Claire Jones

A 50% Chance of Paralysis

Lotus Woman in Recovery Looks to the Canopy

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Note: Below are writing excerpts from Claire Jones’ memoir in progress: Sista Survivor: A Diary of An Immigrant’s Spiritual Journey to Legitimacy

Writing # 1Title: Sister Survivors Rise Above the Chaos In Clarity, Awareness, Presence, Acceptance and Gratitude

The well-known spiritual guide and teacher Eckhart Tolle once said, “Always say ‘yes’ to the present moment… Surrender to what is. Say ‘yes’ to life – and see how life suddenly starts working for you rather than against you.” No matter our backgrounds, we women survivors must focus on Clarity, Awareness, Presence, Acceptance, and Gratitude to reclaim our lives.

To live, many women like myself have learned to survive first. Having lived a multi-faceted and multicultural life amid numerous challenges, I believe that for women like myself to live stable and meaningful lives, we must instill Clarity, Awareness, Presence, Acceptance, and Gratitude as a daily, consistent practice. In other words, for life to begin working for us, it is essential to unflinchingly ground ourselves from deep within our truths to determine a self-defined purpose. I know this because I came to embrace such a philosophy as a personal daily practice, and I am here to tell you that it works.

As survivors starting at a disadvantage, how can we take charge and win daily? How can we live in a multicultural world that is often violent and dismissive of our very essence? We have often had to care for others above ourselves, frequently losing our autonomy. Then, one day, we wake up on the other side of 50, and everyone is gone: we are left with a shell of ourselves, struggling to find a way forward in an ever-changing world. What are we to do in a moment like this? How do we regain our footing when we have entangled

our lives with others for so long?

Sadly, from our positions of imposed powerlessness, many of us have repressed our deepest desires. Those of us who dare to push past the boundaries of the normalized and acceptable are told our way is rebellious and ill-informed. Subliminally, it is impressed upon our psyches that sexism is in our heads, sexual harassment is acceptable, racism is a thing of the past, and our thoughts are irrelevant. If we choose the path of the pioneer as marginalized individuals, our lifestyle choice is radical. So, we settled. We got lost in relationships, hiding behind our husbands or partners, wrapped our dreams in the fabric of our children’s lives, and tried to toe the line as daughters-in-law and co-workers, hoping to shine one day in the boardroom.

Nonetheless, we stand at a crossroads in these turbulent and unpredictable times. I believe that our time is now, and we have a window of opportunity regarding the pressing issues related to our sexual autonomy, speaking out, and determining our paths forward as individuals empowered within our bodies and our sexual identities. We have a window of opportunity in our politics to fight for that long-overdue seat at the table. We have a window of opportunity to stand with our daughters as they forge on the day’s issues that impact their lives. We have a window of opportunity to take charge of our lives in every sphere.

We know we have political problems infiltrating every aspect of our society. How do women like us, who challenge the norms, are often seen as usurpers, as “losers,”? How do we bring about change in a society that continually invades our privacy, invalidates, and undermines our very nature? The only way we bring about the change we desire is to find our center and stabilize our lives first and then move from there.

To rise above these many embedded problems, I have found a way to get the most out of life. One must strive to become consistently clear, aware, and present first. I learned firsthand that accepting one’s situation is achievable once these three fundamentals are established. After the battle to accept and take responsibility for one’s life in all its light and shadow, it is time to develop gratitude for ourselves and all we have overcome. Following this path in a consistent and daily way that suits your life circumstances will allow your life to flow to a positive result.

When one allows life to flow naturally, it becomes more comfortable, with consistent practice, to unravel the many issues that suppress and repress one’s life situation. Once you begin to see the daily application of this method, helping you deal with life’s ups and downs, you start to feel confident no matter your life condition. Life will do what life will do, but when you bring clarity, awareness, presence, acceptance, and gratitude to all problematic areas of your life, you realize that everything is manageable because you operate from a peaceful and steadfast core. This new way of being results in a feeling of freedom no matter what life throws at you. You can recreate and reclaim your life story from this place.

Hopefully, many sister survivors like myself can relate. Since life is unpredictable and male-focused, we have all experienced obstacles in some way: girls, young women, career women, mothers, wives, single women, single moms, grandmothers, and great-grandmothers. Women like us have survived and taught our girls how to survive in this male-dominated society that negates people like us. Believe it or not, whether we knew it or not, it took the presence of mind and clarity of thought to get here: women like us have grounded ourselves in awareness, clarity, presence, acceptance, and gratitude to make it to where we are now.

