myself to Kupel’s Bakery in Brookline for a delicious breakfast.

To see the courage women muster in the face of a mammogram is really quite extraordinary. In our selves we feel weakness, but in someone else we see courage… that’s the interesting part about vulnerability. We take great pains to “suck it up” because our culture honors stoicism, but might we lessen its discomfort and even grow during these times by bringing it into the light?  I look forward to the day when I can see beauty and courage in my own vulnerability.

In one-way or another every one of us will find our selves in a waiting room of sorts.  How do you navigate that vulnerable feeling?  Would you share any of your rituals or creative coping skills that help you get through the tough moments?

Wishing you very good health,

Joan