Meditation part 2

I was allowed to sleep in this morning; whether that was due to the rain (so nobody was on the roof disturbing the dictator) or he’d tired himself out playing until almost 1:30am I’m not sure, but I had permission to sleep!  I carried out my role as a dog bed for a large part of the day, but at least I managed to get some rest. Happily, Don also got several unbroken hours of sleep and his pain was less today, so that was also good.  A good night’s sleep is such a blessing, isn’t it?  I hope that we can both get another good rest tonight!

So, to continue from yesterday’s post… the Archbishop was speaking about the first reading, which was taken from Jeremiah 31; it’s from the Book of Consolation (feel free to look it up, it’s an exercise for students)  He said that cancer is a gift, as the person who has that diagnosis knows that their time is limited.  It allows us — I’m placing myself in this, as I am one of this group — to prepare for the end, and to prioritize the things that are most important.  If, he continues, you use the time when you know that your life is ending to look back on your life, several things happen.  The first time, you see all the mistakes and errors that you made.  You can make amends for these, and let them return to the past where they belong.

I’d have to agree with this; because since my diagnosis I’ve had time to reflect on my life and my choices. There are some that I regret, some that I can amend and some of which I’m pleased.  There have been days when I relived things I did, and felt wracked by guilt for not being kinder or gentler or… well, the self-flagellation happened, is the short version.  As His Grace commented, these are things you confess and atone for and leave them in the past.  I’ve done that, to a large extent.  I sometimes have struggles in reconciling my dreams with reality and it’s HARD to admit that at my age there are so many things that I cannot do, and things that I’d like to do but will never be able to accomplish!  So — my doctor and Don will corroborate this — when I had to stop working, the first thing I wanted to do was to travel, and I spent a lovely 3 weeks in Europe reconnecting with friends.  My doctor expressed concern about my plans, but we were all ecstatic when I returned to Canada.  Honestly, I wouldn’t have taken that trip if it wasn’t for having cancer and facing a shortened lifespan.  I’d have delayed it, citing costs and work deadlines and every other excuse under the sun, but when my attention was focussed on my quality of life, I tossed them aside like the dross they are, and did it.  (I have plans to return when this pandemic clears up somewhat.)

The second thing that happens is that when you can reconcile your past — and atone for your sins and failings — is that you can look back on your life and see all the moments of gratitude and the miracles that have happened.  What my other doctor calls, “flashes of humanity,” where we can recognize all the people who have walked with us through hard times, who have shown us love and caring when we didn’t expect it.  There is grace around us, and we often don’t notice it at the time, but on reflection we can see the hundreds of times it happens per day, starting with waking up, and continuing until we fall asleep.  (Like when the monster curls up for his nighttime cuddles!)  I again cite my overwhelming gratitude for my family doctor in Trinidad who had made my initial cancer diagnosis.  I don’t like to think of where I’d be had it not been for him.  I’m also very thankful for people like the woman who was my wheelchair attendant when I headed home after my big surgery.  She’d been told that I was a cancer patient, and she went out of her way to ensure that I was well cared for and comfortable as she navigated me through Pearson airport.  She gave me a little “angel coin” and her blessing before helping me to my seat (and all I had in exchange was a box of handmade chocolates.)  I think that this blog has demonstrated that I do my best to be grateful for life and the moments like that that demonstrate that the milk of human kindness still flows and is sweet.  There’s enough bad news in the world that it’s easy to overlook, but there are many instances of love and kindness sparkling around us.  This pass of gratitude shows that there is a truth hidden in plain sight — that God has loved us and cared for us even when we didn’t recognize it, or when we gave in to despair.  There are so many moments of love and grace that we see when we look with eyes of gratitude that it’s awe inspiring!  This pass puts an end to us thinking of ourselves as victims and creates a foundation for living in which we try to reflect all the goodness, beauty and love that’s in the world.

There’s more, and we’ll come back to this again, I promise.  But right now I’m being butted and my iPad is in danger, so I need to stop.  It’s also a good point to reflect on what’s been said so far — I look forward to your comments on this, truly.  Even if you think that I’m off balance, I want to hear what you think.  I’ll finish the reflections and my other thoughts and we can have a more robust discussion.  Good night!