The Gift of Scars

I have an 8-inch scar running down the middle of my chest. A keloid scar that is bumpy, not smooth. It is a reminder of my open heart surgery on March 12, 2008 for my aortic valve replacement. I hid that scar for 2 years and one month. And then, I got better and I decided to celebrate it.

I started wearing camisole shirts and shirts with V-neck collars. I was no longer afraid of my scar. I was no longer afraid of people's reactions to my imperfection. I finally came to the realization that my scar stood for everything I'd been through in the first 47 years of my life and celebrated everything that has happened, since.

I was about a week away from death by the time I had my operation. I could not even walk 8 feet, from one end of a hallway to another, without becoming dizzy. As I have said before, I was ready to die and did not have any attachment to the outcome of the operation. As I look back on the months leading up to the surgery, I realize that I tied up loose ends. I got into contact with the one man I had once truly loved and opened myself up to him - and he made the final rejection, choosing instead, his life of duplicity and dishonesty. I put my favorite photos in a small album and organized them. I had almost no possessions, what I owned fit into a studio apartment. I knew that my life would not be too difficult to clean up, should I die. My friends were few. I had close friends but I felt they would recover from my loss. My illness had shut me down, systematically, for years. Little-by-little, due to self-preservation, I let go of my small joys and pleasures. I could not listen to music anymore - it took too much energy and effort. I stopped going for walks, because I could not breathe anymore. My cat, Saturn, had passed away in June of 2007. And, I think that when he did, he took away the strongest part of my heart that I had left. After losing him, there really wasn't any point to keeping that wounded organ alive anymore.

But, I lived. The operation, while difficult, was a success. I made it through the grueling process. I survived the nearly unbearable physical pain. I made it through the financial impossibility - after collecting documents and writing a beautiful letter, the hospital covered all but $5000 of my costs. I even made it through Prednisone, god help me. My sisters made it through Prednisone, too. Evil, evil drug. I survived family dysfunction in the aftermath.

Then, slowly, doors began to open. I was given an amazing chance to learn from the greatest minds of my time, by producing a national talk show. I learned how to glean information about religion, psychology, science, the cosmos and global conspiracies from people I would only meet over the telephone. Due to necessity, I returned, on air, to the radio and found my voice again. I found a beautiful little apartment in a neighborhood by the water and started going for daily walks again. I rediscovered the joy of movement. I rediscovered the tranquility of mist on my face as I moved through rain. I began to see the world as art, instead of drudgery.

The final gift has been the rediscovery of music. Particularly the music of one man, and he knows who he is. Whatever remained of the shackles and walls encasing my heart were blown away by his music. The very sound of his voice resonated with my soul. And, I was reborn. I am not clear why his voice and music have had this effect on me. Some say it might be karmic. Others say we all have a healing resonance vibration and that it was just good luck that I also enjoyed the songs he wrote.

Whatever the case, once that music opened me up, I truly became whole. Every last bit of fear and pain that I clung to fell by the wayside. I became bold. I started speaking my truth. I started feeling the love of an entire planet inside of my body. And, I started showing off my scar. For, if it were not for that scar I might still be afraid of what might happen in my life. I have been through hell and back and I will not back down now from the potential for heaven on earth.

My scar is truly a gift.