Leanna's Winding Path

19 December 2010 – Facing my Shadow (one of them anyway)

I’ve always liked to daydream about what I’m going to do with my life.  How I’m going to make the world a better place.  How will I perfect who I am so that I am worthy of all that I want or need to accomplish?

I think it’s normal to have these daydreams.  True, it’s not living in the now, but it’s fun, setting goals and trying for them and even sometimes reaching them.  For me, there is always an excitement in the air surrounding this concept.  What, you mean life could be even better?!?

My confession is that I’ve become leery of setting up long-term goals.  The fear of death has tempered my ambition.  I’m not trying to be morbid.  This is just what has happened through the process of facing my mortality.

I fear long-term commitment that:

1. I may not be able to follow through or
2. would leave Herb (or anyone else I care about) holding the bag, struggling to finish something I started.

Some examples that this fear applies to:

• Having a child.
• Going back to school.
• Buying a house.
• Investing in a definite career path
• Helping my family to the degree I think I should.
• Starting a business.
• Following my dreams, because I usually dream big.

One: If it’s something I wouldn’t follow through on or take full advantage of, and it’s temporarily painful (i.e. going back to school to get a PhD), why put myself through the struggle, when I can live out whatever days I have mostly enjoying myself?  This, honestly is not that bad.  I’m pretty happy in life, usually enjoying myself moment to moment.

Two: If following my dreams leaves anyone else (but I’m especially thinking of Herb here) with big commitments that they might not have made, trusting that I will always be here to share the burden, I just seize up with fear and avoidance.  I think this is the hardest part for me to face.  Why?  Because it makes me think of death.  It makes me afraid of dying.  It makes me fear cancer.  It makes me fear my body.  It’s got all this negative crap tied in it.  Crap that I do not like to hold on to.  A shadow in my mind that I’d prefer would not be there.  Staying positive is one way I I’ve dealt with this illness, but when I start thinking about the future, I get scared.  I believe that this fear is not helpful to my healing process.  I want to shed it, but I don’t know how.  I try to focus on the fact that none of us know how long we have.  We can only do the best we can with this life in this moment.  I try to shed the illusion that cancer could really ever kill me.  I am well.  I am well.  But the fear still prevents me from making certain decisions.

I’m sorry if you find weakness in this confession.  I know that most people struggle with long-term planning.  I’m not necessarily special in this case.  But it is something I’ve been struggling with lately, and I felt compelled to share.  I do not struggle with it all the time.  My tactics include: avoidance of the heavy stuff, positive thinking, a lust for adventure and life, connections with people I love, working in the now, and short-term, super fun plans, and long-term, this is pipe dream stuff, it doesn’t matter if I fail.  These concepts and activities keep me grounded and loving life.

So what do I do instead:

I make awesome short-term goals: welding class, art projects, exercise more, volunteer more, cook better, share reiki, have real connections with friends, decorating our new place, go to Burning Man, do something exciting whenever the opportunity arises, invest time and heart in my community, share an awesome life with Herb, try to do well in my day job, blog, become a better gift giver and thank you note writer, rest, and get well.  These are great things activities to focus on and I would call my quality of life very high.    And until I’m ready, I’ll just continue to avoid the more potentially painful decisions.

Thank you for reading.  I hope you are not sad.  I feel much better having written this confession.  Thank you for helping me to carry the burden.  With it spread out among all of you who care for me, the burden becomes less and my love for life becomes more.  Thank you for your help in bringing me peace, just by the simple act of reading and not judging me too harshly.

Be well, and I will be too.