Watch now (6 mins) | The day after celebrating my birthday in the desert late last month, a rattlesnake bit me and everything went sideways. On mortality, miracles, and overcoming fear with the healing power of love.
Cathleen, First, I'm overwhelmed with thankfulness that such a beautiful soul has survived the horrifying experience you describe in this article. This world needs more light sharing souls such as you. It's a tragedy for all of us when such a person must leave us. I'm glad you didn't.
Other than saying the above to you, the reason I'm writing here is to express how much your writing style speaks to me; partly because it's so much like my own, and relatedly, I like the way I write :) The way you free stream information as you tell your story is so wonderful to me and something that reminds me of what I do. As you covered your experience you told us about antivenin/antivenin, who invented it, and more. I love complete details, even when someone is telling me or asking me a very simple thing. If someone says, "I decided to go to the grocery store a different way today," I'm more interested in why, how, when, what did they buy, who did they see, why are they telling me this simple sentence as though it explains everything, and how dare they move from that sentence to some unrelated thing as though, I needed to know a trivial piece of information with no connection to the rest of reality. It confuses me when people use pronouns to such an extent, when telling a story about multiple people, that I don't know which 'he' it was that told the lie and which 'he' it was that shot which 'her' in the story because one of the 'she' in the story didn't really do what one of the 'he' lied about her doing. Anyway, I like information, important details, learning new things, and well thought out writing and conversation. If someone knows some interesting details about quantum physics or ancient history or anthropology or medicine or just about any subject, I love it if they take the time to teach me that as tell me about getting bitten by a snake or bungee jumping to strike a death blow to their greatest fear or whatever. That's what I try to do when I write or converse with thinking and aware people, I share whatever I know that I think is interesting and that they may not know, and I love it when intelligent, well read, thinking, aware people teach me things I didn't know. That's the way you write, and it was so apparent to me that I wanted to tell you right away how much I appreciated your story and your insights. Thank God you survived the rattle snake ordeal (and the bungee jump). We are connected on Linked In, and I signed up on "This Numinous World" (I LOVE the title), and every time I have at least a few minutes to read you I shall. Thank you for being out there and constantly giving out what you know and think and feel.
Completely terrifying! I am so glad you have recovered, and so thankful antivenom was discovered and available in your crisis. I, too, knew you from my time at Moody. I worked alongside Maria Mocuta who always spoke of you so fondly. And I am a longtime fan of your beautiful writing. God bless and keep you.
Cathleen, No way you remember me but we had lunch years ago in Chicago when I was Editor in Chief at Moody Publishers. Thanks for taking us on your journey. I guess one could say He took you on your own personal version of Genesis 3; the serpent bruised you on the heel; He, through you and those who stood with you, bruised him on the head. Glad you're doing well. Steve Lyon
I found you on Twitter because of the rattler. I scrolled across your plight via a friend's tweet. Living in southeastern Arizona, I'm up on venomous snakes and was immediately worried about your outcome. I'm so thankful it is a good one. I don't know what I would do in your situation, but if that happens, I have your story, strength, and result to refer to. Many continued blessings to you and yours.
Venom and Vanity: Dispatches of Intensive Care
Cathleen, First, I'm overwhelmed with thankfulness that such a beautiful soul has survived the horrifying experience you describe in this article. This world needs more light sharing souls such as you. It's a tragedy for all of us when such a person must leave us. I'm glad you didn't.
Other than saying the above to you, the reason I'm writing here is to express how much your writing style speaks to me; partly because it's so much like my own, and relatedly, I like the way I write :) The way you free stream information as you tell your story is so wonderful to me and something that reminds me of what I do. As you covered your experience you told us about antivenin/antivenin, who invented it, and more. I love complete details, even when someone is telling me or asking me a very simple thing. If someone says, "I decided to go to the grocery store a different way today," I'm more interested in why, how, when, what did they buy, who did they see, why are they telling me this simple sentence as though it explains everything, and how dare they move from that sentence to some unrelated thing as though, I needed to know a trivial piece of information with no connection to the rest of reality. It confuses me when people use pronouns to such an extent, when telling a story about multiple people, that I don't know which 'he' it was that told the lie and which 'he' it was that shot which 'her' in the story because one of the 'she' in the story didn't really do what one of the 'he' lied about her doing. Anyway, I like information, important details, learning new things, and well thought out writing and conversation. If someone knows some interesting details about quantum physics or ancient history or anthropology or medicine or just about any subject, I love it if they take the time to teach me that as tell me about getting bitten by a snake or bungee jumping to strike a death blow to their greatest fear or whatever. That's what I try to do when I write or converse with thinking and aware people, I share whatever I know that I think is interesting and that they may not know, and I love it when intelligent, well read, thinking, aware people teach me things I didn't know. That's the way you write, and it was so apparent to me that I wanted to tell you right away how much I appreciated your story and your insights. Thank God you survived the rattle snake ordeal (and the bungee jump). We are connected on Linked In, and I signed up on "This Numinous World" (I LOVE the title), and every time I have at least a few minutes to read you I shall. Thank you for being out there and constantly giving out what you know and think and feel.
Robert Clemons
Completely terrifying! I am so glad you have recovered, and so thankful antivenom was discovered and available in your crisis. I, too, knew you from my time at Moody. I worked alongside Maria Mocuta who always spoke of you so fondly. And I am a longtime fan of your beautiful writing. God bless and keep you.
You're very welcome.
Cathleen, No way you remember me but we had lunch years ago in Chicago when I was Editor in Chief at Moody Publishers. Thanks for taking us on your journey. I guess one could say He took you on your own personal version of Genesis 3; the serpent bruised you on the heel; He, through you and those who stood with you, bruised him on the head. Glad you're doing well. Steve Lyon
I'm so pleased you pulled through. Here's to your strength returning. Thanks for sharing those poems. Wishing you and yours all the very best./
I found you on Twitter because of the rattler. I scrolled across your plight via a friend's tweet. Living in southeastern Arizona, I'm up on venomous snakes and was immediately worried about your outcome. I'm so thankful it is a good one. I don't know what I would do in your situation, but if that happens, I have your story, strength, and result to refer to. Many continued blessings to you and yours.
A really wonderful telling Cathleen. Thank you for the gift of it.
Love, love, love this. This is one birthday you will never forget.
Thank God for the cloven.
"We have less time than we knew and that time buoyant, and cloven, lucent, and missile, and wild."
—Annie Dillard, Holy the Firm