Sovereignty

There was a moment, maybe 15 years ago, that's been running through my mind this week:

At the time, I was at a low point, weak and hospitalized with an autoimmune disease. My doctor, a jovial man often surrounded by a phalanx of trainees, had been pushing for a particular treatment option.

I’d thought we were working together to find a way forward. I'd been gathering information, asking questions, trying to decide if this was the best choice for me.

But one day, the doctor showed up alone. "Listen," he said, lowering his clipboard. "Either you take the medication I'm recommending or you find yourself a new doctor."

I paused in the silence after he left the room. Weak as I was, I knew a relationship of care would not override my sovereignty.

In the end, I decided to do both: new doctor and new medication, both of which helped me turn the tide back towards health.

While most of the time I write here about our interconnectedness, it is also true that potency rests in autonomy, in our capacity to make our own decisions about our bodies and our lives.

There is a lot to lament right now. There is also a riot of color coming to life outside.

Spring knows that connection and sovereignty can coexist. The red winged blackbirds nesting in the eaves, peonies supporting colonies of ants - listen, they seem to say, let us be generous and take great care with each other.