The Purposeful Point :: November 2023

Balloons. More balloons. Perspectives. More perspectives.

Balloons.

The vantage point of cancer changes the way I see time.
It is in such a tilted kilter as it isn’t what it once was, and it won’t ever return to its conventions from before because that is simply impossible. I’ve seen too much to unsee. I’ve changed so much the old is long gone. My mind, heart, soul, and body are forever and completely altered. Literally.

November ushered in another birthday for me. And with birthdays now, I can’t help but reflect on time. I gratefully celebrate another year granted to me because I can’t ever take for granted the years. I continue to exist in 5-minutes-at-a-time, the brutality of cancer always teaching me that that’s really all I get anyways. I feel a lot different now about 44, all things considered, than I remember expecting I’d feel about it 10 years ago. I do things differently – like the questions I ask, or what I say “I’m sorry” for, or how I determine what value I put on others’ opinions of me. And because of the hell of cancer, I hold in tension, with my gratitude and all my learnings, a survivor’s guilt because I’m lucky enough to be surviving. For now, anyways.

While I love the balloons and candles and wishes and cupcakes, the BothAnds of birthdays now are confusing. I am so glad to continue living as there are many that aren’t afforded that gift, I am so thankful to get to still know and love my people, I am forced to acknowledge how much it has wrecked each of us, I must accept what existing in daily suffering does to living, and always with me is my cancer monster squeezing its claws to remind me not to get comfortable and presumptive. My harsh truth is that birthday balloons are just not what they once were. Lovely, yes, but now they hold so much more.


More balloons.

The vantage point of cancer changes the way I see space.
Sooooo, funny story: I have this NewOld friend…she’s “new” in the sense that we just started working together this year. But she’s “old” in that it would seem we’ve been friends for ages. One day towards the end of October, when we were both in the office, (I’m usually not there as I typically work from home) she told me a story about her family taking a day trip to a realbeach (we live in Colorado, real beaches don’t exist here…)  She shared that it was a glorious day full of incredible memories and her gratitude was overflowing that Frontier makes it so affordable to do such a thing so that she could fill her soul with the energy of the ocean. “How amazingly wonderful!” I said back to her, “that would be so fun!” Her reply – “You know, we, um, could do the same thing…find a reason to take a day trip somewhere…fill our souls…come back with a fun story to tell, renewed energy, memories to hold…”

Before I knew it, we’d determined such a reason: She and I, and another close friend, had some significant accomplishments happen recently—accomplishments that took years, took intention and energy and grittiness to complete, took hope and determination to see it to the finish line, took faith that it would be worth all of the blood, sweat, and tears—and so, OF COURSE this is the reason! We must celebrate! And what better way to do so than to hop on a plane (thanks Frontier for being affordable), spend a day somewhere new doing new things, and hop back on a plane to come home that same day. HA! 

That day we talked about it. Said it would be so fun to make happen. Even looked at the calendar and found an actual day that would even work to do such a thing. Oh, how we laughed and felt crazy and spontaneous! And then we got busy with work and went about our business. A few days went by, and I found myself giggling often, thinking about that funny day at the office where we were talking bananas. 

Then I had to go to the office again the next week. When I walked in that morning, she said, 
“HI! So, I found super cheap flights to Arizona, perfect departure and return times! Wanna go to Arizona?” 
“Um, well, you weren’t kidding last week were you?!”
“HA! NOPE! And also, L and I found something really amazing to do there! Wanna hear about it?” Her giddiness was bursting.
“Okay, yeah! Tell me!”
“A sunset hot air balloon ride over the Sonora desert, that comes with a champagne toast! You know, to celebrate!!!” 
“Wait, WHAT?” 
“And it just so happens that they have an open reservation for the 3 of us on the 6th! The same day we all have free!!?” 
“Whoa! That’s wild!!”
“So, what do you think!!? Wanna do it?! I have everything bookmarked…it’s all just a few clicks away!” 

This was absolutely something I would have never considered before. Traveling…not really my thing. Planes tend to make me sick. I don’t love heights. I’m so not an adrenaline junkie or thrill-seeker. I like the ground and having my feet on it. But, my friend! She wasn’t just saying how fun this all would be, she was serious. Like  S E R I O U S. She was FOLLOWING THROUGH. We had our flights, and our hot air balloon ride with a champagne toast, and our rental car booked before I even saw my first client that day. What in banana-town just happened!? 

So, yes, cancer teaches me things. Living full, prioritizing meaningful moments, saying yes to things that used to get no’s, investing in relationships that change and challenge me, balance in purpose, joy, and out-of-the-box thinking… Being so close to death that I’ve smelled its acrid breath forces me to see from a different vantage point. In living changed, I am living changed. And it was SO fun. So much that if I could, I’d do it again and again and again. It was a 10 out of 10. And I highly recommend. (Pics below!)


Perspectives.

The enormity of a hot air balloon is truly astounding. To state the obvious, when you see them peppered out in the sky, they look small. They take up small spaces along the horizon, little dots of color among the clouds. When up close, the view is quite different. The basket, the fire, the sheer size of the balloon as it’s filling with air where the pilot walking around inside of it seems small. 

