Wilderness

I started chemo the week we began reading the Book of Numbers, called in Hebrew “Bamidbar” — trans, “in the wilderness.”

I have not met a wilderness quite like this. Phase I of chemo will be the most challenging and the time frame runs roughly within this fourth book of Torah, hopefully concluding in early July, a week before the last portions of Bamidbar when we recite the phrase marking the end of a book and the beginning of a new one—“Chazak, chazak v’nitchazek.” Be strong, be strong and may we be strengthened.

How do we find strength in the wilderness? How do I dwell in my body that feels such deep waves of fatigue, it’s as if all my limbs are weighed down by a heavy blanket? The Israelites were well versed in crushing fatigue—they had been slaves in Egypt. The journey through the desert had its physical burdens, different than before, scary and new.

Amidst the physical, the challenge to spiritual endurance seems to be the most defining of the wilderness. As I take each step, as the waves of side effects ebb and change, I pray the return to healing light in my mind and soul pierces through. It is so comforting to know that the smell of lavender awakens calm, that the light of the sun on my face tingles my skin, that a song about sister’s rising with courage can open a flood of tears. Strength accompanies spiritual exhaustion when circles of care and prayer remind me that I am not alone.

I’m reminded of the Joshua trees that would pass in a blur through the car window when we drove through the majestic and haunting Mojave desert. Every car ride of my childhood through the Mojave brought the delight of seeing those trees dance—stubbornly and with dogged spirit. Yes, even in the desert we just might dance. For in its essence, at its root, midbar is the stuff, the things, the words, the morrow of life. Wilderness may be disorienting and foreign, but I believe it’s also made of all that we need to become, as the chapters of life keep unfolding. Through pain and fear, may we make our way to health and light, to dance anew.