I think I got a sign from Becky Sun Dennis (a friend of mine who was a wonderful artist) to write this today. Something I’d been thinking about writing for a while (since I first heard she was making her transition).
A long while ago, when Becky and I had formed a bond through Reiki, and I had helped one of her beloved cats, we were talking about her cancer diagnosis. I asked her, “are you going to fight?”
She replied, “no. I am going to dance.”
I didn’t understand it at the time, but as she moved about on the dance floor of her life with cancer, I began to see the wisdom of her ways.
I am a warrior and will always be a fighter, but sometimes, the fight is a dance. Cancer became her teacher and she accepted that this was to remain as long as she could bear it.
She lasted a lot longer than many people I knew with her similar diagnosis.
The quality of her life waned at times. She was discouraged. She cried. She got angry. She was purely and utterly human. Without apology.
But still, she danced.
She danced with this villain that so many of us hate, so many of us despise, and still, she kept going.
The dance seemed to ebb for a time. But she didn’t take a single step for granted.
She kept going.
Yesterday, the music concluded, and she stepped away from the dance floor and became something else. Her spirit lives on in our hearts.
And still, she dances.
She dances on the wind, with Time itself, and in and around the stars. She continues her dance in other forms that are non-corporeal.
I will miss her so much. She helped me with her gentle wisdom, her strength, and her courage. She helped me with her beautiful art. She helped me with her anger, her sadness, her frustration. She made me realize that I could still hold onto my spirit without losing my logic. I could dance!
A life is temporary, but life is eternal.
In my heart, she dances.
Rest in peace, Sunshine. You are and will always be loved.