How Can Cancer At Least Occasionally Seem Like Such a Positive Thing?

Banksy

I wrote a while back about sitting in meditation, tuning into the tenderness in my heart. I am acutely aware of this now, not only of my own tenderness, but of being surrounded by it. Like my need to defend or protect myself has somehow broken down.

A few people have told me that it was upsetting to read that I am thinking about being ready to die. It is understandable. Being ready to die is also an extremely positive thing...because being prepared for death is essentially the same as being ready to live. You can't only be ready for one thing, they are too much inside of each other.

My life has become more unified. I realize how often in the past I have felt subtle guilt about what I am doing (or not doing), or subtle anxiety (often about money, about the future.) I have spent so much time planning, planning tomorrow, planning next year. Now, I can't think about anything more than two weeks away. Really: nothing. I do not think about the future. It is too clear that there is nothing I can know about it right now.

I do not feel that I am practicing, or trying to do, anything, but that certain things have dropped away or simplified in ways I could not have anticipated. I feel less psychologically complex. I feel that what I've been practicing (or something) has flowered...into a caring and connected feeling for friends and strangers around me. For example, on the street I spend ages petting a dog, or chatting with an at least slightly crazed homeless person. The world, the life that the world is filled with, seems magic. I don't think I have ever known so deeply that I am loved.

If my life returns....well could my life ever return to what it was? Doubtful. But if someday I am able to expend some energy in other ways, through somehow to the other side of cancer, I hope some part of these threads, which have made my life so sweet, will carry on.