Someone asked me yesterday what I had learned from my cancer experience. This is a fair question, but a rather big one to tackle in a passing conversation in the corridor at school. I kept my answer sincere, but brief. I guess...I've learned to take ownership of my life.
Lumbering through the limbo of severe illness, it was difficult to feel I was the owner of much of anything. My body belonged to the doctors and nurses who cared for me, and my mind had become a foreign entity, struggling to fulfil the one command that everyone (including me) felt compelled to issue at regular intervals: be strong, for just a little bit longer, be strong...
So when the treatment was over, and my doctor cautiously confirmed, "Well, that's it. Theoretically." I felt ecstatic, but I also felt this tremendous pressure. I get to live, so I owe it to...the universe to do it right. No more fear, no more excuses.
In practice, this has meant taking a serious personal inventory and trying very hard not to shy away from the results. This is an ongoing process in which certain things need to be changed, while others can only be accepted. Uncomfortable questions are faced, responsibility is assumed, and along the way hopefully a large quantity of mental garbage can be disposed of.
Ten years ago I had a picture of who I thought I would be, and I am nothing like I predicted. Ten months ago I had a notion of who I thought I should be, and the disparity between that idea and the reality was oppressive. Somehow, cancer has given me the strength to shake off these ideas and begin to form new and healthier ones, on my own terms.
(A bit of a downer for the last day of school, no? I should be celebrating. But this is where my mind is, so I thought I would share.)
Changing face means nothing but facing change means everything. You are a burning phoenix Celeste. Let your re-birth commence and spread your wings with a renewed spirit. :-)
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