As a survivor of a plethora of traumas and stressors stemming from childhood domestic violence, I have awakened to a new life based on these essential principles. This new way of being in the world allowed me to access who I am as a living being inhabiting the body of a Black Caribbean woman who started with no financial inheritance. Living in this space means you are grounded and centered in who you are as a human, spiritual being, and a woman. When you understand the significance of these fundamentals and the power they give you to surge forward when applied to your life, you will realize your purpose here on Earth.

Once you enter alignment with your goal, you feel a sense of freedom that allows you to fly. Focusing on a consistent, daily practice that suits you and your new lifestyle is the first step to maintaining clarity, awareness, presence, acceptance, and gratitude daily. Discovering this new way of living is a personal journey best done in solitude. No person, thing, or situation can hold you back once you tap into your joy.

A few years back, on a gorgeous summer evening atop beautiful Mount Sunapee, New Hampshire, I had a fantastic experience that significantly impacted my life. It was the day of my friend’s wedding. The red and black silk kimono I wore that day was a goodbye gift from a Japanese friend after living as an expatriate in Tokyo; Japan suddenly ended. The view from Mount Sunapee was one of the most beautiful sights I ever saw. The moment was rife with beginnings and endings.

Fortunately, my journey to good health was in progress after learning of a devastating health diagnosis. Called monoclonal gammopathy of undetermined significance (MGUS), the disease can lead to multiple myeloma, a rare blood cancer. My teenage daughter, who was next to me, was experiencing her first wedding as a young lady, and the bride, our friend, was marrying her childhood sweetheart after years of doubting a moment like this would ever be hers. In our way, each of us was a survivor standing on the precipice of a new beginning. A picture of me standing against a backdrop of rolling greens atop a majestic mountain beneath an expansive blue sky remains deep in my mind. However, you would have never guessed that moment’s complexity and the following tragedy.

A few months later, the groom died a violent death. The bride was devastated and grieved in all ways. To this day, I have no words to comfort her. Day by day, she puts one foot in front of the other, from moment to moment, surviving in the only way she knows how through her work while healing others. On the other hand, a few months after dealing with my devastating health diagnosis, I wept as I learned of the story behind her loss. One year older, my teen daughter was also experiencing a new frontier in her health struggle as she learned about a diagnosis of generalized anxiety, further complicating a complex health situation. Yet, the photo of me smiling with Mount Sunapee’s glorious landscape in the background remained a beautiful moment captured by the camera’s lens amidst the obstacles and chaos erupting in our lives.

We met in my friend’s office to discuss the results from my new labs and finally spoke about the incredible journey that had unfolded since that gorgeous day on top of beautiful Mount Sunapee. My health situation had improved in most areas. My daughter was finally courageously facing her health diagnosis and preparing for graduation from high school, while our friend, now a widow, moved into a new condo to start a new life. As we shared our updates, a thunderstorm unfolded around us, the winds and rain churning and whipping leaves and branches outside as we reminisced. It was as if nature wiped clean a fateful slate that started months before under a pure, blue sky. Later, I told my friend it felt like the universe granted us closure to a dark chapter, allowing us to move on.

Just recently, right in the middle of the holidays, just after one year in remission from lymphoma, I learned the proteins for my MGUS diagnosis elevated, and I needed to have a bone marrow biopsy done. After a year of struggling to recover from cancer and near paralysis, this was devastating news. During my recovery, I coined “get ahead of life before life gets ahead of you,” a personal call to action to stop living a reactive life and embrace a more responsive attitude. Coupled with my daily practice of clarity, awareness, presence, acceptance, and gratitude and my Buddhist practice, I used these methods to rise above the noise from my inner negative self to face this new and unforeseen hurdle. In doing so, I moved into 2024 in a calm and serene space. I was able to stand firm as I learned about a new diagnosis of smoldering myeloma, which is another stage leading to multiple myeloma. Thankfully, doctors say I am stable.

Sister Survivors, as a long-term member of this sisterhood of survivorship, I urge you to rise, to stand tall, for our moment has come. Let us put aside our fears and doubts, put aside shame, put aside competition, put aside passive aggressiveness, put aside sarcasm, small-mindedness, and pettiness. Rise! Let us arrive fully in our moment and awaken our lives to the presence and clarity we have always unwittingly embraced. Whether acknowledged or not, it has brought us here and to now. It is our time to flow! We can do nothing about the past because we only have now. We must find the courage to go on because ‘the now,’ like Eckhart Tolle often says, is

all there is. The beautiful lotus flower thrives in mud, yet the dirt never defiles it. Despite all the tragedy unfolding around us, the sun never fails to shine, and life goes on on this big blue marble called Earth. There is much suffering, but light and beauty are always there if we dare to seek it. It is best to be grateful and live fully because we have survived it all.

