Every artist dips his brush in his own soul, and paints his own nature into his pictures.
Henry Ward Beecher
We all have a narrative, a unique story to tell. As individual collections of life experience unfold, we see before us a dramatic self-portrait form, a picture based on the very peaks and valleys that make up life achievements as well as life challenges. Often times we sit back and view the painting through a foggy lens, one cluttered with learned behavior, tradition, societal expectations we feel compelled to align with, and so on. The question surfaces: Is there really such a thing as an authentic self, a bona fide me?
Pure art. I once read that every good painter paints what he is. Every so often one is blessed to experience something that leaves you spellbound. I honestly didn’t expect a trip to the Museum of Fine Arts with the boys over the summer to render such a state, but this particular visit was so pure, so meaningful … I’ll never forget it. While exploring the unique handprint illustrated on every piece that day at the museum, I felt an intimate connection, a momentous view into the heart and soul of each artist. I envisioned their hands at work, powerfully expressing their life narrative, with the purposeful strokes of a paintbrush. Taking in the world around us, we often find relatable links to our own lives through the canvas of creation’s powerful pull. For me, words are my art medium …writing my paintbrush. Though not nearly as beautiful as a masterpiece hanging on a wall, my words become an artistic expression of my heart. When I’m silent, I’ve usually failed to claim the peace that comes from tapping into creation’s “voice” all around me. Recently, my silence has stemmed from allowing exhaustion to dominate my narrative.
I just completed the next “installment” of cancer treatment—30 rounds of radiation therapy. Similar to chemotherapy’s bittersweet end, my emotions took me off guard. Suddenly my head began to buzz in a sea of rhetorical questions: What now? Will I have the strength to not let fear dominate my existence? Will I fail at keeping hope close? I guess you could say treatment in some ways becomes supplemental courage. The poisons of chemo, the removal of body parts via mastectomies, and the cancer-causing beams that make up radiation—all contribute to a (false) sense of security. The truest test of faith comes when you have nothing else to rely on … but the very faith you entered this ride with. The past couple of weeks I’ve had a weighty question tugging on my heart: Who am I? Have I allowed this “life circumstance” to take over the pre-cancer me? Coco Chanel said it best: Hard times arouse an instinctive desire for authenticity.
When I encountered The Sponge Diver by Winslow Homer that day in the museum, I became instantly gripped by its beauty and authenticity. I envisioned myself there in the Bahamas, watching from a distance as a sponge diver emerged from a “naked dive” to the ocean floor, surfacing with his prize. I thought of the rich history attached to sponge diving and the remarkable courage of early divers—always equipped with a readiness for sacrifice and a willingness to take risks. In the old days when the skin diving method was used, divers went out to sea in a small boat, often using a glass bottomed object to search the ocean floor for sponges. These authentic divers used simple methods … relying solely on their God-given bodies and their own natural breath-hold ability—historically performing at levels rarely attained by contemporary divers. As time progressed, greed took over sponge diving and divers began using large, hard-hat diving gear to take on longer dives at deeper levels. What resulted was a great deal of death and paralysis among divers. The history of sponge divers shows us two faces of an empirical approach to life: allowing the want for more to influence you, compromising everything; or staying focused on your God-given unique qualities that will not only get you the prize but without the compromise. Fortunately, the beautiful centuries-old tradition Winslow Homer captured in his watercolor personified the original glory of sponge diving in its naked form. Homer once said “You will see, in the future I will live by my watercolors.” I’d like to think he pondered the authenticity of the scene set before him while painting this masterpiece.
Thursday, I have my next visit with my medical oncologist and the plan is to begin Tamoxifen, an anti-estrogen hormone therapy designed to stop the growth of cancer cells that may be present in the body, while blocking the effect of estrogen on these cells. The plan is to have me on this for the next 10 years.
