"Heather, you know that if it's me calling, it's not good news."
That's the first thing my doctor said to me when she called with my breast cancer diagnosis. 9 years ago today.
I originally thought that (should I live through it all) I'd celebrate this day. But instead, I get contemplative about what I learned - and am still learning - because of the experience.
Although I never wanted this anniversary, in many ways cancer was a gift. [Yes, really]
To understand what I'm talking about, we need to go back to that day.
After hanging up with my doctor (and crying for a brief few minutes), I did what I do best.. . I went into action, coordinating how to hand my work off to others and scheduling numerous tests/appointments.
And then things got quiet, forcing me to sit with my thoughts. I envisioned my own funeral (and contemplated how people would remember me).
Later that night, my brother Christopher asked me how I could be so calm and matter-of-fact with my prognosis (which wasn't good).
I told my brother that we all die sometime, and I was at peace with dying. Contrary to what this might sound like, this wasn't a give-up moment (it was the opposite).
I didn't know whether cancer would kill me that year. Or whether I'd get through it but thereafter have a deadly recurrence (common for the type of cancer I had).
None of that mattered because. . .
I was committed to living. Fully. Without regrets. With whatever time I had left.
This shift in perspective would never have happened had I not imagined my own funeral.
I discovered that I'd been focusing too much on avoidance rather than how to live. Avoidance of risk, pain, feelings, and failure. And I realized that I wasn't showing up fully by doing this.
The past year has been hard on virtually everyone (me included).
Yet this lesson - on how to LIVE - has helped me get through it feeling more hopeful despite the negative financial impact the pandemic lockdowns had on my business, the death of my brother Kyle and the political tension going on in the US.
It seems to me that many (most?) people have doubled down on avoidance this past year (and are continuing to do so).
But living to avoid pain, sickness and (potentially) death, isn't really living. If that's your focus, then your life becomes meaningless (and you lose hope).
It's difficult to tell you how to live fully (without talking face-to-face and knowing your specific situation). To help you figure that out, here's how it has looked in my life: - Allowing myself to FEEL sad about and angry with my brother Kyle (for his role in his death) while simultaneously (fondly) thinking about the Thanksgiving he spent the entire day playing football with my boys and the time he snuck into my room to eat all my Christmas candy.
- Taking my son Noah for daily walks during lockdown, where we listened to the birds and looked for painted rocks (someone had hidden throughout our neighborhood) while talking about how sad he felt for not being able to see his friends. [This is one of his favorite memories from the lockdown.]
- Using the lockdown as an impetus to talk more openly with my husband about money and our long-term financial plans. This strengthened our relationship through an incredibly trying, financially stressful time.
Don't get so caught up in trying to avoid (things that can't really be avoided) to the point where you forget to live, Friend.
XO,
Heather
|
