When I was young Christmas Eve was a time of wonderment, and New Years Eve was pure magic. I would force myself to stay awake, all night long was the goal, but back then the definition of all night long didn’t exactly mean midnight. Instead it meant whenever I managed to last until I ended up collapsing in a heap of sleeping child.
There was magic in watching a large ball on a huge stick slowly fall down, and the mystery of fireworks rocketing rough the air were a sight to behold.
In my early twenties the magic changed to spending New Years Eve in the arms of a partner, as though there was something tragic about seeing the year change as a single person.
And then somewhere. Some time it all stopped being of interest to me, it simply no long mattered. The magic, the smoke and the mirrors all seemed so silly. Instead it became a time to reflect, a time to be grateful and appreciate my life. It became a time to remind myself of goals and plans, of loves and losses. An accounting of sorts really I guess.
There is a different kind of magic to this, it is a magic I can hold on to and feel it spark within me and warm me. It is a magic I can easily share with others and it isn’t just to the mark turning of a calendar, but rather can be pulled out and used whenever I feel like it. And there is magic within that too.
I like the magic of being human, the magic of love and new opportunities. I love the mystery of trying different things, going to different places and learning about other people, who really aren’t that much of a mystery because they are human too.
So as the calendar changes, flipping one more digit higher my reflections, appreciations and loves will also grow in number. I’d sooner flip those forward than focus on a number.
A friend recently sent out an email listing all her resolutions for 2014. There is an even 10 of them and the run from little things to large things.
I was curious why she’d email them out to everyone, although I suspected part of the reason might be so we could help her achieve them. Instead her answer was a little different, “it will keep me honest about it because I know others know so I’m hoping that builds determination”.
I don’t remember ever setting a resolution just to tie in with the changing of the year. To me changing is relatively, it’s getting to the point to want to change that is the hard bit. Once you’ve reached the point that says you are ready for the change you don’t need some marker to start or announce that you are aiming for something different. I find that instead you end up going forward and making the change.
If I’m not ready for making a change, or am not committed to do the likelihood of me sticking to it is in the slim to none range. Of course that’s just me and I do know that there are times that the motivation for change have nothing to do with being ready or not and instead everything to do with not liking the consequences to not adhering to said change. (I should point out here that prison is not on one of my must visit and stay places.)
Most of the deep changes in my life have come not at thee ginning of a new year or the ending of an old, it instead rather haphazardly as my circumstances etc change. I suspect this is true for most people, not that some do not make major changes around the beginning do the year.
The stuff that fosters and leads to change aren’t always conveniently available at a year’s turning. And often the very reason for the changes are made of deeper things, than “I want to read/travel more; lose weight” etc. Not that there is anything wrong with these, however it is the motivation behind these desires that kick in and typically do so on their own terms, not always when it suits us.
So once again I shall see the ending of one year and the beginning of a new one without the weight and oppression of making and keeping a resolution, rather I shall enjoy the freedom of not feeling pressure or obligation around a tradition.
It never occurred to me that cancer would come to visit me because of the medication I’m on. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t mentioned as any of the side effects and so at first no one suspected it to be linked.
Long conversations with my doctors and intensive research on my own, I suddenly realized the very meds I am on for a small autoimmune illness called Lupus. And about the time I found this out for myself, my doctor stumbled upon it as well.
Now cancer itself is no easy journey and the same can be said about lupus, but dealing with both of them is akin to living one’s life on an out of control roller coaster, one where the speed is not governed and the tracks have a slight wobble to them.
Not enough for you? Then add to the mix your better half having cancer as well as you have the theme park ride of hades. The trick is to not take it all too seriously; enjoy the good moments and not get too lost in the dark moments as well as finding a way to laugh at it all.
You still aren’t sure? Okay here’s a small example. Beloved is losing hair from chemo, it just happens not to be the hair on the top of his head, instead he has notice a wee thinning of his beard and interestingly he has no hair left on his arms while his legs are showing patchy bald spots. Now if only a woman could have chemo remove unwanted body hair! But as it is, Beloved is starting to find creative ways to work with his facial hair and some of the results are a bit ummm too creative!
We’ve found that laughter does help with any medicine and makes the recovery a bit more pleasant. Sure we have moments where at the time we can’t find the laughter, but looking back a few days later it’s impossible to not laugh as the patchy bald spots on one’s leg!
Sometimes I wish I had paid more attention in Biology classes. I’m not sure if it would have helped us as we face cancer treatment, but at least it would have helped a bit on the learning curve. At least that’s what I tell myself.
The truth is no amount of education would prepare me for this. Sure I’d be familiar with the terms and such, but is anyone ever really ready for the world of cancer?
It’s a horrible, heart-stopping, breath stealing world. The path do treatment is never straight forward and for all the highs there are some awfully deep valleys. And that’s from the patient side of things.