Thankfully, I am a sister survivor who has finally returned to my center of power: my true self. Likewise, many of you have become vibrationally aligned with your reality and power over the last few years. As a sister who has survived, I ask you to fully take back your lives by saying ‘yes’ to awareness, clarity, presence, acceptance, and gratitude. Say yes and take necessary action so that life can begin working for you.

To close my dearest sisters, take heed to these famous words by Ralph Waldo Emerson, poet, lecturer, essayist, and visionary: “It is easy to live for others. Everybody does. I call on you to live for yourselves.” Sister survivors, let us unbox ourselves! Unpackage our lives! It is time to put aside our insecurities to come into our own. After all, if we do not give our lives the nourishment needed, who will? Time after time, we have put aside our deepest and most tightly-held dreams and desires to help others grow and shine. Now it is our time to come into our own, to let our inner glow show. Let us not be afraid. Let us embrace awareness and clarity while rooting ourselves in presence, acceptance, and gratitude to live our best lives. The time has come to align and to flow into our own. We are finally here.

The time is now!

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Writing #2 Title: Cancer: A Sister Survivor’s Reality Check

Being Black: being human

Being black

What does it mean?

Does it mean being poor?

Uneducated?

Unsophisticated?

Being black?

Does it mean being second best?

Well in my insecurity, within

My sphere

It meant all these things

But

Why?

How was I made to feel this way?

I’ve come to the realization that

Feeling this way was not

Self-imposed

No Way!

Being black to me meant

Being on the bottom rung

Always hoping

Only wishing

So I pretended to be colorless

To live in a bubble

I was secure

But security and insecurity have no shape

No color

No size

Formless

Colorless

Just emotion

Just feeling

Now I know I am somebody

I am someone

I am Black.

Wouldn’t it have been a shame if I had died?

Colorless?

Note: watch my biographical documentary, A 50 Percent Chance Of Paralysis, includes the performance of the above poem

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“When I dare to be powerful—to use my strength in the service of my vision, then it becomes less and less important whether I am afraid.” ~Audre Lorde 

A Warning Unheeded 

Sitting on my couch, I felt what I likened to a large butterfly landing on my upper spine beneath my skin. The ethereal creature softly wrapped its wings around my spine and melted into my body. Immediately, I felt a deep burning and discomfort in the same area. I rapidly shrugged my shoulders back and forth as the disconcerting feeling ran up and down my back. This situation happened in January 2022, a few days before my 59th birthday.

Sitting next to my daughter as we wrapped up the last day of a months-long virtual business course, I was exhausted from recently learning about my mother’s death in Barbados and burned out from another challenging year. COVID was on the rise again; we were heading into foreclosure; my marriage of almost 22 years was tanking, and I was inexplicably tired and ached everywhere constantly from what I thought were menopausal symptoms. Plus, I was sad for not seeing my mother at the end. My Mom and I were estranged for a while, and my situation – health, financial and otherwise, plus hostile relationships with extended family members, made it impossible to do anything.

As we closed the Zoom meeting to our final session, I anxiously informed my daughter about my otherworldly experience. Over the next few months, the pain in my back increased, I lost my appetite, bulbous hives grew on my lip, I began to lose my ability to walk, my nose bled daily, and the discomfort in my upper back worsened. Looking back on that weird situation, I believe that otherworldly creature might have been my mother’s spirit, showing me the exact spot where the cancer was embedded. I remember reading years ago about how, after people die, family members sometimes see butterflies in their homes. Butterflies represent the afterlife, and their presence could mean the soul of a loved one is present. This memory comforted me over time, and today, I genuinely feel my mother came to visit me as an ethereal wraith to warn me of my pending health crisis. However, the warning went unheeded until I faced the devastating truth months later of a cancerous tumor wrapped around my upper spine like a doughnut precisely in the same area where the mysterious ethereal wraith melted and wrapped onto my spine months before.

CANCER: Everything Comes Crashing Down

Brrrrrtrrrrrm! The sound of my 4:30 AM meditation alarm jolts me from a fitful sleep. It is March 24th, 2022, and the last day I have entirely walked without a walking aid for months.

