I thought I was cancer free. After a year of treatment — chemo, surgery, radiation, menopause shots — I thought I was done. I rang the bell. I was starting to believe in my own survival.
Then one last round of CT results came back. Shadows on my lungs. Back on the merry go round of inconclusive tests, last week I had a lung biopsy. These are not fun.
This week I’ve been recovering — from the choking, from the needles deep inside. I asked my old dog-eared Waite Smith deck what I could learn from this time and turned over the 10 of Swords, saw myself lying on my back full of sharp wounds. But in the background, dawn was breaking.
I started to feel better. And just as I started to feel better, I did the thing I do:
I forgot about limitations.
I want so badly for a cycle to be done, I throw myself into a dream of the future.
I took my daughter, my sister, and my not-yet-healed self horseback riding.
I wanted to be near animals. We rocked gently through sun-dappled forest on the backs of Cinnamon, Flame, and Chérie. My 6-year-old talked gleefully the whole time, to the helper, the horse, to the trees. My sister laughed as Cinnamon scratched her ass on pine trees. Flame was careful with me. Steady.
The next morning I had a tension headache that started between my shoulder blades and wrapped around my skull like a crown. The muscles between my shoulders haven't recovered from my bilateral mastectomy. I got sent back to the bed with the swords to complete the lesson.
It was worth it. The pain of living is worth it.
Slowly I felt better, again.
And then it was my birthday — 45 and alive.
I was waiting for biopsy results. I was floating in uncertainty.
But I felt happy. Loved. Free. I rocked gently on Flame's back in my dreams.
I don’t quite recognize this body anymore — Strange scars. Menopause weight. Breasts shaped by surgeries and drugs. But I'm beginning to see this battered gourd as a temple to the life that’s still inside me. I'm learning to worship here.
At the party my family and lake neighbours threw — our now-annual Birthday Flotilla, with a fresh new "Fuck Cancer" theme — I popped bottles and floated and let myself feel joy.
It was strange and overwhelming, but true: I felt less self-conscious than I ever have in my entire life.
And the next morning: the call.
All my biopsy results were negative.
More tests to come. Drugs to adjust.
But for now, at least, let's call it cancer free.
In our upcoming podcast episode, you’ll hear philosopher and high Wiccan priest Jack Chanek talk about magic, meaning, and a spell he calls:
Stacking the Deck.
It’s from his book Tarot for the Magically Inclined — a method for using your cards to shape your will, and choose your future.
In those fear-drenched days after getting the results of the CT scan that sent me spiralling and scream-crying in my car, I turned to my craft harder than I ever have before.
You can think abstractly about why people turn to magic or religion, look down your nose from a far distance at your own interest in ancient practices, until you teeter between life and death for a month and need to hold onto your sanity and feel in some way part of the tapestry, the flipping probabilities, the meaning-making of it all.
"For many people magic is other people's religion," and what looks like prayer from from the inside often looks like magic from outside." (Chanek in Tarot, quoting DuBois in Out of Athens.)
I laid cards. I sang spells. I laughed and cried with the coven, the synchronicities, the spirits. I listened to endless episodes of Greeking Out with my kiddo, and we invoked the Goddess. I thought about quantum entanglement and Schrodinger's cat waiting in the box, purring her own cat incantations. I'll tell you all about the dripping magic of those days, some day. It had something to do with the glowing beauty of beyond knowing.
Poet Andrea Gibson died of their Cancer the day before my birthday. They wrote:
"There is a big difference between a truth and an answer. When I land on a truth, I feel my being stretching like sunlight far beyond my physical body, and I experience the thoughts in my mind as passing clouds. And, when I find answers, they very often turn out to be just clouds." (In Praise of Not Knowing.)
They are stretched with the sunlight now, and I mourn them, and am so thankful for the way they left their truth with us.
In my own spiral of not-knowing, I came to feel this sunlit joy. A truth, not an answer. A kind of euphoria.
I stacked the deck, jumped off the dock, laughed as my mind sought symbols everywhere, lived as the passing cloud.
And friends, life echoed the spread.
💊 This week’s prescription:
Let yourself feel loved. Imagine love like a golden light singing ancient songs through all your cells.
Play with your craft and let it hold you.
Dream your future.
Look for the symbols that sing with the story you want to live.
Stack the deck.
And stay tuned for Thursday’s episode with Jack Chanek.
Featured Events
New Friends Circle - RSVP
Saturday, Jul 19, 5:00 PM - 7:00 PM EDT
"Welcome friends! Join us for a New Friends Circle - for everyone and anyone who'd like to connect, chat, share, bitch, rage, joy and get to know each other in our 🐝✨Missing Witches Coven✨🐝
When? Saturday, online - 3pm MST/6pm Atlantic
This informal group is for anyone who wants to connect, especially the new-bees! Bring a story, bring yourself, bring a show and tell item - share whatever you want (and if you wanna vibe - that's also valid!)
Let's connect in a safe and welcoming coven space.
*Access Needs Statement*
We are a Coven that strives to create a space that is as loving, accepting, and honouring of each other's access needs as possible. When we gather, our magic radiates outward, and little by little, the world becomes more loving, accepting, and nurturing, too. So mote it be.
Personal introductions (describe yourself so others may visualize you), and avoiding ableist/sanist language is the goal.
If you have any access needs required for the online meet up - please connect with us. " Hosted by Jasmin + Aine.
Sending love and cards that shine in your favour,
Risa + Amy
🖤🌕✨
PS. All our events are free for paying members of the Missing Witches Coven.
We believe in accessible, community-supported magic. When you support the project, you help weave a sustainable spell of collective care, creativity, and resistance. Thank you.
