Reclaiming my time

Exactly two years ago this week, I was diagnosed with cancer. There's definitely been some melancholy to the last few days, and to be honest, I didn't even realize why I was feeling the way I was until earlier today. It dawned on me what time of year it is, and I pulled out my calendar and scrolled back two years to find the appointment slot filled in with my doctor's name.

Mitch and I talked through what I was feeling tonight, and he asked me the two most important questions of my healing journey so far.

"Does this really still hurt, or does it make it more of who you are meant to be, everyday?" and "Is this scar or a badge of honour?"

To be honest, the first question made me feel like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I have dedicated so much of my time, heart, and spirit to recovery, to healing, to walking towards wholeness again, and to feel triggered but not consumed by the memories of that time is a huge win for me. I am no longer a prisoner to cancer. I can gracefully say, I am no longer a prisoner to my personal trauma.

Mitch then shared with me what I later realized is his super power. He said, 'Sadness doesn't suit me. It's not a useful tool in my life.' 

Why that hit me so hard is that Mitch is the personification of joy. Even when I was sick, he would sit with me in my pain and sorrow, but he was perpetually my light. He reminded me tonight that he knew as soon as I was diagnosed, that I would be fine. His belief in goodness, light, and joy always genuinely seems to prevail. This is rare in the world -- or at least I haven't been witness to it all that often. 

The joy he brings me often dissolves my sadness. Sadness and pain have been huge tools in my life. After experiencing and witnessing different forms of trauma, it was sadness and depression that held me through the worst of it. But it's only through presence, healing, recovery, and coming back to joy that I can now freely begin choosing happiness. It's only recently that I can consistently unleash my joy.

Mitch cautioned me about the nostalgia that may come up about that time in my life, from fighting cancer, to being in New York, and building Dream, Girl -- Mitch cautions me to not stew and ruminate in what was and what I've come through, but to rather make now -- this exact moment in time -- the best possible moment it can be.  

"Why not make now even better, instead of looking back?"

Why not? I am ready to soak in the possibility of a life free of cancer and all it's lingering effects. To reclaim this week in March and make it a time of pure joy.

Thanks for helping me do just that.


P.S. To receive these letters, along with what I'm reading, watching and inspired by each week, sign up for my newsletter here!