Calm and present, I am grateful for this day

Still half asleep, I swung my five-foot-two frame over the reclining chair and gathered my entire body, including my weighted legs, dragging myself with the help of a cane to the bathroom on the lower floor of my house. As I crossed into the kitchen, my bladder broke, and my wide-legged black yoga pants immediately grabbed my legs in a wet hug. Alarmed at this new development, I grabbed a cabinet to stabilize myself, still trying to avoid the crisis. Finally, I reached the bathroom and plopped down on the cold, covered seat holding the wooden cane in front of me in the small, darkened room. I sat there until seven o’clock, refusing to accept that the numbing coldness, fast-moving upward from beneath my feet towards the bottom of my breasts, was happening. In my head, I calculated all the theoretical problems that could arise if I called out to my daughter to let her know I was in trouble. Who would take care of the house? How would my family manage the bills? As a Black immigrant woman, would I be safe in a white medical system? What kind of doctors would I have? How would my new business venture move forward? COVID!??! How will I manage that complication? Would the problems in my marriage increase?

After twenty-two years as a homemaker and caretaker of an invisibly disabled now young adult, who would help my daughter? At the time, my husband was not emotionally present, and we were contemplating divorce; who would take care of me in this scenario? What about the house? We were heading to foreclosure because of complications related to a COVID forbearance after our loan was sold to an unscrupulous loan provider. Would I even have a home to come back to? And what about our cat, who has PTSD and chronic stomach problems? She is my daughter’s ESA (Emotional Support Animal). What about her?

STOP!!!

All these racing thoughts suddenly crumbled in a jumble of words at my feet as I tried to stand, only to crash to the floor. Then I realized the weighed bands I wanted to order from Amazon for my legs to work again would not solve this problem. Finally, letting go of my pseudo-control, I yelled for my daughter to call the ambulance as I looked up from my reclined position on the floor to see the early morning sun creeping through the slats of the white bathroom window for the first time.

A few hours later, I was lying on a bed in the emergency room as the cold kept creeping up from my lower body, and an emergency room doctor informed me that there was a considerable mass wrapped around my spine. They might not be able to take care of it there.

This statement heralded my journey into a reality I could not escape. I went from being diagnosed with invisible disabilities – C-PTSD, agoraphobia, and panic disorder, to suddenly becoming physically disabled two weeks after my mental health diagnosis. Within six days, I lost my ability to move. As I write this from my bed in July 2022, ten days of radiation and almost four cycles of chemo/immunotherapy sessions later, four blood transfusions, eight weeks locked in a brace that could only come off when I was in bed, a short stint in a live-in rehabilitation facility, wheelchairs, walkers, countless appointments, in-home physical therapy, occupational therapy, and nurses visits, I can say the only thing that has kept me sane is my Buddhist practice of over thirty years and a personal self-help system I developed when I first learned of my potential to contract myeloma called Clarityisjustsohip: Clarity, Awareness, Presence, Acceptance And Gratitude. I run my negative thoughts and emotions repetitively through each to cleanse my emotional palette whenever I am in crisis. Through it all, I maintain a steady Buddhist meditation practice, allowing me to see the light deep within this darkness. As a result, I am healing and able to share this story, from tragedy to hope and resilience, to all who might choose to listen.

Nunc Corpei! Now I begin! 

Calm and present, I am grateful for another day. 

Reality Check

One early morning, as I went about my chores, I uttered an affirmation in my kitchen. Louise Hay’s audio “Heal Your Body” was blasting and rigged to my ears via my rose-colored Beats headphones. She said the affirmation “I release the patterns within me that created this situation” would dissolve negative patterns and heal one’s life. Soon after saying those charged words, my life crashed and burned. I repeatedly said it, desperate for my sedentary life to shake out.

By the next day, I saw an undeniable shift when my cat and I suffered gastrointestinal issues. We later learned she ingested plastics with her food, and we put her on a strict diet. Soon after, I ate a diet that reduced histamines and citric acid because my gut writhed in pain whenever I ate foods that contained them. However, this was tough because most foods contain both. I was placed on medication for complicated post-menopausal hormonal issues. Following Louise Hay’s instructions to keep repeating the affirmations until things cleared, I saw a rapid and massive improvement in my life just a few months after surgery. Curious, I read the comments under the YouTube video and noticed those who listened to the audio said the affirmation also worked for them.

My cancer crisis occurred on March 24th, 2022. Since then, my life has not been the same. The more I said the affirmation, the more I saw the dysfunction and negativity within my life seep and leap into my physical environment, ending with my sudden immobility. Thank goodness I chanted and consistently did my Buddhist prayers alongside the affirmation. I constantly counteracted the fallout from the darkness that swirled by invoking my Buddhist chant, Nam-Myoho-Renge-Kyo, for my protection.