Isn’t it funny … as a child, we just want to be like everyone else. As we get older, we desire to beat to our own rhythmic drum. As we further mature, the connecting events of life further complicate our sense of self. A diagnosis of cancer has made one thing crystal clear in my life: I desire to be defined by nothing more than God created me to be. My “now” plan is to be satisfied with my Creator’s design … the authentic, unique me. It is only after taking off the dangerous diving gear of the world’s pull on us that we can find freedom like no other.
22 thoughts on “Sponge Diving Our Way to Authenticity”
Beautifully portraying life in its raw and most vulnerable moments as always, Nicole. I am praying for you each day and hoping that when you are ready I can see your sweet smile again! Love, Sandra
Sandra, thank you so much for your note. Remember … I am always ready to see your sweet smile, girl! XOXO
Just give me any time that works on your calendar, Nicole. Call, text, email a date! XO
Wow, Nicole. Powerful, powerful writing, as always. But this month especially so. One thing you need never worry over in my eyes is your authenticity. You git it, girl! Winslow would be impressed. Coco too. I sure am.
Andrew, could I be any more tickled pink to have you reading my blog? Your writing and work are always an inspiration to me! Knowing you and having your support is beyond a blessing! XOXO
I try to read only really good stuff. Hence, my presence in your writing. It would seem we are linked by our shared love of words. Keep ’em coming please.
I must echo Sandra thoughts!! I miss you and am grateful to hear your voice in your writing. Love to you!! Cathy
Cathy, get your calendar out girl! We have Greek food in Boston on our horizon. I love you and miss you … name the time and place & I’ll be there with bells. I love you! XOXO
Beautifully written, and so very powerful.
Thank you, Justin! You are another wonderful gem that’s washed up on my shore … a kindred spirit. Lunch on me this week! 🙂
Hi Nicole, Was happy to read your new post. Thinking of you & praying for you. Would love to catch up when you are ready… Lots of Lovd, Dawn
Praying for you during this difficult time. John 14:1-4 is heavy on my heart. Remember, He has you in the palm of his hand. I look forward to getting together soon and talk all things baby!
I always love the simple yet powerful sentiment of C.S. Lewis: “There are better things ahead than any we leave behind.” There is hope in the face of grief. Love and prayer …
Mom your blogs are so amazing congratulations on completing radiation! I love you ❤
Thank you sweetie for being wonderful, supportive … amazingly authentic — YOU! You are a beautiful young man after God’s own heart. I love you so much and couldn’t be prouder of you.
xoxoxo ❤ Mom
May I tiptoe into your conversation to say what a heaven sent blessing and man of God you always have been Colby? Raised by a loving mom and dad who refuse to back away from the hard things in life and lower their integrity and the call of God on their lives as well. You are all an inspiration to those who know you…and always will be. Keep taking each slow step together. With all the love my heart can hold for you…
Thank you for tugging on “our” heartstrings so beautifully. Slow and steady we continue to climb … looking oh so forward to the view from the top!
Love you, lovey!
Nicloe, I’m breathing a sigh of relief for you. Yet another intervention complete! It’s great to hear you making plans again as if Jesus walked right up to you and said “Stand up, pick up your mat and go home!” Matthew 9:6. But you are more than home. You’ve come into your own! Just keep writing … We’ll keep praying.
There are no words … you are a blessing, always faithful and loving in your support! Thank you, thank you … THANK YOU! Thinking of you and Jose always.
Love and prayers,
Wow Nicole ..So beautiful & powerful & can’t wait to be at your “book signing!” We will continue to have faith that through cancer research & God’s guidance,its only a matter of time before they find a cure.Keep your chin up ,beautiful lady,& continue to inspire those around you. Love,love,love you
Thank you … goosebumps at the thought of a book! Definite “bucket list” item. Thank you for your love and prayers. Even when we’re far away physically, you are always close to my heart … and in my prayers.
I look forward to being with you at Thanksgiving!! We need some good family time together.
I Love you bushels,
Oh most definitely…Miss you, & think of you daily.Please continue to share your incredible gift &continue to tug at our heartstrings.Can’t wait to get together! Sending love & prayers always,Aunt Vicki xoxoxoxoxo
Reblogged this on AntiRadiation.