Happy Solstice, Happy Summer

Light, blessings, kindness, peace, joy, and all the love in the world

Yesterday, a dear friend told me that she rescued a horse and named it Suzie. Her daughter rides horses, and at their stable, they learned a horse was due to go to the meat market yesterday. She sent some great pictures of Suzie, who is one striking horse! I didn’t think much of the naming, until my friend sent another message, in which she couldn’t stop laughing. She realized she hadn’t explained the Suzie connection or the reason she rescued the horse and the tradition behind it.

The funny thing is, I hadn’t thought anything was weird about it at all, and then she explained. I’m still riding on a wave of speechlessness.

On the longest light-filled day of the year, this seems as good a day as any to celebrate all the visions and versions of gratitude, kindness, thoughtfulness, and love I have been humbled to experience since the beginning of this cancer journey back in 2024 and especially over the last three months, a time when I expected to be done with treatment. Instead of kicking back, I wound up having two emergency surgeries, a bad infection related to the breast expander that required hospitalization, and, after the second surgery, weakened lungs that led to another hospitalization and a strange bacterial infection that sparked pneumonia. I was home and recovering from pneumonia when the awesome folks at the Terri Brodeur Breast Cancer Foundation interviewed me for their survivor series, which is here.

By the time the article was published, I learned that there had been a recurrence of the breast cancer, which meant we needed to act fast, e.g. starting a new chemo. I cannot sing the praises of the medical providers enough. As I mentioned in the Terri Brodeur article, I came into this diagnosis with significant medical trauma, and thanks to these wonderful, caring, mountain-moving medical providers, I’ve experienced some profound healings.

There is a one-woman show in the events of the last two weeks alone, but for now, I’ll say, it’s been lot, a lot, a lot. Currently, I am getting stronger day by day and healing in an acute care program. This recovery is slow, and that slowness is its own gift.

In times of crisis and vulnerability, the smallest gestures of care can inspire profound gratitude. When my late cousin Karen was ill, she had a scary night at the hospital, and I was with her through some very harrowing moments until she fell into a deep sleep at two o’clock in the morning. By then, she was at peace but I was not.

When I got home to Queens, I started sending desperate texts. Someone in her inner circle needed to be there early the next day. I had no idea what she might remember and seeing someone she loved and trusted in the morning felt crucial. Everyone was busy, so I set my alarm and made the early morning trip back to the hospital.

On the way, I stopped for green juices. The woman behind the counter poured me a ginger tea and said, “It’s on me.”

“Really? I said, my eyes welling.

That was all I needed to say. The woman came out from behind the counter and said, “May I pray with you?”

She grabbed my hands, closed her eyes, and said the most beautiful and reassuring words. Tears streamed down my face. Raw and moved by this stranger’s kindness, I told her what happened the night before.

“You watch. You’re going to walk into the room and she’s going to be good.”

Sure enough, ten minutes later, I walked into Karen’s room and she was sitting up in bed, wearing aquamarine, which made her blue eyes really pop. She looked stunning.

“Good morning!” she exclaimed, full of serenity and life.

I thought I was going to hyperventilate I was so relieved. She then asked me if we could write thank you cards, and I looked at her like she had four heads. She started laughing, “Ah, I see. Low priority today?”

Luckily, she had no memory of what happened the night before. Still, Karen was ace at reading the room (and reading me). So when the chaplain came in to offer Karen reiki, Karen, the person in the center of the storm, pointed to me and said generously, “She should go first.”

I was reminded of that moment earlier this week, when a simple and humane gesture from a nurse brought me to tears. She was being herself—kind, in-tune, aware of the person sitting in front of her. I didn’t need to take her up on her offer but the value of her offer made a lasting imprint.

There’s no way I can make a comprehensive list of the infinite kindness, care, thoughtfulness, love, and generosity that I have experienced. Calls, check-ins, healing sessions, green juice deliveries, people stepping in to make my life infinitely easier without me having to think or ask. I’ve not wanted for anything. One of my favorite sayings is Love is a Verb and the ways I have been shown Love is astounding. It’s humbling, it’s overwhelming, and most of all, it’s healing to my mind, body, and soul. Even my cells are smiling.

Love heals, make no mistake about that.

I have an adopted elderly aunt. She calls me “Lil Buddy” and makes me homemade soup. Everyone wants her special recipes and she says, “My secret ingredient is love.” She has strict guidance for me, and believe me, Lil Buddy is listening to every single word.

So back to the horse named Suzie!

Explaining the animal rescue, my friend sent me this:

The tradition is known as life release, or “fang sheng” in Chinese Buddhism. It symbolizes the deep compassion at the heart of the teachings, practicing non-violence and actively saving a life from imminent danger.

The idea is that by showing such profound kindness, you generate positive merit that can be dedicated to the health and longevity of someone you care about.

My friend also shared her beautiful intention in making this offering to Buddha.

I’m going to need A LOT more Kleenex.

I can’t wait until the day I meet Suzie the horse.

In the meantime, thank you, thank you, thank you in all ways—verbal, not verbal‚just…thank you from the bottom of my heart.

May you also feel surrounded by love, care, and gratitude.