Ultimately, I was admitted to the hospital, still saying the affirmation while holding my beads and prayer book and chanting simultaneously. Immediately, I imagined my entire being sitting in the lotus position at the center of a white lotus flower in worship. At the same time, I verbally renounced all the negative thoughts that became my toxic companions over the years, telling them this was their stop to get off. Finally, I accepted the reality of my situation and grounded myself in presence, knowing my journey back up would be long and arduous. I did not expect the result to be a massive cancerous growth to appear on my spine and wreak havoc in my life, forcing me to confront issues of low self-worth, shame, guilt, and self-sabotage I held at bay for years as I laid on my back in a brace that allowed barely any movement for eight weeks: only able to look forward and not up, down or left or right—a fitting metaphor. Finally, from a place of inner peace, I could share my story of human revolution in this lifetime.

Louise Hay and Nichiren Daishonin’s Buddhism posits that one chooses one’s life and everything before birth. As a result, I believe I chose this scenario to happen at this precise moment; therefore, I can handle it. This positive attitude has significantly contributed to my rapid healing and has confounded many of those around me who witnessed its unfolding. Viewing all that happened since invoking the affirmation, I let go. I accepted all outcomes by grounding myself in Clarity, Awareness, Presence, Acceptance, and Gratitude: ClarityIsJustSoHip!

As I moved through the healthcare system, I saw the reality of life through Shayamuni’s eyes, as he had done so long ago. Nothing clears your head more than seeing those confronting the life struggles of old age, sickness, death, and birth daily and consistently. I saw nurses assisting a birth in the emergency room and aging men and women trying to recover from illnesses that placed them in hospital and rehabilitation. Before arriving in my place within the system, I learned of the death of my estranged mother. The three weeks I spent away from home after emergency surgery would change my life forever.

I accepted everything, went with the flow, and let go.

Stay safe and protected in your brilliant light, I told myself as I went.

Determined To Win

“Believe in this mandala with all your heart. Nam-myoho-renge-kyo is like the roar of a lion. What sickness can therefore be an obstacle?” Reply to Kyo’o – WND-1, 412

When I close my eyes, I see myself lying in a hollowed-out tree base on a smooth, neat, umber-colored sand bed. The shape of the space is like the inside of a carved-out acorn. For some reason, I cannot see my body but can feel it, and I am lying on my back looking up at the greenest canopy of trees way above. Peeking out at the top of the gently swaying canopy is an endless, cloudless, clear, azure sky to meditate on. A deep, inner whisper tells me if I can get to the top of that canopy, I will walk again. So, I set out to do so internally. This little secret is unknown to doctors who wondered why I was healing so fast.

“I will be walking by the end of summer,” I told one of the visiting nurses as she assessed my at-home setup. Looking down at her medical notes, she quickly shook her head in disbelief and said, “Now, you don’t want to get ahead of yourself there. Do not even think about it, as that’s not going to happen for several months.” Lying down on my back, just right with elevated pillows and surrounded by all the necessary accruements for a disabled person, I looked up at her and chuckled under my breath, “you just watch me.”

Lying in bed, flat on my back with a brace that firmly clasped my neck and chin in one position while strapped to my diaphragm, would undoubtedly elicit a response like that from anyone. Right? But if you knew me and how I approach life, you would quickly understand that telling you I will walk by the end of summer under such a dire situation was a done deal.

It. Was. Done.

The Light

Over the past years, I discovered self-healing could only begin when one comes to terms with all aspects of self. For true healing to take place, all deep-rooted dysfunctions must be accessed and excised. Deep healing is only effective when all barriers and constraints no longer rule. In other words, to make proper and lasting progress, the cause of the crisis or illness must be first tackled and addressed at the root.

As a survivor of childhood domestic violence and sexual trauma, and the now lone survivor of the nuclear family where all this dysfunction arose, my parents and brother have all passed, step by sometimes tortured step I continue to peel back and unravel the layers from the after-effects of the inter-generational trauma that sucked the very life out of my family line for generations.