Oh! how this can be such a picture of life, too, right? From afar things look different then when they are up close. How distance from something makes it appear and seem smaller and then as its proximity closes in, it takes up more space in our hearts, minds, souls, and bodies, yet all the while the thing doesn’t necessarily change. Take grief as an example – whatever it is you grieve feels massive up close as it takes up what feels like every nook and cranny of your being. Then when a distance happens, sometimes by time, sometimes by circumstances, sometimes by choosing to step back, the grief changes in intensity. The significance of that thing though, doesn’t actually change. 

When things are up close, you can see details and intricacies that only their closeness can show you just as when there is a distance and a horizon, a bigger picture can be seen altogether. The point is that BOTH matter. 

One of the things I am known for (or hope to be known for) is that I will often take an ‘ism’ or a cliché or a common saying and challenge it. Not because I don’t value it as it is, but I also think what isn’t said says something, too. Both sides of a coin have equal value, heads isn’t better than tails, they are just different. Rock, paper, and scissors all wield the same power yet are inherently distinctive. So goes perspective. 

Case in point, when we say certain things to people, rarely are they standalone statements. Like, “Live in the moment.” Yes, that is a great encouragement. But also, it could be that this moment hurts so living there isn’t so simple. Or, “You only live once so just go for it.” Sure, take risks because there could be high reward! But also, we only live once and consequences very much matter, often for a lifetime. “Self-care is vital.” But how can I care when I can’t even live with myself? “You’re enough.” But I don’t feel complete. “Your body was made for health and healing.” But my body let me down, it isn’t a refuge, and it isn’t safe. “Be grateful.” But oh how I grieve. “Seek peace.” But the quiet is so loud. In each of these examples, both sides can be true, even at the exact same time. Just as the hot air balloon remains as it is even if the vantage point changes. 


More perspectives.

Here’s a different angle on the metaphor: 
Let’s look at how changing the vantage point changes the picture. If I am in the hot air balloon, my view changes looking out from it. On the ground, I can see a limited view of the things around me. As the balloon rises, more can be taken in. So it goes in life. A limited view can create close-mindedness but when we look wider, outside of narrow thinking, the perspective changes. 

This concept can be applied to many different facets of life. Decision-making. Personal growth. Relationships. Empathy. Parenting. Goal setting and dreaming. Connecting. Defining values. Opinions of others . . . . .

“They are so high maintenance.” Or maaaaybe it’s them caring about being intentional

“How shallow can they be!?” It’s probably more like their vulnerability is safer when talking about the weather. 

“They are so selfish.” Orrrrr what if they are learning how to value themselves because no one else has? 

“They shouldn’t be that way.” Uh, actually, it’s that they get to do it their way. 

“They owe me an explanation.” Or should it be that they are entitled to keep things to themselves. 

“How anti-social and rude! Hmph.” I’d bet they are quiet for a reason, and probably reasons you wouldn’t want to have personal experience with. 

“They are so hard to love.” But what if it’s really them doing everything they possibly can simply to survive.


November’s Message

I’d challenge you to consider pondering the depth of this metaphor. How might it change you?

Next time you see a hot air balloon, or even a birthday balloon, think about perspectives. Do you need to change vantage points? Zoom out to widen narrow views? Zoom in to focus on important details? Create space for yourself or others? Believe two truths can be true at the same time? Challenge perceptions…your own or another’s? Reflect? Redefine? Reevaluate?


Thank you for reading. See you next month! ♥️


6 Thoughts on “The Purposeful Point :: November 2023

  1. Hi Amber,

    So many insights to relate to in this one. This really struck a chord: “I’ve seen too much to unsee. I’ve changed so much the old is long gone. My mind, heart, soul, and body are forever and completely altered. Literally.”

    Cancer changes everything. Almost anyway. I’m really glad you went on the trip. Sounds like you had such a good time.

    I love your November challenge. Lots to reflect upon in there. Keep challenging the cliches. I think I love that most about your writing. Appreciating that two (or more) things can be true at the same time.

    And, happy birthday! Here’s to many more.

  2. Happy Birthday dear Amber ! May God bless you with lots of joy and cheer always !
    After a long waiting, your latest blog comes with happiness,and satisfaction.
    Immortal words:
    ““You only live once so just go for it.” Sure, take risks because there could be high reward! But also, we only live once and consequences very much matter, often for a lifetime. “Self-care is vital.” But how can I care when I can’t even live with myself? “You’re enough.” But I don’t feel complete. “Your body was made for health and healing.” But my body let me down, it isn’t a refuge, and it isn’t safe. “Be grateful.” But oh how I grieve. “Seek peace.” But the quiet is so loud. In each of these examples, both sides can be true, even at the exact same time. ”
    I will be 84 next month. I should learn from you how to celebrate it, with all my problems of metastatic RCC, swollen feet [edema],bouts of fatigue and worries of problems I may create to my dear family members in future if my condition worsens– even though I am quite mobile now !
    Love to read your writings always !
    Blessings
    Ramana T
    India

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