This October, in honor of Breast Cancer Awareness Month, I wanted to share something very close to my heart — a story from the book I wrote with John, The Way of Wonder, called “The Nub.”
Be brave, be bright, be brilliant, be wild.
Roses have managed it for centuries. So can we.
Consider this: What might need to change—or even go (however painful)—so that a greater potential can emerge?
The concept of The Nub was introduced to me by my dear friend and fellow breast cancer survivor Kyra, who used the metaphor to describe what it was like to go through treatment.
“The numbness,” Kyra said, touching her armpit where radiation dulled her. “These,” stroking her still-thin brows, “this,” floating fingers through sparse hair. “You sorta feel like a nub of yourself.”
Now, Kyra looked radiant to me during treatment. Though her body was slighter, her head shaved, her energy drained, I felt she was in the midst of something life-changing—beyond the illness, beneath the surface, deeper. Seeing her stripped down was like witnessing the force of divine potential itself—the impulse to live beaming through so clearly, despite all that was taken from her.
The Nub.
The most essential part.
The part that stays when all else is taken or falls away.
After I recovered from my own breast cancer treatment, Kyra and I toasted with wine: To Life! We shared our chemo chair stories, our hair-falling-out stories, our who-is-that-in-the-mirror stories. We laughed that deep, knowing laugh that only those who have been brought to their knees can share. It wasn’t the Chardonnay speaking; it was the truth.
Here we were, each of us on the other side of cancer—more fully present, grateful as all hell—releasing it all: essence to essence, nub to nub. A few sips from goodbye, our once-numb fingertips clinked a last toast: We are still here, my friend.
Like Kyra, I didn’t see my cancer coming. It hurt hard—but the gift hit loudly too, forever turning up the volume on how beautiful and sacred this life is. Before cancer, I listened to screaming fears; now a symphony of vibrant breath and bountiful life drowns them out. I’ve learned to let go of what is false, which really brings me alive.
We are so much more than our bodies and circumstances.
Our essence is life itself. Even when a person looks depleted—or feels like a nub—their entirety is in there, a life force waiting to blossom like a rose from a pruned bush.
John often tells people I came back stronger than ever—more alive, thirsty for adventure and living—and my scar-blessed soul is so grateful.
While I’d never wish cancer on anyone, I encourage you to meditate on the lesson of The Nub: uncover the essential part of you by exploring what you might let go of, gain wisdom in discarding what isn’t true, and trust the power within you.
When something is taken, it is a loss for sure. But wonder waits to arise—to unfurl new beauty, to open you to a different way of being, to give intimacy with your life force and help you move beyond fear—so you may blossom onward, spectacularly alive.
An Invitation to Thrive
Seasons, feelings, and flora change—all things are transformed. Even in the coldest, darkest season, there are flowers blooming somewhere, promising that change is constant and life wills itself to continue.
Just as a rose changes—from bud to blossom to glorious spectacle to something other—it is beautiful still. Even when the bloom is off the rose, there is wonder waiting.
Observe a flower. Let it remind you of your own potential for healing, greatness, and rebirth. Blooming is an act of will—and resolve. Trust that we can all bloom onward, at any stage. And ought to.
Your Glow Gives Back
In honor of survivors, fighters, and the loved ones who walk beside them:
15% of every Pearl Edit purchase supports breast cancer research.
👉 Shop With Purpose →
Each luminous pearl reminds me of that lesson — that beauty, strength, and light don’t disappear when we are tested; they deepen.
With love and gratitude,
Patti Pagliei
Founder + Designer, Waxing Poetic
