heroes

January 11, 2015January 11, 2015 / jane in training / 6 Comments

I am not an alarmist.

Okay, I sort of am.

One time, I thought I was getting a strange skin growth on my face. Until I wiped it away. It was called peanut butter. Another time, I knew I was diseased when all of my fingernails suddenly turned orange. I forgot that I was experimenting with self-tanning lotion. (By the way, I also thought my car was diseased when the leather driver’s seat started to stain in strange spots.)

In 2013, when my friend Nancy told me she was feeling bloated and it wouldn’t go away, we joked about gas like ~~eight year-olds~~ ~~teenage boys~~ two mature and sophisticated women. She subsequently went to get her colon checked. It was healthy.

It turned out that she had a late-stage ovarian tumor that had started to secrete fluid into her abdomen. She fought hard to kick cancer’s ass and gave it a tremendous fight, but a year and a half later, she was gone.

She was 52 years old.

My friend S recently told me she had been feeling bloated.

Alarm bells blared in my ears. I didn’t want to hear them. I didn’t want to share them with her. But I did because I told myself that if any woman ever used the word “bloated” in a conversation, I would inquire further and gently ask them to consider seeing their gynecologist. Many symptoms of ovarian cancer are disguised as common symptoms that we all experience.

S was one up on me. She had already seen her gynecologist and everything appeared fine. Phew. Stupid alarmist. Why did you have to scare the crap out of me?

But as it turns out, all is not fine.

Ovarian cancer is nefarious. It slips quietly into a room and by the time you notice it, it has taken up most of that space. It’s greedy. It wants more. It wants to suffocate you from the inside out. And you can look for all sorts of reasons why it showed up in the first place, but one of those reasons could simply be, as scientists termed it: bad luck.

I love my female friends. They are my support system. And I have a hard time understanding why I would even have to consider giving them up. Why are they being attacked? While I’m at it: breast cancer, leave us alone, too. All cancers. Just go away.

Stuart Scott, an ESPN anchor and sportscaster, recently passed away from his battle with a rare form of appendix cancer. About six months before he passed, he said these heroic and inspiring words:

“When you die, it does not mean that you lose to cancer. You beat cancer by how you live, why you live and the manner in which you live.”

My friend S is transcendently forgiving, full of grace, and tough as nails. She will be navigating her way with the kind of light that you need to see through those dark places.

They don’t call it the hero’s journey for nothing.

happiness is a warm taco

January 5, 2015January 7, 2015 / jane in training / 2 Comments

My friend Mae took this photo during a moment of our champagne tastes and caviar dreams (I didn't have a picture of me eating a taco).

My friend Mae took this photo during a champagne tastes and caviar dreams moment (I didn’t have a picture of me eating tacos).

The alternative title to this post was “happiness is hugging a warm taco”, but doing so is decidedly messy. Don’t believe me? Try it, then get back to me.

The other day a friend and I went to get tacos at a local Mexican market. It’s no frills and the tacos are soooo good. You walk in, pass the glass case filled with ready-to-go carnitas, salsas, cheese, chicharron, and crema, and head towards the back where you can order your deliciously warm tacos. Did I mention that they are $1.50/each??

When they call out your order for pick up, you can sit down at one of the few tables or hoist yourself up on a bar stool and sit at one of the counters.

I hoisted.

I hugged my taco.

I spoke with my mouth full: “Thi foo make me happy.”

If you’ve made it this far into the post, first of all, thank you from the bottom of my taco-loving heart. Second of all, you might be thinking, “Poor girl, she thinks she’s posting a review on Yelp. tsk tsk.”

Yes, sometimes I get confused and think I’m on Yelp, Match.com or even forget where I am in general, but today, talking about tacos reminds me how something so simple can bring such joy. When everything is so clearly simple and solid and in-the-moment. It doesn’t matter if it’s a taco, a stunning view, or breaking out in uncontrollable laughter with a friend. I’m grateful for any fleeting moment that causes you to connect to yourself and something even beyond that. Something bigger than yourself…that intangible feeling of…love?

I don’t know why my lesson was sent in a taco, but hey, I’ll take it. There’s a reason why I’m always proposing to food. Mr. T and I pity the poor fool I fall in love with: “Marry me or else I’m going to make a taco a very happy husband!!”

Hey, that’s a good title for a Match.com profile…

re(new)

January 3, 2015January 3, 2015 / jane in training / 1 Comment

don’t like the path you’re taking? you can always find a new one (or make your own)

*The first word for 2015?: new. For more WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge entries, click here!

