Kaity Kasper

Blog

From Montana, With Love

“Feel your feet, my love.”

It is day five.  Of which chemo round I can’t tell you, but quite honestly it doesn’t really matter.  Every round – without fail – I lost my mind on day five.  Day five was the day when I had both nausea and bone pain to deal with.  Day five is when I hadn’t eaten in so long that I feared I had forgotten how.  Day five is when I had forgotten I ever actually felt better and there was too much time left before the fog would lift for me to have any faith that I ever would feel better again.  Day five was the worst.

Two things would always happen on day five. 

One of my loves would send me a world class pep talk via text and, on the very best rounds, appear at my door with French fries.   

Another would remind me to feel my feet.  To find my connection to the ground.  To our earth.  To remember I am supported.

“Feel your feet, my love.”

*   *   *

I am writing this from Big Sky, Montana.  It’s the last night of my third healing trip. 

This trip has been nothing that I expected. 

It has been everything that I needed.

True to the pattern of 2016 I suppose.

And while you will need to wait for the details, I wanted to check in from here.

*   *   *

We touched down in Bozeman after dark had fallen.  I couldn’t see Montana, but I could smell it.  We stopped and stood in the frozen air, eyes closed, and breathed deeply.  My chest opened for the first time in what felt like years and I knew in that moment that Montana was where my heart needed to be.

As we moved through the logistics of arriving in a new state, I began to feel Montana too. 

In Sedona, energy coursed through me – up and out.  Fear flew from my system at what felt like 100 miles an hour and I felt constantly swirled and cleansed and renewed and it was as if I was in the energetic version of Vegas – after so many days you just need to get out of there and let your body take a break.

The energy in Montana is different.  Energy flows slowly down my legs and through my feet grounding me to the earth. 

All I can do is feel my feet.

*   *   *

I have been readily adopted by the yoga community here and late last night found myself praying over sweet potatoes and steamed zucchini with a table full of soul sisters.  We began a round of “Rose Bud Thorn” – a game that involves each participant sharing something that is currently blooming in their life that they are excited about, something that is just beginning to take root, and something that is a bit of a struggle.

My rose? 

This life.

This incredibly beautiful life.

I still can’t get over the fact that I am sitting among a snowfall, another holiday season upon us.  I cannot believe that I got through this year.  That I am alive.  That I am not only alive but living a life steeped in recovery and yoga and love and faith. 

I cannot believe that I get to live this life.

How did I get so lucky?

*   *   *

It has been snowing the entire time we have been here.  The trees are dappled with white and I couldn’t decide during today’s hike if I have just fallen into a holiday card or actually made my way to Narnia. 

For years I have felt pulled here. 

A sticker hangs above my collection of eyeliner and mascara – the shape of Montana in a foresty green.  Not so long ago, I was offered the opportunity to go in-house for a company based on Montana.  The state has been beckoning me and now that I am here I realize that it’s a place I will forever return to. 

When things feel impossible, I know I can come here.

I can come here and feel my feet.