Just recently, right in the middle of the holidays, just after one year in remission from lymphoma, I learned the proteins for my MGUS diagnosis elevated, and I needed to have a bone marrow biopsy done. After a year of struggling to recover from cancer and near paralysis, this was devastating news. During my recovery, I coined “get ahead of life before life gets ahead of you,” a personal call to action to stop living a reactive life and embrace a more responsive attitude. Coupled with my daily practice of clarity, awareness, presence, acceptance, and gratitude and my Buddhist practice, I used these methods to rise above the noise from my inner negative self to face this new and unforeseen hurdle. In doing so, I moved into 2024 in a calm and serene space. I was able to stand firm as I learned about a new diagnosis of smoldering myeloma, which is another stage leading to multiple myeloma. Thankfully, doctors say I am stable.

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Writing #3: Turning 50 Is A Bitch

Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding. Khalil Gibran

Once we acknowledge and face our imperfections, we can proceed with inner healing. Deep, internal cleansing can be a transformative life decision. Sometimes, we stumble and fall, but no matter the situation, getting back up is always an option or a choice. One’s inner self is strong enough to withstand or overcome any crisis if we trust it is possible.

Finding the courage to face my inner darkness was the best decision ever. I had no idea what doors would open or close; all I knew was a change was necessary. After years of steady, persistent work, my life is evolving and recharging. Facing our inner truths can be a traumatic and overwhelming experience. However, it is worth the effort. The benefits far outweigh the discomforts when a brand-new life is our reward, and our real purpose emerges: find the courage to face inner truths.

Man! Turning 50 is a Bitch!!! The big transition is here and ongoing. All my senses are attuned to the new reality of finally receiving my AARP card. Remembering anything short-term can be taxing. I want to remember the things I tend to forget, and the things I want to forget, I remember. I still love, and hunger for all life brings but at a slower pace.

Recently, I started receiving online advertisements for senior dating: Seniors Match. “We have a sweet senior single near you.” I read the email repeatedly at my computer because only

one word stuck out: ‘senior.’ Nowadays, I can hear the hands of time clicking as I get closer and closer to the day when it will be official.

Accepting this aging thing has not been easy. I keep noticing signposts in my environment, which subliminally shepherd me to understand that youth is slipping away. Online application forms no longer feature my birth date, 1963, on the first page. I must scroll a bit to find it. I can’t buy a bikini or even a one-piece swimsuit off the rack.

Nowadays, it takes me weeks to choose a swimsuit, and then I do it online because some sites have perfect illustrations of different body types to help me. I even care about healthcare, pensions, social security, and sensible shoes. Not one of these things ever bothered me before. Guiding my teenage daughter through her transition as she prepares for middle school adds even more fuel to my changes.

Not only do I have to worry about my hormonal shifts and drifts, but I also find myself counseling her about hers. Her transition helps to keep me grounded in mine because taking care of a pubescent girl is just as trying as navigating my premenopausal drama. I struggle with my ups and downs and grief regarding losing a self I never fully knew. Now, another unfamiliar me is strutting into the picture, demanding attention, and my daughter is sliding into the view next to me.

We have worked out a system and are helping each other through this process, but did anyone tell me that turning 50 starts when you turn 45? Nope! I started noticing the changes back then. Unfortunately, they are not letting up; they are only intensifying and expanding.

I never thought about it much because I always felt 50 would happen. I dreamed of turning 16, 20, 30, or even 40, but I needed more than getting to the halfway mark. Now, I find myself fully immersed. I am already here.

Meanwhile, my daughter’s thinking more and more about turning 14. She is delighted to finally not hide because she wears a bigger bra than most her age. I feel the pull of the big ‘Five-OH’ at every turn. It feels like an invisible magnet pulls the discombobulated pieces of my torn psyche back together from their scattered confines. I’m not too fond of it, but it is happening. Some days, I am scared, anxious, and filled with fear; others, I accept what is to come: a mere supplicant. I need a reference to look to and a way of answering my questions regarding these significant, burgeoning changes, which are rapidly approaching. I can hear the sharp whistle of time flying towards and past me all at once, and I cannot do anything about it.

Day by day, month by month, my outer shell betrays me even as I feel like a child. Sometimes, my ‘inside teenager‘ will try to break out and do crazy things like trying on skinny jeans or bikinis in department stores. However, she is quickly subdued when the outer me sees what I look like in the mirror, and things return to normal quickly. More and more, I realize I am not the master of time: time is the master of me. The inevitable is catching up rather quickly.

In my early twenties, I was baptized as a born-again Christian. The day of my baptism was exhilarating, and I rushed to change my clothes in the lady’s room. When I arrived, most of the women were in complete disarray. I was so shocked by what I saw that I embarrassedly averted my eyes. Most of the women baptized that day were much older, and I was amazed at how different they looked undressed. People I saw every Sunday and admired for their savvy appearance were coming undone. I had never seen so many sags and belly folds in my life.

