I'm on my way back to the desert after two days of seeing clients in the Bay Area. I found myself wanting to write about leadership, as I always do, but have other things on my mind, and in my heart.
My Mom's starting six weeks of chemotherapy and radiation treatments on Monday. Her type of brain cancer, known as GBM, is a tough customer . . . but then again, it's never had to go toe to toe with my Mom.
With the exception of the last two days, I've been with her and her husband every day from symptoms, through diagnosis, and now to treatment. They are both the epitome of class and courage. Both are folks who tend to keep deeper matters and feelings to themselves, they have suddenly invited many friends and family into their lives in a more vulnerable way.
Since this all started 20 days ago, I've seen nothing but the best of both of them. Beyond that, they have reached beyond "normal" for them, and tapped new resources within themselves, and from others. It's been amazing.
And they've done it with candor and humor. I know it's tough for them to "stand in the river of their feelings," particularly when the heart is breaking with worry, fear, anger, sadness -- all at once. But they are doing it.
Am I writing about Leadership? I guess so: personal courage in the face of tremendous challenge. I am honored and grateful to walk this journey with my Mom, the fighter, the leader.
Take a lesson from her: you can "Rise" any time -- so what are you waiting for?
Rise
For so long
She swam the tides of sameness.
Oceans of time gone by, of
Morning coffees and sleepy nights
Then one blink more, and
The seas are sand, and there she stands
In the dry heat of chance
She sheds the mask of the same old past
Her heart has escaped her chest
Crept quietly from its nest
And taken residence
In the hands and hearts of all of us
The stage is set
She's ready to rock, to roll,
To rise . . .
May she rise.
May we rise with her.
