Stumbling Toward Enlightenment

Six months ago, I found a lump in my breast. I'm a big advocate of regularly feeling yourself up, because I've walked the breast cancer walk with my mom (not the fundraiser, the real thing) and I'm determined that my kids won't have to go through what I went through with her. So while it is empowering for me to regularly check myself for lumps, it takes some major courage to monitor that aspect of my health. Hands trembling, I do it anyway. That night I hadn't expected to find anything, as a week before I had seen my doctor for my annual checkup and breast exam. So when I found this lump--this hard, marble shaped mass just below the skin, I freaked. I tried hard not to ask Dr.Google his advice, and I tried so hard not to compare myself to my mom. I'm 35 years old--I never smoked (like she did for 14 years), I breastfed my two kids for a year and a half each because I've heard it lowers your risk for breast cancer, and I eat my 5 fruits and veggies a day.

Since my school plans have changed, I've been craving a new project. After indulging in a day out with girlfriends (a rare treat!), feasting our eyes on fabric and handcrafted goodies, I've got the crafting bug again. Given my thwarted fall plans, the timing could not have been better. I've had my eye on a new etsy-competitor ( http://www.artfire.com/ ) and am busy creating new inventory to start selling again. Since everything I posted on etsy sold, I'm hopeful that my new sewing projects will do just as well. So enough blahblahblah, here's a sample of what I've been working on: The Inspiration Stash: My first cuts: Coming together... The final product, along with a few others: More handtowels coming down the pipeline!: And more...

It is the beginning of Spring and many folks have either started new resolutions for Lent or have abandoned those they began for New Years. While I haven't made any New Year's resolutions, I do participate in Lent and have decided to make this year's Lenten sacrifice (?) a giving up of my daily online news addiction. Truth be told, it really only included homicides, child abuse trials and middle eastern violence/politics). I'm a crime news junkie--and not one of those I-need-to-keep-up-with-what-is-going-on-in-the-world-so-that-I-can-feel-somewhat-socially-responsible, but an addicted to murder trials and the newest whooping cough tragedies type. It wasn't helping me develop as a person and it certainly wasn't helping me sleep at night. The first few days were tough--my iPod is bookmarked and after reading my morning emails, my first impulse is to check the big mainstream headlines, then onto the independent news outlets. I could easily spend an hour or two sc

I attended a women's retreat at a Franciscan retreat center when my youngest was just a few months old, toting him along with me and sharing a room with a friend of mine who had also just had a baby. I remember those early days with my son, staring at his tiny new face, marveling at his fingers, his toes, his wispy dark hair and feeling an overwhelming sense of mama-bear love. It's the love of fabric softener commercials, Hallmark specials, baby announcements and the first buds of spring. But there are other kinds of love, of devotion, of moments that you find yourself willing to do whatever it takes for another person. A tougher, more raw kind of love. A love that has grown strong, shredded, raspy with time and pain. That weekend at the women's retreat we listened to a story about a woman caring for her alcoholic husband, and one thing the speaker said really hit me. She said, Sometimes, this is what love looks like . It hit me because I know what it's like to love