Mary Oliver wrote, “I saw that worrying had come to nothing and I gave it up. And took my old body and went into the morning and sang.”

That’s pretty much how I feel right now. It is wholly, weirdly, and wildly surreal to say that I have breast cancer.

But life is weird that way.

I have only cried once, when the news was 30 minutes fresh. And since then, I’ve felt an intensity of focus like I’ve never experienced before. I’m used to putting my head down and doing the work that needs to be done… figuring things out as I go.

This feels no different. Just more at stake.

And when I look at Henry, I am fueled with an unexplainable drive to do whatever it takes. Take all the information. Walk through all the nastiest parts of the storm. I’m willing to do it all.

Interestingly, I think I knew I had it. Even when the ultrasound doctor said it was only a 12% chance, I would tell people, “In my gut, I feel like it’s not good, but I don’t know if I can trust it in this situation.” Well, I know now that I can. And I will. I feel like God is all over this, and that I’ve been preparing for this for the last few years, as I’ve come to learn more about how divinely we are made, and how our minds and bodies are so intertwined.

Which is why layering the power of nutrition and whole-body wellness onto the incredible advances of western medicine feel so right.

Thank you so much for your love and care. I feel incredibly supported by my family, my amazing communities (my Arabian horse family, my Ballard School family, and Bethania church family), and my God. Please continue to uphold especially Henry in your love and prayers as we journey through this together. I’m confident in what’s ahead, and am ready for it all.

Bring it on.