Not Missing Out

The other day someone asked me if having survived cancer had influenced me to feel like there were certain things I had to accomplish in my life.  Things that I now felt obligated to do, or that I absolutely didn't want to miss, having gone through what I have.  I've been thinking about this question a lot recently.  In fact, I've been thinking a lot about what is different in my thinking, in my perspective on my life now, compared to before I was diagnosed.  About how I feel on a daily basis, whether it's better or how it's different from before.

One thing that I think is important to communicate about what this feels like is that I don't necessarily think of what I went through as a near-death experience, even though it was.  The overriding feeling for me is more of having gone through something really difficult, both physically and psychologically.  The near-death experience didn't last a long time, and it really was months ago.  The enduring challenge of undergoing chemotherapy is something that lasted a lot longer - something that I am still going through in fact - and so this is definitely the strongest sensation I have of what I've been through.

Getting cancer changed a lot of things for me.  But particularly it changed how I think about myself.  I used to think that there were certain ways that things are, ways things are supposed to be, and ways that I fit into that story.  I thought I knew the answers.  More importantly, I was concerned with the idea of there being answers to know.  Most significantly I used to think that I was special in some way.  Somehow different from other people.  I thought I had a deeper understanding of life than many others, and that this set me apart from them.  This was an isolating way to think of myself.

When I found out I had lymphoma, this idea that I was special dissolved pretty quickly.  I saw through it in a way that I never would have been able to otherwise.  I realized that not only was I not special and different, I was just exactly the same as everyone else.  I think a lot of people in my generation were fed this idea that they are special.  I'm not making a judgement about it.  I understand the motivation and the tendency behind it.  We want to see the world improve.  We want to see progress, evolution.  And so we convince ourselves of it, whether it exists or not.  And actually I'm not even denying the idea of that, not at all.  I tend to believe that we are evolving, as a group, on a large scale, even if it's at a slow pace.  I don't know, I mean, I have only been alive 30 years, and have only seen what I've seen - a very small glimpse of the human experience.  But here's my point:  I'm not special, not any more than anyone else is.  We are all individuals and we all have our uniqueness.  But we are also all basically equal.  And that is wonderful.

The reason I think this is wonderful is that seeing people in this way encourages appreciating them, no matter who they are or what they bring to the table, for just the way they are.  The same concept can be applied to life in general.  Whereas before I may have wanted my life to be or feel a certain way, somehow different than it was, now I am just happy that it is the way it is, and that it is at all.  So to bring this back to the question I was asked, regarding things I want to do or accomplish, my answer is that I do not feel obligated to experience certain things, or to accomplish certain things.  I feel incredibly grateful that I can experience anything.  And I am excited to do anything.  And I am so happy that I can just be here, now, thinking about and talking about my life.

Are there things I want to do?  Absolutely.  I feel freer to explore life than I did before.  I feel like a weight of obligation has been lifted.  The obligation to feel different from others, and to set myself apart from them through my thinking.  I didn't realize I was thinking that way before.  But I'm sure glad that I have been able to see past it.  The biggest difference for me now is simply that I'm happier.  And it has everything to do with this change in perspective.  It feels to me like I was trying to screw a square peg into a round hole but I just couldn't see either one for what they were, and then someone came along and was like, "dude, you're doing it wrong.  Here's a nice cold glass of lemonade."  The point there being that the whole act of screwing the thing into the thing was pointless and didn't even really exist, and so I should just sit back and enjoy myself and not worry about it.

I hope I'm expressing all of this clearly.  It's something that I can feel in a very tangible way, but that I'm not always sure how to explain to someone else.  The main idea I want to convey is that this whole thing hasn't created limits for me, it's removed them.  That's the simplest way I can say it.  I am just happy that I can fully enjoy myself, where I didn't feel I could before.  Because of that, I'm content to spend time with those I care about, doing whatever.  I am no less passionate about doing the things I love.  But I am much more passionate about the people I love, and that includes everyone who has supported me through this.  I'm not afraid of missing out, because now I know what's truly important to me.  And I'm so happy to have my life back I could cry every day.