By Halcyon
Life is hard. From the moment we open our infant eyes to the blinding white of a delivery room until we follow that light to places unknown, it seems there’s always something trying to stand in our way. There are days when all you want to do is give in, let it take over, and be swept away to anywhere but here. In her new series The Awakening, Halcyon hopes that giving us a lifeline will help us find our way back.
The Awakening: Being Here
One small crack doesn’t mean that you are broken. It means that you were put to the test and you did not fall apart. (Linda Poindexter)
This new series was originally intended to be something else entirely – and while I may incorporate some of what I’d planned to, it will only be those thoughts that I think pertain to this.
So what is “this” about, you might be wondering? What exactly does “Being Here” mean? Before I reveal that, let me tell you a little about how I got here and why the sudden shift to a different article. Simply enough, I got sick. Not a cold or flu, and not anything life threatening like cancer. In fact, as I write this, I am still not certain what is going on. For lack of a concrete diagnosis I am going to use “chronic pain”, as it’s been three years now. I’ve steadily worked my way up the narcotic ladder with no real change in how I feel. I am no longer working at a physical job, but doing mainly freelance as I try to ascertain my situation and how I might be able to earn money writing.
With that in mind, let me explain this series. “The Awakening” is a journey toward “Being Here,” which essentially means, being present. I’ve been lucky enough to have known, and still know, some pretty amazing people who have been confronted with major illness and obstacles, who still manage to be present in their life and walk through the difficulties with joy, a smile, and a capacity to view these obstacles as an adventure. This series will be as much a learning process for me as it will be for you, because I have struggled with this “chronic pain”, and I am not ashamed to say that I have felt a healthy amount of self-pity and anger over it. My life has changed dramatically in the last three years, and it’s a struggle trying to see the positive and maintain a joyful outlook on life when I am weighed down by pain so much of the time.
I believe that positive thinking can help in many aspects of our lives. As someone who also struggles with mental illness, and who’s chosen to be off meds for about three years, I work hard on keeping perspective and balance in my life, but I have found that chronic pain cuts through my defenses and my perspective in ways that I was not prepared for. It’s even left me thinking that I might have to reconsider my choice on being medication free, but I truly feel that the cessation of my medication was one of the best decisions I have ever made.
My epiphany about this article came as I scrolling through Facebook and a former co-worker tagged me in a meme about JOY. My co-worker, Lisa, is a cancer survivor. I say that in a less definite way than some, because Lisa is still going through chemotherapy – she was diagnosed with cancer, for the fifth time, fifteen months ago. It had started as breast cancer, but spread and has now progressed to bones and liver – but she is still here. I got her a bangle bracelet that says “F#ck Cancer” because that is her mantra. In working with her for five years, I watched her battle cancer twice, with such ferocity and force of spirit that you would not know her struggle if you did not know her well yourself.
We worked in customer service. She still works there, as an assistant manager for the store, and is beloved by all the customers. Prior to my changing jobs, she had been told that there was no more they could do. Her oncologist said quit working, spend time with your husband and your family (she has no children), and live whatever time you have left. That lasted three weeks before her husband found a different doctor and she decided “F#ck Cancer!” She will never be in remission or “cancer-free” like some people. She has had cancer so many times, and her body is so ravaged by it, that she will always have cancer cells in her body. What her treatment does is maintain those very low numbers so she can live. But Lisa doesn’t just live, she LIVES! She told me on a regular basis that once you are faced with your mortality and you realise that you are on borrowed time, your perspective changes drastically, and she wishes it hadn’t taken cancer to change that perspective for her.
We’ve all heard that, right? Live like today is your last day. But do we really do it? No. We always think we have time, but we don’t – and so I decided maybe, we can learn together how to LIVE, and not just live, even when we’re faced with hardship. There’s definitely a time to cry, to rail against the hand you were dealt in life, but I think it’s how we face it at the end that becomes most telling of who we are inside and exposes what we’re really made of. I think that giving ourselves the motivation and skills to deal with things gracefully and humbly can only benefit us, helping us progress toward that state of Being Here and Being Present, especially during those times when it is most important.