In The Moment

It’s been interesting to see how cancer really brings you into the present moment.  Turns your life around and dumps you in the here and now.  Every day is genuinely different for me.  And I never know how the day will be until I’m in it.

If I wake up feeling like crap (like yesterday) my day becomes focused on staying low-key, doing a lot of nothing, feeling a little sorry for myself, and eating crappy food because I “deserve” it cuz I’m sick…  Boo hoo…  Poor me…  Then a new day comes (like today) and I’m feeling good.  The sun is out.  I can go on an adventure.  Invite friends over.  Have fun.  Create memories.  And almost forget that I even have cancer.

Not knowing how I will feel each day has totally forced me to live in the moment.  It’s hard to make plans because I never know if I’ll be up to it.  Even when I am up to it, I’m not always fully able to enjoy it cuz I feel so crappy.  So now I wait to make plans until the day of.  A whole new way of living for this control freak excessive planner.

At the heart of all the stories I hear of people living with metastatic cancer well past their “expiration date” is a sense of iron-clad determination and refusal to give up.  Like the fantastic lady we met today at the public market who was told over 30 years ago that her metastatic breast cancer would kill her – and fast – but she’s still here.  She said what got her through was her attitude, the support she received, and getting rid of the emotional baggage that allowed the cancer to thrive in the first place (in her situation the baggage was her alcoholic ex-husband).

In my own fight I am really trying to understand what cancer has come to show me.  Why it came.  What lessons I’m supposed to learn from this.  What emotional baggage I have to work through.  I know if i don’t learn the lesson now it will continue to come back again and again and manifest itself in different ways until I finally get it.

In the meantime I’ll just keep living in the moment.

Love to all.  – T

 

9 Comments

  1. Laurie O'Neil on March 10, 2012 at 4:59 pm

    Profound my dear…
    Yet your words resonate with all of the sage bodhisattvas before you; your mother, Melody Beattie, Iyanla Vanzant, Pema Chodron, Joan Anderson, Anne Wilson Schaef, Joan Erikson, and the list goes on and on.
    And now, we have Terri Luanna, digging deep within her being to enlighten herself, and in the process, those lucky enough to know her.
    Once again, I am so honored to call you my niece.
    Love, Laurie



  2. mary rodericks on March 10, 2012 at 6:08 pm

    Your attitude IS amazing, and IS what’s going to get you through this. Making the best of each day is truly a challenge. I’m fighting a bad cold again, and as much as I hated hanging home today, I know it was what my body needed. I did make your blueberry buns, so I can take them to the meeting tomorrow night-hope to skype you then.
    Love. Tia Maria



  3. marybeth vargas on March 10, 2012 at 7:40 pm

    Hi terri..Im a friend and coworker of Marys . I just wanted to say you are amazing and I will be praying for you and your family. I,ll send alittle Reiki your way!!! I think positive energy goes along way…stay happy….marybeth



  4. Thomas on March 10, 2012 at 10:00 pm

    About fifteen minutes ago, I randomly became curious about what Spider Robinson was doing lately, and decided to plug his name into Google. I found his website, and thus the long essay about your current problems on its home page.

    Best wishes to you and yours.



  5. Sam Knowles on March 11, 2012 at 12:50 pm

    Dear Terri

    A big and gentle hug to you coming from Bowen. Holding you and your family in my heart; admiring and respecting your grace, courage, truth and clarity. Thank you too for the lessons your are teaching as you go forward – whether intentional or not! Love, and more, Sam



  6. Mary Agnew on March 11, 2012 at 7:17 pm

    Dearest Terri Luanna,

    Not every person who gets cancer has emotional baggage they need to work on. I suppose if you believe you have baggage from previous lives, then you may have some you don’t know about. You are so pure and strong and brave and brilliant in so many ways. You are not the cause of your condition.
    I wish I could be half the woman you are.
    I love you so very much.



  7. Eryka Peskin on March 11, 2012 at 10:09 pm

    Hey love,
    I think it’s important to consider this–as long as it doesn’t become a way to blame oneself for having cancer. It’s a fine line, isn’t it, between seeing what’s the lesson, where’s the possibility for growth (and I’m NOT talking about tumors!)…and feeling somehow “I must have brought this upon myself.”

    I love what Mary said: “You are not the cause of your condition.” I firmly and completely believe that. AND I also think that there are some incredible lessons you can learn from it, and ARE learning from it. So many come to mind…how to accept and receive love and help from others, how to parent, how to be in relationship with your hubby, how to focus on YOU…and more.

    I’m sure it’ll come as no surprise to learn that I’d be happy to fiercely cheerlead you and tell you all of the millions of ways you are awesome, and to process all of the potential lessons. I’m here for you, girl.

    xoxo



  8. mark chessman on March 12, 2012 at 1:00 pm

    Goodness,
    I can’t imagine. I wish the best for you.



  9. john johnson on March 12, 2012 at 2:47 pm

    Terri Luanna, in a way we are a little like foster brother and sister, your parents had a hand in bringing us both up, along with a few million other souls out there. My own sister waged battle with pre cancerous issues, hysterectomy, mastectomys, all to fight the fight before the battle needed to start. Or so it seemed. Been my experience watching friends, family who must wage this battle, that reinforcements are a great help. Seems like you have an armada behind you. You can win this one, your troops wont fail you. Hang in there and BE WELL! And give your dad a hug for the foster kid.
    Johnny