Naively, I judged them at the time because I had nothing to worry about regarding my own youthful, smooth, toned body. Now, I am one of those women. Today, I am ashamed of how critical I was regarding the effects of their natural aging. I am no longer sneering at sags and folds on others because grown-up me now has personal body-image worries. I have a cup for my dental plate that replaces my two missing teeth. One day, I was chewing on chicken bones, and my denture broke off. After almost swallowing the darn thing,

I popped it in my bag and returned it to the dentist. I felt like a worn-out car returning to the auto shop for a tune-up. Plus, I am too chicken to get implants, so I walk around with them in my bag and put them in as needed. Maybe I should reconsider. I always thought I was going to have all my pearly whites.

When I was a little girl, I laughed at my Mom and Grandma when they had to put their teeth in a cup at night. Who’s laughing now? Somehow, I just never saw myself flowing flab all over the place with teeth missing; to boot, there is indeed a “circle of life:”

Everything is changing and shifting in my life. Every day brings a new development on one level or the other. Not only do I have to wear a panty liner all the time, but if I don’t, a good laugh or hard sneeze will certainly bring regrets and embarrassment.

Lately, I have wondered why there are so many products for women to keep themselves clean. You can find sprays, wipes, suppositories, and so on at most stores. There is an entire shelf area dedicated to feminine hygiene products. Are ‘they‘ trying to send us a message? When I think of it, these products are always there, but I seem to pay more attention nowadays. Why is that? 

The same thing goes for prunes and my obsession with fiber. I am always searching for fiber cereals with the highest fiber content. Constipation is an ongoing fear. I always need to feel free of all restrictions. I am leaning on fiber, and it is my best friend. It sets you free in more ways than one as you age. Life is such an enigma. When the collection in your medicine cabinet suddenly seems to be expanding with names you can’t even pronounce or understand, and visits to the doctor are more frequent, you know things are shifting fast.

Doctors prescribe medicines for ailments you once heard your mother and grandmother complain about; they give you other drugs to ward off the side effects and ward off the side effects of the other side effects. After my daughter was born, I was diagnosed with a thyroid condition, and the struggle to manage my weight began. It took me ten years to figure out that diets would never help me because hypothyroidism guaranteed I would always look a little bloated, or so I thought. Year by year, the list of ailments has grown and now includes asthma, high blood pressure, and a ‘happy light’ in winter for what I call my ‘seasonal light disorder issue.’ Lately, lower back pain has been constant.

Nighttime has become my official enemy. I have been a night person for as long as I can remember, but now I am a full-fledged bat. Settings up extra pillows in the correct position for padding are now part-time prep before I go to bed. Once they are in place, I have to force myself to go to bed because I know if I don’t, waking up in the morning will be hell unless I take the little blue pill that eases my stress and anxiety as well as keeps my pressure in check.

Yet, each night brings more tossing and turning, with the eventual three to four hours drifting off and then, without fail, ‘the wake up,’ which is always around three o’clock until dawn. By the time I roll out of bed, I am in pain and exhausted from the mind games I have to play to entertain myself while tossing and turning and listening to my husband snoring. Lower back pains are a constant worry.

Lately, I awake drenched in sweat from head to toe, which forces me to change my clothes before I can even begin my day. This feeling of being in my teens on the inside is quite exhilarating. However, someone needs to communicate this to my outer body parts. I have a fantastic amount of energy and drive, but that’s the problem: it’s just inside. I must get 30 minutes of aerobic exercise for my heart health and ensure my joints don’t cease. I am comfortable only in loose clothing, and my favorite color is black, no matter the season. Swimming pools must be avoided since going to one means exposure.

My monthly menstruation has a mind of its own, much like it did when I first started way back in my elementary years. During those days, I was scared to go to school when ‘my time‘ was near,

fearing a deluge. These days, I cannot tell if it will be a deluge or a drip, and I never know if or when it will arrive. Today, I am teaching my daughter how to deal with hers. I look forward to the day when it is gone for good because I already have enough!

Then there are the age spots that are sneaking up and sprouting everywhere. Sometimes, I wonder whose body I am in because everything looks so unfamiliar and new yet old. The spots are annoying and accompany specific body parts, gravitating downward and outward. Lately, ‘things’ require a lift and a nudge to get them into their garments and out. Above all, there is this feeling that something big is coming or that a shift is about to occur, and it is omnipresent. Thankfully, I have my daughter’s life-changing drama to keep me in some alignment as my life performs this unfamiliar yet somewhat rhythmical yet erratic dance toward the inevitable. Being here to offer her support and advice is my saving grace.

