One Year Later

It's been just over a year now since I began blogging. Who would have "thunk it?" But it is like a life blood to me now. I don't do numerous entries, but I am writing them in my head all the time. Sometimes they get down here, but other times they disappear as fast as they are created. I spent the first few months really comparing the city and the mountains, both of which are inextricably part of my soul now. I also compared it all to the chemotherapy experience, losing hair, redefining space, realizing who are friends and who really are not, appreciating living moment to moment, and the roller coaster ride that cancer takes you on.

I am still on that ride, the "ride for my life." And I have learned more about how to let go. That's a tough one in all respects, an emotional quagmire. In letting go, I have found that I first need to become aware of what it is that I need to relinquish, like anger, disappointment, frustration, or sheer vulnerability. I have some anger in a few blogs here, but mostly I have come to realize that the anger is about things I cannot control. I cannot control how someone reacts to me. If the reaction is up front and honest, I can deal with that; but when it goes by some underground circuitous route, the result is inevitably disasterous. I used to fight it, but now I just think, "leave it where Jesus flung it. I want nothing to do with it. It's your problem and I won't make it mine."

And of course there is always the lack of control over my health. I can only do so much, and the rest is up to something far greater than I or anyone else. I deal with that lack of control by accepting I have the wild cells in my body that want to destroy me and I refuse to give in to them. We are at a stand off sometimes, other times I'm gaining ground, and then they make a comeback. I accept the existance of this silent battle that is raging in my life, with my life, and I live as best I can dispite it. But I will not give in. My energy is directed in this arena full-time.

And then there is the anger. That comes with the many everyday frustrations that accompany such a battle, whether it is not being able to sleep sometimes, or not being able to have my treatment on the designated day due to side effects, or not being able to maintain the energy levels I wish I could, or having to prioritize what I am willing to expend my energy on and what is too costly. I found a great outlet for my anger the other day. Sunday I went to a NY Knicks vs. the Boston Celtics basketball game at Madison Square Garden. It was an exciting game, my two favorite teams, and I screamed and jumped up and down for the entire game. I felt so relaxed on my way home from the game, even though my Knicks lost, as if a burden had been lifted. Anger can get heavy when ignored. Screaming is great, especially when it is acceptable.

I think disapointment, frustration that comes from it, with the resulting feeling of vulnerability are all connected like a web that can strangle my soul if I let it. I just always have to remind myself that I am not brave, nor do I have to be. I just have to be determined. That is all that I require of myself. I cannot expect anything but simply unconditionally live my life moment to moment. My students tell me I am bold, and they define that as truthful. They tell me most people are afraid to be truthful. I tend to agree. I've pretty much lost my conditioned fear of being up front with how I feel and what I think. This is a result of not wanting to expend what precious energy I have to hide or censor what I feel or think. Actually, I really have enjoyed that for the most part. People usually react one of two ways to me: direct and honestly back to me which opens for a whole new, deeper level of communication that is energizing; or swallowing it as if it is a personal attack on their psyche, and totally disengaging in any meaningful conversation at all costs. The latter is what disappoints and saddens me.

And so, as I do a quick reflection here, just a glimpse of all the reflection I have been actually doing of late, I am glad I have a place to mark down my passage, my learnings as I embark on this journey that was never of my chosing. I have received some emails as well as comments to this journal that have let me know that for many, this blog has been insightful for them, or in the least, of some interest. It's funny how when you have a disease, the first thing that happens is that helpful people try to be helpful by giving you books, articles, stories, and so on about other people who have the same disease. It is quite a phenomena, one that I have written about in an early installment on my blog. But the truth is, that is the last thing I need. I, as an aware, reflective person, will learn about the disease on my own terms--let me. And my blog here is not for others with the disease. It is primarily for me to see what I think, and secondarily, for others to see what a person experiencing something in particular is feeling and thinking, and perhaps it will lend insight to someone else you, the reader knows, with a similar journey. It is not a guide on how to decipher how to react to a sick person. It is a nudging to think about how to reflect on life, maybe your life? Who knows? Ah, such graniose thoughts, eh?