Update, I've got breast cancer, I'm gonna survive

I was diagnosed in October with Stage 0 Breast Cancer. Non-invasive DCIS. It is that scary word -cancer- but it came with all sorts of softening modifiers- non-invasive, stage 0.  It was a surprise, no doubt, but not completely out of left field.  In my early 40’s I had a lumpectomy for some calcifications my Doctor found troubling in my other breast. They found nothing scary when they ran the pathology and I went on my merry way. With annual mammograms, natch.

Fast forward to pandemic days and my annual mammo has something troubling so, I get another one 6 months later. And then yet another, another six months after that. With that one comes the diagnosis, and off I go into the land of the medical industrial complex. I don’t really need to go into any gory detail. I’ve been doing that on social media. Treatment plan was a lumpectomy followed by a month of radiation.  That has turned into two lumpectomies, and 16 days of radiation. I am about half way into the radiation, and that is why I am here sharing this situation.

Juline and I in the dining hall…

When you are a one woman show, a sole proprietor, a crazy woman with a vision, and you are diagnosed with breast cancer it has an extra layer of stress. I am a very, VERY lucky woman that I have health insurance, and the means to support myself during treatment. My diagnosis was caught very early, so my prognosis is excellent. I also have a strong focused community of on-the-ground support. It has been a delicious discovery how far and wide my extended community of Makers is. You have all shown up in a really humbling manner. Not all people are this lucky, this supported, I am immensely grateful. I will get past this. I have a lot more to do, and decades ahead of me to do it.

All the support doesn’t take away from the fact that I am, most of the year, a one-woman show. By choice. I am a Virgo, I like things my way, I am particular. So I have specific ways I want to describe my retreats. Present them. Tell their stories. Share their special nature. I am very particular about who I bring to teach. These gatherings have a cultivated feel that I work carefully to achieve. Ultimately when everyone arrives, they should feel pretty relaxed and seamless. That is because of the care I take in the six months that lead up to them. Getting to that relaxed state takes some behind the scene work, some back-end preparation, quite a bit of detail oriented decision making, scene-setting. All with the goal of a generous and dynamic experience for all who attend. And while much of this planning comes naturally to me, feels fun, exciting, and challenging in a good way, it still takes a solid creative effort on the part of my gray matter.

me, in my happy place, at a retreat, in the grass, with the happy noise of makers around me….

Therefore when I have to lose large chunks of time and energy in my plotting season to treatment, I am anxious. I am anxious because I have breast cancer, obviously. Even though I do know I will get past this.  But I am also anxious because I know I have creative work that needs to be done while I am being treated. My overthinking brain immediately turns to the worst case scenario.  Probably has a little to do with my ability to plan these things- I think through situations. Through social media, my community shares their experiences with BC with me, and I see myself conked out on the couch, unable to process a thought, much less a decisive, creative one, and I despair. How will I get the retreats announced?  I know that, unless covid throws us some insurmountable curveball, I will be there at Medomak Retreat Center with various groups of engaged Makers in July and August. So I have to get them planned, described, and announced. Me. Samantha. The overthinking Virgo.  Maybe that was part of my need to up my anti-anxiety meds after my second lumpectomy? I was counting my weeks of competence to be able to gather the retreats into a shareable form, from surgery to the end of January. Which is when I announce my year’s gatherings. And is also when my radiation therapy will end. Not great timing for me. 

watching like mother hen….

Planning the retreats is my (beloved) job. Part of the love is all the people I come in contact with, who share their skills, their love of materials, their passion for technique with me. So I am the hub of the wheel, and I like that role just fine. But there is a vulnerability to this position. I am almost half way into my treatment. My last session is January 28. I am feeling fine right now. I am editing photos from last year that make me smile.  I am tweaking the language of workshops, of programs, of precautions, of opportunities for epiphany, discovery, joy. I am in the thick of it.  I have a bunch of balls in the air. They are hovering nicely. As they have at this time of year in pre-pandemic Januarys. At this rate, feeling as I do, I should be on schedule. That is reassuring knowledge. I hope I can continue this trajectory. But nothing in life is guaranteed, is it…?

