When people don’t hear from us for a while, they get nervous. You’ve all been following our excellent adventure—from urbanites to Brazilian farm girls to Gersonites to Casa-lytes—for nearly 3 years. What a strange and wonderful trip it’s been.
In January 2010 when we took the leap, quit our jobs, and unloaded most of our earthly possessions, you cheered us on. When we left the sexy shores of Copacabana and bought a farm in the mountains, admit it—you freaked out. (Me too!) And when my sweet and spicy Helena received that dreadful diagnosis, I know that your hearts broke that day right along with mine.
You laughed at our enema jokes and you made batches of Hippocrates Soup and held dinners in our honor. You bought us carrots for juicing and sent us jokes to keep us laughing. On the darkest days, I knew you were there.
I love you for that. I will never, ever forget.
I know that this recent chapter has been a stretch for some of you. John of WHO? Does what? Wearing what? But you’ve kept sending us your love and encouragement, no matter how challenged you were by the idea that such a difficult diagnosis could have a spiritual cure.
No scary chemicals, no fancy diets. Just prayer and hopeful expectations.
So for all of you out there who have been preparing yourselves for the worst, I give you this photo. Helena’s still here, rosy-cheeked and laughing, fully devoted to her cure, and still (and these are her words): “A complete pain in the ass.”
Every morning, we wake up expecting the best. Some days are more work than others, but each day we wake up with the expectation that miracles might just happen. Many days, they do.
Is it magical thinking? Does it matter?
I recently explained a reason for believing in an afterlife like this:
“When you think about the idea that after you’re dead, you’re just gone, that there’s nothing more—that the light goes out and your time is up, how do you feel? Kinda sad, right? Now imagine that when your time comes, you’re greeted by every loved one you’ve missed, and they’re waiting for you at a big backyard party with all of your favorite food and music, and it just goes on and on like this forever…which feels better? So until you know for sure, why not pick the option that makes you happiest?”
At the end of November, I will fly to Arizona a full 5 weeks ahead of Helena in order to prepare the way for our return to the US. I wouldn’t have booked the flight if I didn’t expect that she’d be there in January. Although the farm hasn’t sold yet, we continue to believe that the right owner will come along when the timing is right. We’ve found a sweet little house in Arizona in the town where my parents live, and that’s where will stay until the spirit moves us to be elsewhere.
If you’ve been reading this blog for a while, you know that the Present and I have finally made peace. I’ve found the formula. It’s probably going to sound like Chicken Soup for the New Age Soul, but it goes something like this:
When you’re disappointed by the results, monitor your reaction—NOT your expectations.
Love fiercely. Laugh fully. Eat what your body needs and be thankful for each bite.
Smile at strangers. Talk to kids and dogs.
Pray each day.
Ask for help. Say please and thank you.
Go to bed grateful for at least one thing each day, no matter how small.
Wake up the next day and vow to do better.
That’s it. Try it tomorrow and thank me when we meet again.