Today is my 35th birthday, meaning it has now been five years since a group of friends and family gathered at my parents' home in Centennial, CO to celebrate my 30th birthday. At that time, I was deep into chemotherapy treatment and was balder than the day I was born.
These five years have flown by, and in a way seem like a lifetime of their own. As I grow older I have begun to feel that my life is a series of phases; each with a distinct theme or feel. The theme of the past five years has been one of adjustment and re-discovery: the process of establishing an identity and a way of relating to myself in the wake of a significant trauma.
As I've written in the past, my diagnosis was in many ways like the end of my life as it had been. Because not only did I come very close to not surviving, I also experienced a dramatic shift in perspective that had a radical influence on my experience of life. The person I had been - my beliefs, interests, values - essentially expired, and so I have spent the past five years re-establishing those things for myself.
It's been a challenging process for me. Life is vast and can be overwhelming, and my previous frame of reference had been removed. But it was also liberating. I felt free of the restrictions of the way I had approached things before. Today I am simply happy to take the opportunity to reflect on the journey of the past five years.
My experience with cancer is still somewhat surreal, and seems very far behind me now. It seems like five years is a significant landmark with cancer. And my doctor has told me it is unlikely that the same disease would return at this point. There is always the possibility of cancer coming back, of a new cancer or some other downstream effect of the treatment I had. And that possibility has been a significant source of anxiety for me at times. But it's something all cancer survivors live with, and it's a very small price to pay for getting to live.
One of the frustrations with life that I've grappled with even from a very young age is that it isn't fair. And the source of that frustration is rooted in a way of thinking that I don't actually believe is correct. It is not relevant to say that life isn't fair from person to person, because it is completely different for each person, and ultimately life simply is what it is for each of us. But it's an easy frame of mind to slip into. "Why did this happen to this person and not to another?" The place this comes up for me the most is related to death and disease. "Why did one person get sick and another did not; why did one person survive when another did not?" These are questions without answers. But they come up every time something terrible or tragic happens. The question of why is always sitting there, unresolved.
For me, the art of life is figuring out a way to move forward with purpose, resolve, and optimism in the face of these unanswered questions. There are many ways to accomplish this. But the key is to find a method with which you are fully contented; one that does not leave a small gap in the back of your mind, or a doubt deep in the recesses of your heart somewhere. Such a method enables us to fully embrace our lives, to accept the things that happen, and to live uninhibited.
I want to once again express my gratitude to you, the individuals who have followed along with this experience I have had and have shown me unimaginable love and support. Thank you for being in my life.
Here is to the passage of time, the love of family and friends, and the next phase of life to come.
Cheers,
Chris
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