I came out in 2015 as a “free-thinker” or “non-theist.” This decision had nothing to do with resenting god/s because of my cancer. My search and questioning started years before I was diagnosed. What I don’t want is to lose friends over who I currently am, although I have lost several. I try to accept all people who are kind regardless of their religious or political beliefs, and honor who you are, and simply desire the same in return. When I was a Christian I was as devout as I could be. I loved Jesus—heart and soul. I just don’t believe it anymore. I’ve read too much. Experienced too much of the world. I am willing to believe in a god if I find something that shows me the validity. I will never believe in the Biblical god though. I just don’t like him. I’m truly, truly sorry if that makes you sad. What I do believe in is love, kindness, honesty, goodness, hard-work, fairness, equality, all of those traits that make life here on earth a bit more heavenly—it is the only reality I know that we have for certain, and it’s going fast.

I do believe in energy: maybe this is physics? There seems to be an energy that connects us all on various levels. There are too many “coincidences” in my humble opinion for there not to be something going on. I don’t know if it is orchestrated by some cosmic hand or just simply a scientific reality. To me life is a mystery. And, I am okay with that. We humans crave certainty. We can’t help ourselves. I believe that that is our draw to our boxed in beliefs we like to call religion.

I am not afraid to die. Do I want to? Absolutely not. Life is way too much fun. And, I really do not want to break my girls’ or Andrew’s heart by leaving them, so I have decided not to. The doctors say that they cannot help me, so I am helping myself. I am my own experiment.

My girls were my experiment too. I raised them “my way.” For my “experiment,” I imagined what it would be like to grow up in the “Garden of Eden” (remember I was a Christian). I tried to emulate the carefree, natural environment I imagined Eden to be like. I nursed them until they reached for solid food, prepared all of their baby food from scratch—picked it right off the trees (not really). We slept with them and rubbed their backs at the start of their sleep until they were twelve. There was no need to rush through childhood. Life does not go on forever. Why do we act like it does? They didn’t go to “outdoor school” as I named it until they were ready (or maybe until I was ready?). We played barefoot in the mud, swam in creeks, ate foods that would be found in a garden, read as much as they wanted, had an abundance of living animals, no real TV, no sitting in classrooms wasting their sweet, short childhoods. This freedom also allowed us to scoot around the world with ease as I packed up their curriculums and art supplies. Was it a perfect childhood? No. But, I tried really hard to make it perfect. I may have tried too hard. Moms and dads: make yourself a priority too.



(If you have cancer, and want to know the safer side of healing, please go to Jane McLelland’s site: https://www.howtostarvecancer.com/. I have found her site to be the biggest help—more than that of any physician. All my love and appreciation to Jane. I owe her my life.
