I know it sounds kinda hokey or pollyanna or even cliché to talk about the "gifts" that cancer brings... Well, it is not exactly the cancer that brings the gifts. No one would choose to have cancer for the gifts! But I figure I might as well make the most of it, while I'm here. Terry Patten (who living with a rare aggressive cancer that is resistant to treatment) has said something that I've adopted for myself:
I don't want to waste a minute in resistance to what is.
All I have is this moment.
I have many holy, amazing, radiant, divine moments.
That's all anybody has.
I decided I could take better care of my physical self. I bought a monthly yoga pass for the live zoom Iyengar yoga classes at Pathway Yoga in Ottawa. (Iyengar yoga classes online is a gift of the pandemic!)
The other activity I've been doing is SWIMMING in Lake Ontario. In the past, I have swum a bit in September, but only in early September. Now it is October and I'm still swimming! Not every day, but about 5 times a week. I'm as surprised as anyone. The water is remarkably warm, as least as compared to the Atlantic Ocean in the summer. I don't have blue fingernails or lips, and my teeth aren't chattering, so according to my early childhood standards, it's not cold. (It is about 15-16 degrees, in my estimation.) Cold water swimming has become rather trendy since the pandemic, but as much as I find it incredibly therapeutic, uplifting and grounding (all at the same time!), I really don't think I'll be chipping the ice off the lake so I can take a dip. Maybe I'll make it until the end of October. We'll see.
My favourite swim so far was the evening just before the full moon in September. The sun was setting, the whole sky was pink and mauve, and the water was reflecting the sky colours. And then the large (practically) full moon rose over Wolfe Island. It was breathtaking. And so magical to be IN the pink, mauve and silver water to witness it.
The other incredible aspect for me is to just stop and take in all the love that friends and family have shown. People have given gifts of food, of time, of consideration. They have given exquisite, thoughtful words, by text, email and old-fashioned paper cards. One friend knit me a pair of woollen socks to warm my feet after swimming. Another brought a copy of Richard Wagamese's book, Embers, and a beautiful card.
"Life sometimes is hard. There are challenges. There are difficulties. There is pain. As a younger man I sought to avoid them and only ever caused myself more of the same. These days I choose to face life head on—and I have become a comet. I arc across the sky of my life and the harder times are the friction that lets the worn and tired bits drop away. It's a good way to travel; eventually I will wear away all resistance until all there is left of me is light."
Richard Wagamese, from Embers.
In an email that offered food—any food I wanted (even jello)— "at the drop of a hat," another friend wrote:
Sending you all the very best in the face of this crappy news. Here's to knowing so many people who come through, but also acknowledging that the path forward is likely kind of rocky. We'll be your thick-soled sandals.
Wow. Friends as thick-soled sandals. What a beautiful metaphor. Lots of walking and journeying images and metaphors. I like those better than the battle metaphors. You can't really "lose" when on a journey. There are always lots of things to see and experience on a journey, even when the going is rough.
I feel so well-resourced for this journey. Incredible friends and supports. Excellent health care. A stable income and a job that includes medical leave. And a 12-year meditation practice that helps stabilize me. Like walking poles.
Just to be clear, the cancer I have is very common (sadly) and totally curable (yay!), with almost 100% survival at 5 years. As my friend said, the path ahead for a few months is likely rocky. But I'm confident of the outcome and that I'll be around for a few more decades. And I know I am well-loved and supported.
It's a good thing that communication between hearts needs no words, because I can't find adequate words to express my gratitude. A deep heart-bow to you.
Comentarios