Body as Landscape/Body as Art

by | Sep 30, 2024 | Finding the Words | 4 comments

Deb:

For decades, maybe most of my life (since my father, an Earth Science teacher, started telling me about geomorphology when I was a kid), I’ve been an ardent student of landscapes. Part of that, as a professional geologist, was developing studies to characterize the geology of sites that would be developed in some way or needed to be remediated after being contaminated. In that capacity, I’m a big fan of phased investigations—do an initial study, take those results, then go deeper (figuratively, for sure, and in geology, oftentimes literally).

I was surprised to find myself thinking in that same way, while discussing the best course of action with the surgeon and oncologist when I was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2010. It was then that I began to think of my body as a landscape. And the same sense of curiosity that drives me in geological studies, helped me through the cancer treatment process.

Because it was detected early and it was not an aggressive cancer, I felt I had some flexibility in the decision-making process. Which is not to say that I dithered about those decisions (as finding out I had cancer was motivation not to delay), but I felt I could take the days I needed to consider the options presented to me.

I had that time, due to early detection. So the message I want to convey, on the eve of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, is this—do monthly breast self-exams, get regular clinical breast exams, and get your mammograms—because the science shows that early detection increases breast cancer survival rates enormously. According to the American Cancer Society, when breast cancer is detected early (that is, early stage disease, in a localized state) the 5-year relative survival rate is 99%.

Holly:

As little as a year ago, I took my unbroken body for granted. I rarely thought about brokenness, disease, or mortality, at least with respect to me. Then a routine mammogram changed all that. It turned out not to be routine at all. Today, my reflection in the mirror shows scars as proof of how close we all can be to brokenness, but I also observe a body that has healed from surgeries and chemical bombardments. I see my scars and think of the Japanese art form of Kintsugi where broken pottery is mended with gold. Just like a broken vessel, our bodies, with the help of amazing medical treatments and caregivers, can be rendered into a new piece of art, more unique and exquisite than before the break. Wholly beautiful, in truth. My art is part of my healing.

So, Holly and I—both survivors of breast cancer, and both so much more than that—found the words and hope these words speak to you, in whatever way you need them to. Perhaps you’ll schedule an overdue mammogram, or get through another day of treatment just a bit easier, or feel more deeply that you are so much more than a diagnosis, or you’ll remember to call a friend who might need a ride to the doctor or just to hear your voice. We wish you health and wholeness this Breast Cancer Awareness Month and always.

artwork by Holly Moxley

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4 Comments

  1. Carolyn

    Excellent, beautiful, and wise post, my dear friend. Thank you!

    Reply
  2. Serin

    Such an important message to share – thank you, Deb!

    Reply
  3. GERRY STIREWALT

    Dear Deb … This is a truly exceptional essay from you and Holly that is beautifully embellished by her art that was created as part of her healing process. Thank you both for sharing these deeply personal thoughts. Gerry

    Reply

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Geologists study the earth and the processes that shape it. Writers study the human heart and the processes that shape it. The GeologistWriter builds a bridge between the two. Come across it with me!

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