It's happening for me, not to me.
I reject being a victim.
Well, hot damn! I have cancer after all.
The universe is testing me this year. Actually, I’m wondering if the universe is always pitching my way and I’ve just not noticed before. Like the saying, The teacher appears when the student is ready, it’s been here all along, ready to teach, and I finally opened an eyeball and looked around.
One trap when drifting through life is thinking that what you see and feel is real and true.
Too abstract? I’ll try to get tangible.
I have cancer in addition to pre cancer, which I didn’t know was a thing until a few weeks ago. It’s a good thing I have the precancerous area or I wouldn’t have had the additional screenings and found the legit cancer yet.
I have no pain. Without the yearly preventative care, I’d be walking around not knowing I have cancer. I couldn’t see it or feel it so it might as well not exist.
Except it does. It’s real, regardless of my perception.
Choosing a more beautiful story
There are facts then there are stories, how we interpret or color the facts.
Stories of cancer and layoffs tend to come with a side of emotional and physical pain. Like Ares (war), accompanied by his sons Deimos (fear) and Phobos (terror), they are always linked.
But I’m allowed to choose my own narrative.
Do you know the Chinese parable about the farmer’s runaway horse? The villagers are like “that’s bad news” and the farmer says “we’ll see” and the horse returns with a herd of wild horses making the farmer prosperous, until his son falls off a wild stallion and breaks his arm, but that keeps him from being drafted into the military, and so on.
Information is neutral. It’s our perspective, our stories, that make it bad or good news. Like my pre cancer. That sounds like bad news, but it actually helped me.
A few questions for choosing a more useful or beautiful narrative:
What if the opposite was true?
What if this was not hurting me?
What if this was actually helping me?
Maybe getting laid off is exactly what I need to take the leap into leadership consulting. Maybe a cancer diagnosis is actually helping me shift my thinking.
Every experience is a possibility for growth and learning. The teacher appears when the student is ready.
A benevolent universe
One thing I can see now, is that this year has been a gift. It’s not happening to me. It’s happening for me.
This is an uncommon perspective. Not everyone can see the possibility in traditionally negative stories. Maybe it’s too outside their box. Or maybe it’s inside my box and it’s not real or true either. It’s all perception.
Regardless, it’s also not how I started this year. Maybe the universe, the divine spirit, God, #deity, etc noticed I’d been drifting, pulled out its book of tricks, and cast some magic my way to get me to finally see.
She just will not snap out of it! The copperhead didn’t work. She did pass up the easy-but-wrong job. That was good. But then she got caught up in fear and scarcity. All right. Let’s give her scarcity. She’ll get laid off. Ooh… how about we add a cancer scare? And when she’s finally accepted that, we’ll give her actual cancer! After all that, there’s no way she can ignore her true calling.
Orbiting positivity
Some days are easier. One thing I’m learning is that I don’t need cling desperately to positivity. It’s a cycle, or maybe an orbit. I let it go, I return to it.
In the meantime, I nurture myself. I breathe intentionally. Hug my kids. Do some crafts. Pet the cats (Hades, Lord of the Underbed, and Nyx, Supreme Diety of Darkness). Talk to people. Return to it.
Stay in motion
I’ve got work to do. That’s the point. To make a difference. Difference requires change, which requires action. Stay in motion.
Thank you for reading. Your attention is a generous gift.
Love,
Kate
p.s. If this post made you smile, please share that smile (and/or this post) with someone else.
p.p.s. May I offer some advice? Keep up with the preventative care. Get a mammogram, a physical, colonoscopy, whatever fits your life stage. It can change your future and maybe even your present.
Oh Kate! I too have walked the breast cancer path, though perhaps not with as much wonderful perspective as you. Nonetheless if you ever need an ear, I’m here.