Day by day and moment by moment, I feel the weight of a life and the worry of life to be lived and lost. Plus, why can’t I stop dropping pieces of food on my clothes while eating? Only a bib will solve this new problem because the stains are not always easy to remove. I used to laugh when my mother-in-law told me stories like this about her life change. Now my daughter is laughing at me.

Nowadays, I marvel at my evolution regarding a myriad of things. I am at a place where I feel enough freedom, to be honest and to bitch about everything and let go of those I cannot control. I am now labeled a ‘senior’ and have finally decided to carry that card with pride and aplomb. I certainly had a ‘bitch’ of a time getting here, but now I have arrived, it isn’t all that bad; well, I have my gripes, especially about the bloating, but that is another story.

Finally, I am 50!

I am anxious about what is leaving. There is this constant push and pull. Turning 50 is truly a bitch! However, it is mine. So, bring it on pantyliners, sags, folds, bloating, lost/repressed memories, unfiltered blunders, along with all the other crap. I am ready!? I think.

I look forward to the next ten years with glee.

What was I talking about again?

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In March 2022, a few days before emergency surgery for a cancerous growth on my spine, a lymphoma tumor, my daughter and I were diagnosed with complex PTSD, Agoraphobia, and Panic disorder. This mirror mental health diagnosis served as a confirmation of my years of work to show how the effects of the intergenerational legacy of violence and abuse could afflict, affect, and infect generations. This submitted work gives voice to years and years of self-analysis and self-reflection, culminating in finally facing and coming to terms with my true self on my cancer bed in a hospital in New Hampshire. I was born in the Caribbean, but my karma finally caught up with me and forced me to face my reality through near paralysis thousands of miles away in a northeastern state in New England, USA.

Born into and raised under domestic Violence in Barbados, West Indies, I spent my entire life fighting to find stable ground upon which to stand. My mother told me that my father’s violence towards her happened even when I was in her womb, so I have been under stress even before I knew myself. Wherever I went, violence was in the very air I breathed. As a result, I automatically sought it out in abusive relationships throughout my life. This work was born from a longing to express the angst I felt inside from years of suppression and repression. From a very young age, I promised to help my mother break free from her pain and suffering by becoming a well-known writer one day.

I have come through generations of women who were cleaners, housekeepers, and caretakers. The women in my family always took care of other people. I inherited this attribute, but I finally realized it can hurt me if I only see value in caretaking and not caring for myself. My long-held vision is to share how important it is to value yourself and believe in your dream by learning to love yourself first. Thus, my call to action: Get Ahead Of Life Before Life Gets Ahead Of You!

My mother is no longer with me at sixty, but my mission is clarified today. My personal mission is “to help marginalized women activate their light in the middle of chaos by recognizing the causes and effects of intergenerational trauma.” Together with my 25-year-old daughter Amaranthia Sepia, our mission is “to help marginalized women and marginalized genders gain accessibility and visibility in the arts” as co-founders of our grassroots organization, Sista Creatives Rising.

In March 2022, when I was rushed to emergency surgery and later learned of a cancer diagnosis that almost paralyzed me, I decided to use my writing to share my lived experience to break through the years of self-sabotage and imposter syndrome: to finally go after my dreams. Our mission at Sista Creatives aligns nicely with MITA’s mission to serve and empower women, girls, and gender-non-conforming people, to hold up a loudspeaker to voices that have been institutionally silenced, and to advocate for social change. I am emotionally, mentally, physically, and spiritually stable and ready to claim my place as a voice for the marginalized.

In one week in March 2022, Claire lost her mobility by the hour. Enduring emergency surgery to remove a diffuse large B-cell lymphoma from her spine, she let go of all delusions and illusions about her health. Claire is now within the 1% category to walk again after such surgery. Now in remission and recently diagnosed with smoldering multiple myeloma, Claire is determined to help marginalized women gain inner strength by accessing their artistic side.

A Buddhist and Frances Perkins Scholar, Claire’s journey to scholarship began during her childhood in Barbados when she sought relief from living under domestic violence. Claire uses her creative works, writings, and mother-daughter project, Sista Creatives Rising, to encourage women trauma survivors to use art for self-improvement. In the 1990s, standing at The Door of No Return on Gorée Island, Senegal, where enslaved people last saw their homeland, she reaffirmed her purpose: to overcome intergenerational trauma.