I cannot fathom what it inline from the oncologist’s side of things. Sure sure they are familiar with it, they understand it and are somewhat removed from the impact. But most of them have a heart and care. Most of them ride the peaks with caution and try to be a brake as we gather speed going down into those deep dark valleys.
The nurses and others who help and support, they too are on these crazy rides with us. And all too often it is far too easy to ignore all of this and just focus on he recovery and treatment of us. But without these people where would we be?
So today, and every day, I offer up a heartfelt thanks that cannot ever convey enough how truly grateful I am for these people and all they do.
I bartered, begged and even tried the art of supplication. It was all to no avail. I might have been shouting into,the wind.
Some people recommend doing just that, releasing it out as a means of feeling better. For me it was like tilting at windmills.
How can you reason with illness? It doesn’t fight fair. It sneaks in with mild, almost innocent symptoms. It hides the darkness and seriousness it brings until the time is just right, until it has grown in strength. It teases, looking as though it is going away only to come back stronger.
We seek out those who are well versed in dealing with it, but they cant promise they can’t get rid of it for good. And so we battle with our bodies and our minds, our spirits and souls. We entered always win, but it reminds us of how precious life is.
It calls to us not to waste out lives caught up in silly arguments and petty anger. And above all it reminds us. Itching is fair nor guaranteed.
The truth is, I’m sick and tired of having illness in my life. I want to kick it to the side and stomp it into oblivion, it it doesn’t work that way. So struggle to find a balance of sorts, a type of peace or truce with it while I work to find my energy for the next round. For surely as much as it serves to remind me how fleeting life is, it also serves to remind me that sinle-minded pursuit of the negative type is not good idea.
Still im sick of the battles and struggles, tired of the ground gained only to be lost again. So we hope, with some trepidation mind, that his gains are far greater and cancer’s losses are stacking up. While he is in the trenches fighting I am doing so from a distance and I’m utterly tired of the war, I just want to win it and be done; I cannot imagine how much more the exhaustion must be for him, how hard he wishes for a positive win on his part. And so we wage our war agains cancer together, all the while I know that with him as the ground forces, the toughest battles will be waged by him.
I asked her if she was sad that Christmas was over while she was playing with her new kitchen. She looked up from her complicated routine if stirring and whisking and flipping whatever delicious imaginary concoction she was working so hard at. With a serious look in her eyes the five-year-old girl offered this wisdom: “I’m sad there aren’t more presents, but I’m glad the whole having to be good is done. Being good is hard, thirsty work!”
Making Christmas, or rather getting everything ready for one day, be it Christmas, a wedding or what have you is hard, thirsty work. Unless you do the background work yourself you may not even realize how challenging and energy-draining it is to make that moment seem effortless and magical.
It’s been my experience anything that seems effortless really takes a great deal of effort behind the scenes. That athlete that makes his/her sport seem like second nature had to work to make it second nature. Those people who pull together amazing food and parties in the blink of an eye? Practice and hard work to get to that level.
And the magical part? That’s the hardest because the magic requires a suspension of beliefs for some, an air of mystery takes heavy lifting. Slight of hands are never light nor easy.
So why do we go to this trouble? We do it for love, for creating the moment of whimsy for someone we care about. We do it to offer up a bit of wonderment still, no matter how old a person is. We do it as a way of showing our care and love. And we do it as a means of capturing a little something back even for ourselves.
What magic have you created lately?
It wasn’t an ideal day for a walk a few days ago, but the dog had to go out and, well make the rounds. You know for sniffing the new smells, marking territory and all the rest of the important things dogs must do.
The wind was in our face, the rain fell hard and all in all it was miserable really. Still I didn’t mind it all that much, I mean sure the weather wasn’t great, but I was able to go out and walk and spend some time with the dog. Besides I wasn’t dealing with a typhoon of a hurricane, there wasn’t mass flooding or ice storms. I had no real reason to complain.
Beloved didn’t go for our outing, he said it was to “dreadful and cold” for the walk. He met me at home with hot cocoa and a smile. And again, I was reminded that I had no reason to complain.
There are times though, when it’s too easy to complain: traffic is too busy, the line is slow-moving, the weather is awful, there is a mess the size of Texas in my kitchen and on and on we go. But the truth is, when you get down to it, I really don’t have a reason to complain. I have wonderful people in my life, a decent job, love, a good house and food beyond what I need to live off of. Sure my health isn’t great, but I’m not terminally ill either.
I would be wise, next time Beloved leaves the kitchen looking like a tornado hit it, to not go looking for the Wizard of Oz or hoping for the Grand Canyon to appear for us to stuff the mess in. I would be wise to be thankful for the imp and even the mess he made because it is a mess of excess and a mess done out of love. Yes I’d be wise to remember that, but of course it’s always easier to focus on the stuff that gets under your skin in an annoying way.