The Crown on my Head

I can see now, why they call it a journey.

Initially, I was irritated by the word. I felt like it sounded like I was some Real World/Road Rules participant — the kind who used words like journey and experience to sound like I’m some sort of well-traveled, wise-beyond-my-years human.

But really. Journey is the only word that works. Because I got diagnosed with cancer. And first. I was told it was 100% curable. And then… then the path started to twist. Turn. Get unpredictable. And pretty soon — I had to let go. And just roll with the journey. Because I’m taking the road less traveled. Or at least only traveled by 1 in 8 people.

And where I am at right now… nearly done with chemo… if you had asked me in June if I thought I’d be here… well, absolutely not. None of us do.

But I am. I am here. Almost done with chemo. Surgery scheduled. Awaiting a decision on radiation. This is my story. This is my journey.

And so I’m embracing the good parts. Because if I didn’t. If I simply focused on the scary, sad, painful realities the journey would be hard. It would have been for nothing.

So I’m soaking up the goodness. The unexpected. The new and exciting experiences. Like the opportunities I am getting to share my story. The chances I’ve been given to spread goodness.

And the crown on my head.

Yes. The crown. On my head.

When my beautiful and authentic friend, Jamie, first mentioned the chance to have a henna crown “gifted” to me, I was a little scared. I had seen her post pictures of others receiving theirs. And thought they were done on terminally ill patients.

But they are not. It is quite the opposite. She and Hollie give chemo patients and those with alopecia the opportunity that others across the nation celebrate as well — empower those who are without hair to remember that bald is beautiful. That henna is for healing. And that life is about experiences.

So, I received a most special gift last Sunday. In Jamie’s studio in Lincoln, Nebraska, she and Hollie celebrated with me. They honored me. And my breast cancer journey. They helped my commemorate this time in my life with something breathtakingly beautiful — my very own Henna Crown.

It was something I never could have known how much I would have loved.

Hollie custom mixes the Henna ahead of time — she blesses it. Prays over it. And then, as Jamie captured so exquisitely in her photos, Hollie freehanded a completely one-of-a-kind design, just for me as the Mr. looked on.

It was so much more than the henna. It was being in community with these two giving women. Discussing my story. Hearing why they do what they do. And feeling so blessed to have the opportunity to celebrate the gifts of cancer.

…

And as she painted, I couldn’t get the words out of my head. The words from Nancy Tillman’s book, “The Crown on Your Head”.

On the day that we met and I put you to bed, I noticed a crown on the top of your head.

It was made up of sparkling and glimmering things like moonlight and fireflies, and dragonfly wings.

As the days came and went, it was faithful and true… and it grew right along with the rest of you.

I always knew what your crown meant. It said that you were MAGNIFICENT.

(That means you are grand from your toes to your chin. Take a deep breath, and let that sink in.)

That’s about as high as a word can climb! That’s the top of a mountain… a steeple chime.

That’s over the moon in a nursery rhyme…

and it means, like a star, YOU WERE BORN TO SHINE.

(Blink three times and… there you are! You are a Twinkling, little star)

In other words, from your very first day, you were chosen to glow in a very big way!

Because, I think I’m funny.

With your crown made of glittering, high-flying things, you’ve got wind in your pocket, your wishes have wings. You can run like you mean it… so, let the wind blow…

There’s just no telling how high you can go.

Whatever it is, you choose to do, no one can do it exactly like you.

Ride on the big slide! And if you fall down, remember your glorious marvelous crown.

It won’t flicker or fade. It won’t dim. It won’t leave.

ALL YOU HAVE TO DO IS BELIEVE.

Do you, my child? I hope that you do. The world is a wonderland waiting for you.

And you get to share it with all your friends, too! They each have a crown that is faithful and true.

No one’s is brighter, no one’s is duller. It’s only a crown of a different color.

So sometimes, just every now and then, whisper “I believe” again. Your crown is your best friend forever, by far. It tells you the story of just who you are.

That’s why every night, when I put you to be, I’m careful to kiss the crown on your head.

The black henna ink peeled away leaving behind a beautiful reddish henna hue of the design. But to me, it was the journey of getting the crown that was the most amazing part. Sitting. Thinking. Understanding that I was earning my crown along with so many other survivors.

The ink will fade over the next week but the experience — the added memories to this journey of mine, those will forever be cherished.

Thank you to my near and dear friend, Jamie of JamesAnn Photography and the lovely and talented Hollie of HennaBella for making what could be a shitty situation, totally beautiful.

The words of “The Crown on Your Head” are not mine but Nancy Tillman’s. You can purchase her book through the Amazon link above. Should you find yourself in need of a photographer in the Lincoln or Omaha area, Jamie is a true talent. Also, if you would like to book Hollie for your very own henna experience or party, her Facebook link can be found above.

A Note From Your Crown:

I’m made out of magic most people can’t see

(which is really quite clever, if you should ask me).

But if ever you’re worried and really must know,

you can tell that I’m there by the warmth of my glow.

Press your hand to the top of your head.

Feel me? Okay. Put your worries to bed.

You are loved.