I feel disappointment so keenly
And like I’ve been robbed of the past several years
First it was cancer and then recovery
And just I was really starting to feel myself
Feel "normal" and able to do the thing
The pandemic hit
And it was all taken away again
And I don't feel safe to be in the room any more
Because the world is on fire
And the people in charge keep handing out matches and lighters and kerosene cocktails

And then I came back to do theatre in the woods
And oh my god it felt so good to have a script in my hands
To be sharing the love of musical theatre with a new generation of kids
And then I had to work with someone whose skills did not match what was on their resume
They could not do the thing
And it was disappointing and frustrating because it curtailed the process
And it made it harder for the kids
And it wasn't until he quit, mid-rehearsal, in front of a room full of campers and staff
That it was made better

But in between we sat on the stage at the veggie patch
And did accent work
We drilled melodies and harmonies and rhythms and words
We talked about the meaning and hidden meanings of the words
We talked about intention and making ourselves heard
We learnt choreography and blocking

And on the hottest day of the summer (so far) the show happened
And it was a relief and it was exciting and it was swelteringly hot
And I got to wave my arms in front of a band
Which was scary and challenging and unbelievably fun
And at the end the theatre crew descended onto the stage and started drilling and ripping and carrying bits of the set away to make space for the next show and
I felt intensely sad because I didn't want it to be over
But I helped pack the van with the music stands and chairs and the drum kit
And went up the hill to unpack the van with the music stands and chairs and the drum kit
And by the time I got back to the dining hall
The cast party was over and the kids had been taken to their bunks
And I didn't get to say good night or well done or I'm so proud of the work you've done and
I felt a rush of grief because it all had been taken away again
And all I could do was sob

And then two nights later
Reminiscing about eight years before
When organic-vegetarian-regularly-exercising-meditating-rarely-drinking-29 year old-me was told
You have leukemia.
You will be dead in a month if you don’t have treatment.
And then all that happened

And today, eight years later, I feel relief
I feel scared it will come back and it everything will be taken away again
I feel thankful I was where I was when it happened
The best place for the worst thing to happen
I feel joy that I can sing
I feel joy that I can play flute
And that I’m learning to play the piano
I feel joy that I can read music
I feel joy that I can read at all
That I can form words
That I can be back in the woods
Even when it is hard
Even when it is disappointing

​​I am here.