So my lovely man has this malignant tumour in his eye, and after waiting long enough that we could have grown a very slow vegetable garden, we’re leaving for Toronto this morning so that he can have his eye removed.
People say, oh, how do you do it, is he devastated, i can’t imagine how that feels, etc., etc.
Truth is it feels like regular life, but with the colour turned up a bit. By that, i mean that this is a larger obstacle than usual (than boredom, than money, than career choices, than finding my way around in Bangkok), but it’s still an obstacle. An unexpected thwack in the head. And what matters, what comes in handy, is the skills we’ve already developed to deal with thwacks in the head.
On good days (and most of them are good), we focus on what matters. Do we know what makes us happiest and what matters most to us? Do we know how to listen to our hearts rather than our heads? Can we really listen to each other in this relationship? Can we act from love rather than from fear?
All the questions are the same. Which makes me want to suggest that we’re wise to know ourselves as well as we can and to practice being here, now. This practice is the way through boredom or Bangkok. It’s the way through every single day of regular life. The same practice is the way when it’s cancer, life, and death.
Life is big. Sometimes bigger than i’d like. Not for a second does that change the fact that Love wins, and that my greatest task, no matter how big life gets, is to remember that.