“Either the well was very deep or she fell very slowly for she had plenty of time as she went down to look about her…She tried to look down and make out what she was coming to, but it was too dark to see anything; then she looked at the sides of the well and noticed that they were filled with cupboards and bookshelves; here and there she saw maps and pictures hung upon pegs…Down, down, down. Would the fall never come to an end! I wonder how many miles I’ve fallen by this time, she said aloud…How funny it’ll seem to come out among the people that walk with their heads downward!”
The rabbit’s hole wasn’t just the means to an end. It wasn’t just a thoroughfare. It was part of the rabbit’s home.
How often do we strain to focus only on the ‘there’ that we are headed towards? I think this is the most significant upside-down that cancer has offered me. My life before cancer was always lived in the “I can’t wait till’s…” so much so that I didn’t pay much attention to the life while getting there. Then cancer. Certainly you’d think that through the unknowns of diagnosis and through the hell of treatment, I would have had every reason to live in the “I can’t wait till’s…” but I didn’t. I actually couldn’t. And here is why – When I was falling down that rabbit hole of blackness, “till” and whatever came after it ceased to exist. (Well, the figment of my imagination that told me I had any control over “till” and whatever came after it is what ceased to exist.) I didn’t know if I’d make it to the next day….in the most literal of senses. Throw in a semi ripping into my car at 65 miles per hour on I-70 just 10 days before ‘the call’ and even more literally, I couldn’t count on any “till’s.”
Cancer stopped time. I was forced to stop living for what was coming after the “till” and instead, live for only what I could actually see – the cupboards and bookshelves and pictures hung on pegs of my own rabbit hole….one that came out of nowhere and swallowed me right up. 3 years later (and quickly approaching anniversary #4), I remain upside down, living 5 minutes at a time, choosing slow, looking around rather than down, not designing my life around the “till.” Of course it’s hard to live here, 1. Because it gets lonely and 2. Because it’s easier to focus elsewhere, but I’ll never go back. That place doesn’t exist anymore and I like it here.
(Quote is from Chapter 1 of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, Through the Looking Glass by Lewis Carroll)
Long :: May 2, 2018
It was a long day…I’m just now done with it. I’m tired. I’m grateful.
#10 :: May 2, 2019
I’m super nauseous. I have an awful headache. And I’m dreadfully tired. But I’m also thankful tomorrow is here as we will cross another milestone with surgery/procedure #10.
One Thing (and at the Same Time, Another) :: May 2, 2020
I think in this experience of survivorship, I’m learning how to care deeply while also hold things loosely. Cancer has this really intense way of teaching how to live in between those seemingly opposing forces. I’ll admit that I’ve been uncomfortable for a few weeks now, antsy, insecure, pining for some unknown thing that I just know will make me feel better (and then subsequently frustrated that I can’t seem to figure out what that thing is), feeling unsettled in my life like I’m not doing something I should be doing…
During the days of diagnosis and treatment, I knew my objective. While mind-numbingly difficult to trudge through that muck, there was direction. But now here, in survivorship, it’s not so clear.
So as I sat down this morning to process and get some things outta my head, it occurred to me that the previously mentioned tension is just plain hard to live in. It’s hard to care deeply about things while also holding them loosely. It’s hard to invest in something that, in all reality, is fleeting. It’s hard to be a visionary with hope for the future when my life experiences have taught me that right now is all that is guaranteed. But in that very challenging tension also lives the key to grace. The key. The key that unlocks a hardened heart. The key that unlocks a selfish spirit. The key that unlocks a guarded soul. Think about it – what causes hardened hearts and selfish spirits and guarded souls? What would be on your list? If I could venture a guess: In each of the items on your list, vulnerability would have been taken advantage of and grace would have been lacking. You didn’t measure up… You weren’t enough… You made *that mistake one too many times… You were hurt over and over… You caused hurt over and over… … …
If I learn how to trust the vulnerability (fully accepting that I might get hurt) in caring deeply for something (because it is totally okay that it matters) while at the same time extending the grace (for myself or someone else) that is required to hold it all loosely (because everything is temporary even when it hurts), I might just be okay in all that life (both good and bad) brings.
Read that again. And maybe write it on your mirror.