"That he not busy being born is busy dying" Bob Dylan

You lose yourself, you reappear
You suddenly find you got nothing to fear
Alone you stand with nobody near
When a trembling distant voice, unclear
Startles your sleeping ears to hear
That somebody thinks
They really found you.

Bob Dylan

Today I have been home from 1  month. Today I am 50 day post transplant, half way to the 100 days, where the restriction are loosened, but I will still need to be careful in the jungle of germs.

Especially so, as by reckoning my 100th day falls on Yom Kippur, the holy day of  atonement (read at-one-ment). A day of fasting. My first day I can eat more freely and I am commanded to fast. Seems fair somehow. A poignant reminder. I can live with that. 

The ancient imagery is the question as to which book do you find your name, the book of life or the book of death. By tradition, the decision is sealed on Yom Kippur. And while that image is a bit literal for me, even in my life and death struggles, it does help me focus on what counts. What is my soul's legacy? What do I keep alive and what I have let die.  This month is my time to do the work of healing those I have hurt, or at least asking for their forgiveness. This is my month to look at what gives meaning to my life. As if cancer wasn't enough of an incentive. As Leonard Cohen, says "Your pain is no credential here".  With or without leukemia (now or soon without, G-d willing), I have my heavy work of redemption ahead of me. This is my month of prayer and preparation.

This is theme that I need to explore more.