This precarious balance brings to mind many conversations I have had in the recent past, about the unraveling of our support systems, laid bare by the pandemic. I find myself appreciating my diagnosis for the self-imposed distance it is giving me from the dissolution of our Democracy. But one thing I can’t get past is the ugly reality of how much our country is the domain of white men, and how little there is left over for anyone else. I am a privileged part of that other, a white woman. I have a considered myself a feminist for all my life. Now I recognize that I am an intersectional feminist, and am coming to feel that these retreats are a feminist act. AGOS is my business, I am a female small business owner. I produce them primarily with my own labor and creativity. I create them for people, the majority of which have been women, to foster their creativity, to hold space for them while they nurture themselves. My goal is not to make money (good thing), not to build a brand, not to gain notoriety, impress anyone. My goal is to foster community and connection through Craft. Primarily for women, but also for everyone interested. I am in a position to produce these retreats to give back to my community, give back to my gender (however it may present or identify). I know that the price tag for these is more than many can afford, and that bothers me. This year I will again offer two scholarships for each retreat (more info to come). Still, even for those women who can afford these retreats, they have likely spent many, many years doing for others, to the detriment of themselves. The fact that American women get no compensation for raising and taking care of the next generation, our Nation’s future, often while working, and trying to have some time for their own hearts, infuriates me. I am not going to get on my political soapbox here. And I am stretching this definition a bit, but these retreats are my tiny balm for the souls of all the women who participate, and that gives me great satisfaction, and, at the risk of sounding grand, gives meaning to my life. We all have our small roles to play in keeping the universe afloat. I am committed to my tiny part.

I finally bought one of Cal Patch’s smocks!

testing the fit of my self drafted muslin.

Wearing some AGOS swag…. Thank you Lucy Vail!

In these modern days of dissolution when all our systems are being exposed for their inequity and imbalance. When our politicians are showing their true, greedy, power-hungry, colors. We are at a crossroads. We can continue down the patriarchal, consumerist, racist, capitalistic path. Or we can willingly choose another path. Write our own script.

There is a conversation going around about how to move forward in this decaying capitalist system, particularly for small businesses. We are all so plugged into social media, but the reality is those platforms are owned and controlled by white men with capitalist motivations, who write our scripts. No matter how much they may protest otherwise, they want our content, our creativity, our engagement for their own purposes. To make money for themselves. They basically ‘sell’ our creativity to advertisers, so every time I post something with my creative energy a whole bunch of white men make money from it. Make no mistake, I also benefit from my posts. I connect with my ‘people’, I spread the word about my small business. But I am not setting the agenda, not writing my script, and I have no control over who actually sees what I post. I have very little control over my intellectual content. (And as an aside, I kinda hate the word content, especially when attached to the word ‘creators’, because it sounds cold and mercenary, but it is the term being used, and in this case covers the ground I need it to.) I would love to find another way to consistently communicate with people. I am posting here on my blog, and I will be more consistent with my newsletters. I will, also, continue to post on social media, because I want to reach my ‘people’, wherever I may find them.

This conversation is ongoing, and I am listening, and contributing where I have something to say. Listening more of the time. I am very curious to hear what other more involved people have to say. People like Sonya Renee Taylor, Aja Barber, and Gretchen Jones. Their attention to these issues gives me the smallest flicker of hope that there will be something after this decaying patriarchal, capitalist, racist, system comes crashing down.

In the meantime, I will produce retreats for all that want to come and reclaim, reignite, reinforce, their Making skills. For I do believe that in this digital age, analog skills are still very important for the human condition, and the human community. Dare I say it, for civilization. I hear from people that I haven’t seen in years, that my fervor for the act of Making, with your skills and your agency, strikes a chord for them. It is a good thing for me to hear, it is encouragement. Oxygen for my fire. Breast Cancer is a blip on my radar. I will get through it. I will be at Medomak Retreat Center for three weeks this Summer with various groups of engaged Makers. I hope that some of you reading this will be there with me. It’s gonna be good.

silliness in a clothing swap acquisition

mid-retreat, feeling full, alive