What does CTMT mean? It means “Cancer Teaches Me Things”

“There has been nothing like cancer to teach me about the things that matter. Things mattered before, sure, but now different things matter and things matter differently.” – @thepurposedsailor  

What are “the things”?? – It starts with HOW I pay attention. And then it’s what I pay attention to. What I keep. What I give up. Who I am. How I connect. In what ways these things impact my understanding of myself and of others…of humanity. How these things show up in my grief and my gratitude. How they show up physically, emotionally, intellectually, socially, spiritually. What can I learn if only I pay attention. . . . . and cancer teaches me to pay attention.

This is a series about all of those things cancer teaches me. One ‘word of the month’ at a time.

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NOTICE

A review from last month.

Truth be told, I am feeling quite terrible today (cancer really does suck), the day that I had set aside to write for my February CTMT post, so…I’m gonna keep this one simple. As I’d challenged all of you, I, too, really tuned in to ‘noticing’ this past month, asking myself the questions I’d posed at the end of last month’s post:

How will you notice?
What is there to be noticed? In yourself? In others?
What can you learn from what you’re noticing?
What stops you in your tracks? Is there an image? A sense? A thought?
What do you notice that is good? That is real? That is painful?
What questions do you notice come to your mind?
When you notice a feeling, what do you do? 
Are there themes you’re picking up on because you’re paying attention?
Look for or listen for nuance. What do you notice?
How will noticing deepen your understanding of yourself and humanity?
How has noticing changed you?

It was an interesting experience being so tuned in to ‘noticing’…

I noticed how introspective I am on a regular, daily, almost hourly basis. That I pay attention to my internal world, the way my body feels, the dialogues my mind engages in, the thoughts that pass through and the ones that linger… I noticed when my anxiety was heightened by the ruminating thoughts, the inaccurate stories I sometimes tell myself, and I also noticed in those moments how I was able to respond differently than I have tended to in the past. I’ve continued to pay attention to how my body feels and where in my body I feel, to be connected to it and let it tell me things; like when I was driving to Rose for my oncology appointment, two intersections in particular felt like gut punches or when I was driving to a work event and passed by a medical office I hadn’t passed since my biopsy and how the sight of it made me instantly nauseous; that it was okay to feel these things because cancer sucks and has brutalized me. I noticed my anger at injustice and pontifications based on assumption rather than reality and fact; I noticed my underlying resentment of the very real issue of not being able to trust anything, AI, deep fakes, skewed news to push agendas (from all sides, mind you), where our food comes from, what our medical system and insurance companies do to keep us sick, what our government does to manipulate control. I have tuned into the questions I ask myself, I have become more intentional about the questions I ask others, and what answers follow, both said and unsaid. I’ve tuned into where my gratitude can be found. Where light is seen. Where purpose can keep me grounded. I notice the little nuances of what it is to drink cold water or hot tea, or the nuances of someone’s facial expressions when they talk, or the nuances of what makes my fuse feel short and the times when I feel like the most patient person in the entire world, or the nuances of the slight breeze that blows and the texture of the avocado I’m eating, or the nuance of how I feel in my own skin in a certain outfit different than another. I have noticed feelings of betrayal and hope and apprehension and surrender and insecurity and weariness and stoicism and peace. And I’ve noticed these past many weeks that the main thing that rings loudest in my mind: ‘anchor to the things that make me different.’ 

In this focus on ‘noticing,’ many things have come to my attention. This was the point of course, and it certainly confirms that A LLLOOOOOOTTTTTTT goes on unseen and A LLLOOOOOOTTTTTTT of life is lived layers below and above the obvious. 

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DISCERN

A challenge for next month.

If you read all of my noticing thinking, ‘this is so random’…well, that is kind of what noticing is. It’s paying attention and then deciding what matters to take note of and what can simply pass on through. Which leads me to the next ‘word of the month’ – DISCERN.

To discern is to perceive by sight or some other sense or by the intellect; to see, recognize, or apprehend. It is to distinguish mentally; recognize as distinct or different. So once you notice, then you discern.

– When you sense something with any of your senses (including a ‘felt sense’), what do you do with that information?
– How might your discernment help you better understand yourself? A situation? Another person? Another person’s perspective? 
– To discern is to perceive but perception is largely subjective. Can you acknowledge that? Can you take care that your perceptions do not become projections?
– Discerning is distinguishing which allows you to do you while honoring the autonomy of another. Are you able to discern for yourself rather than decide for someone else?
– Discernment can teach you when to have a short memory, choosing what doesn’t have to take up space in your mind/self and then oppositely, what you want to carry with you and why. (Very important caveat – some memories are stored without our control, often in times of trauma and/or survival mode, these are not the memories I’m talking about as trauma healing isn’t to be minimized and overly-simplified by ‘just choosing not to have them’.)

I recognize that these are some big questions that might cause some discomfort. I’d surmise it might be worth it…for yourself and for those you encounter…to ask and consider them anyway.

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Thanks for reading 🩷🫶🏼

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If you’re new here, here’s some context:

In January of this year (2024), I wrote about how cancer and grief teach me things. The Purposed Sailor is a place where I share my story and my learnings to make meaning from it all, to give it purpose… because grief, and that which is grieved, MATTERS. As a fellow griever, and as a grief counselor and grief coach, one of the main tenants of “grief care” is to make meaning of and find purpose for our grief. Not as a way to perpetuate melancholy but rather to live in the kindness of the BothAnd. May my journey maybe help you in yours because grief is the great connector. You’re not alone. This is what I wrote:

Cancer teaches me things. That’s the entire premise of The Purposed Sailor. It’s the underpinning of every story and blog and concept and challenge I share. It’s an anchor point for me to stay connected to my humanity, to remain present, to embrace change, to esteem others, and to live conscious, participatory, and on purpose. 
Intrinsically present, in every crevice of this, is grief. Therefore, if cancer teaches me things, grief does, too. 
Now, grief has a bad rap. It has a connotation. We’re conditioned to run, that it’s better to distract and divert rather than feel, that it doesn’t need a seat at the table. Grief is rarely given a proper respect, too easy to misunderstand and misrepresent and misinterpret and so, to disregard. But I’m here to challenge that. As the true BothAnd girl that I am, yes – good and joy and gratitude and all things positive can teach us much. AND so can grief. 
Grief isn’t only death loss, massive as that is, it is in non-death loss, also, and as such, it is one of the few things that is universally human….everyone will grieve something at some point in their lifetime. And what does a universally experienced circumstance do? It creates connection. And what can connection do? Oh. So. Much. (Kindness, grace, understanding, empathy, relationship, love, respect, honor, empowerment…for others and for self. And this is the short list!)
Turns out, prosperity/positivity/perfection are relative terms and are hardly universally experienced, meaning their definitions are vastly different and often qualified by factors not collective and comparable. So, those things don’t always offer connection (and in my lived experience, are the things that actually drive disconnection). 
I’m likely saying things you already know. And if you haven’t thought of it this way, I welcome you to consider its implications in your life. But why have I started off 2024 talking about this? Because if I have learned one thing in cancer, it is this: Grief has so much to teach us if only we’d let it. 

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