I have been in a writing rut.

I implored AAA to come and rescue me, to charge up my draining battery, but they refused. Something about “we only respond to calls about automobiles, ma’am.”

So be it. I was on my own.

Enter 2015.

Like many people, I feel a renewed energy at the beginning of a new year. It’s a marker that shouts: “Get your fresh start! Fresh starts here!!”

I have a new plan, a new camera, a determination to keep strengthening my core (literally and psychologically), but my creative energy to write has waned. There is an ebb and flow in this life, and right now my words are out to sea. I can see them floating aimlessly, bobbing up and down. I have to trust that they’ll come back to me, even though that whole bobbing up and down thing is really annoying.

Luckily, my creative energy for taking photos is holding steady.

looking inward and looking outward at Shark Fin Cove, Davenport CA

My mantra for 2015?: See new things. See old things in a new way. See Jane get older but always find ways to be new.

what’s your angle?

November 21, 2014November 22, 2014 / jane in training / 24 Comments

This week’s WordPress photo challenge – Angular – was just that: challenging.

I thought to myself, Angles? I don’t have no stinkin’ angles! I’m so busy looking at nature, I’m clueless about angles. I know, I know, nature is full of them. But I wanted to post a photo of something made by human hands.

I’m usually not drawn to buildings and lines and such, so I had to comb through my archive to see what I could find…

Well. You beautiful thing, you.

San Francisco’s Golden Gate Bridge is one of the most stunning bridges in the world. Granted, I haven’t seen very many bridges in my life, but this particular bridge is boldly romantic, sweepingly picturesque, and that FOG! It so deserves ALL CAPS. TYPING IN ALL CAPS IS FUN. Okay, focus. Back to the bridge.

That mysterious, seductive coastal fog adds a whole other dimension to its beauty. I love me some sun, but I also love how weather lends different emotions to a landscape, no matter if you’re taking photos of trees, skyscrapers or people.

So, in the end, I liked this challenge. Yes, I called angles stinky, but the ones that make up this manmade structure completely changed my mind.

That’s the power of the Golden Gate Bridge.

solo

November 14, 2014November 21, 2014 / jane in training / 4 Comments

I was on a nature walk recently when I crossed paths with three elderly people speaking a language I couldn’t place. When they saw me, the lone man raised his fist in the air.

“Good for you! Alone!” He said, smiling and gesturing to our natural surroundings.

I raised my own fist and my boyfriend Camera, in the other. In the eyes of the general public, I was by myself. I’m very lucky that Camera is an understanding sort of partner.

“Yes! Can’t wait for someone…must go!!” I said in broken English, even though I speak perfectly good sentence-wise. I say perfect in sentences. I can get my words out.

(I don’t know why I do this. Must be the decades of speaking to my mom in all sorts of broken up ways so she can understand what I’m babbling about.)

They all smiled at me and headed to a bench to take a break. Their good cheer gave me a boost.

I like being alone unless I’m having dinner by myself at a restaurant. Where do I look? Should I stare thoughtfully at empty spaces so as not to creep people out? Or is this creepy in itself? Is it sad to read a book by candlelight while shoving food down my throat?

I should rephrase: I don’t have a problem being alone most of the time. Sometimes being with my own thoughts is terrifying, but at least it’s an activity that doesn’t harm anyone else.

I get filled up really quickly the more energetic and crowded the situation. I can be as outgoing as the next person, and then my inner timer goes off !ding! without warning. I will start to sag and sway. I elbow myself in the side – yes, this is possible – and say, “You’re done. Better come up with an exit strategy.”

After I say a few goodbyes, I know how to slip away, unnoticed.

I guess once a ninja, always a ninja.

This is what I look like leaving a party.

It’s strange to want to connect with people yet need to be alone. Someday I’d like to be in a serious relationship with the right person, yet I also ‘joke’ about wanting them to live next door to me, not with me. I secretly – that is, until now – think this is a brilliant idea.

I used to think this kind of push-pull was terribly antisocial of me, but I now know that there are many people who can relate. For goodness’ sake, even Oprah needs time alone with her thoughts.

We like our feet on the earth and we want to soar the skies. We like you…in doses. We know how to play well with others (this is up for debate) and are fine playing by ourselves. We have a lot of words to share, but sometimes they get stuck on the way out of our mouths. We like to write things out. Can I get a holla??

Oh, I forgot, you’re probably in hiding. That’s okay. I get it. For now, know that I am raising a triumphant fist in the air for you. We solo explorers need to stick together…until we need to go back to our respective hiding places.