What I already know

There are certain things we know consciously, and a whole lot more we know. The two can even conflict with one another at times -

I know the tumour I had typically comes back in five to twelve years, and that I am never technically healed from cancer, living in an unknown state of remission.

However, I also know that odds can be defied, that the power of the human spirit can conquer physical ailments and disease.

As I fell apart in front of him, James gently reminded me last night that I have recently been letting the burden of expecting to live a normal successful life weigh me down.

With all the love I have ever seen in a human’s eyes (it humbles me), he noted that I’ve been planning for a ‘regular’ career path. “Think about what you want to do in your life, and take action,” he said.

“If, in five years, the tumour comes back, do you want to have lived 100% of your life by that point, or just 5%? It’s not that I think it will, but you have to keep it in your mind as a possibility. You can’t just live in denial of it.”

It was my lover who has been the spark in reminding me what I already knew, but had forgotten. He reminded me that life is ephemeral; we never know how long we have, or which precious moments we may miss the joy of fully experiencing.

It’s an interesting dichotomy, choosing between believing I will conquer this thing and harnessing my confidence in the future to do so, or letting cancer be a reminder of the impermanence of life.

On one hand, the power of positive imagery is certainly something I know, albeit subconsciously a lot of the time. Mental projections of a long and happy future surely can’t be bad, right...?

That’s what I’ve thought, up until today. However I’ve noticed that because of this belief, I’ve been slipping into a thought pattern that is afraid, that plans and waits, that thinks getting a typical journalist’s newsroom job could be a ‘good starting place’ for a career.

The other option may not sound so positive, in fact, it may seem mildly depressing. However when I feel it - feel the affect it has on me - it feels exciting and healing.

If you only had five years, what would you do differently?

This question has been turning over in my mind today, thanks to the timely reminder I had last night.

I would love, give, write, forgive, and be grateful. I would take more risks. I wouldn’t work in a low-paying, high stress job - financially, I would work to build assets for James and I (and our family) rather than rely on an income. I would share what I have learned. I would live more in the present moment, because that is the only life I have left.  

Interestingly, I picked up an old diary of mine this morning as I woke with the light streaming in. In it was written a New Year’s resolution from a couple of years ago -

To love unboundedly

Live consciously

Breathe slowly

Feel passionately

Know deeply

Listen wholeheartedly

Move freely

Speak sincerely

Laugh wholly

Grow constantly

…this I had forgotten. It’s so easy to forget.

It’s time to remember the fragility of time, the value of each moment, and forget fear.