Celebrating Cancer...Happy Anniversary!

Yesterday was a bad day. I am, however, making lemonade from lemons. It's time to build a cyclocross bike.

But that is a story for a different day. Today's tale is about a special day.

This day—today—August 6th—is the day I choose to celebrate my cancer experience.

Celebrate...What?

You read it correctly: celebrate my cancer experience. Be patient...I'll get there...

Milestones and Celebrations

A little of Ray's philosophy...

It's better than a photo of childbirth...

Each of our lives has its milestones. Beginning with that whole screaming-into-the-world-all-sightlessly-pink-and-purple-and-slimy birth experience, we mark our time in this life with events of great importance. These should all sound familiar: first day of school, first kiss, first lover, high school graduation, college graduation, first job...you can picture the timeline in your head, with tick marks at the appropriate (and approximate) dates for each.

Annually, we celebrate the truly special milestones: our wedding day, the birth dates of our children, the day we committed to sobriety, our own howling-pink day. These are the days that deserve greater attention. On these days we do more than mark time. We celebrate

In my experience (coughs for dramatic effect) these celebrations have three phases: the oh-my-god-we/I-can't-believe-it's-another-year-already phase, the I-am-in-the-moment-of-the-celebration/anti-celebration phase, and the what-the-future-will-bring phase. They can occur in any order, and they most likely will overlap and crash into one another (with unpredictable consequences). There is no pattern, there is merely completeness; in other words, when all three elements get their due, you have a complete celebration. Eliminate one, and you have diminishment.

Let's look at them:

• Oh-my-god-we/I-can't-believe-it's-another-year-already: This phase surveys the landscape of our experience. It seeks perspective. It contextualizes.
  
  When in this phase we are reflective—even if we don't share it with others (or even with our conscious selves). It's the "I/We got here" moment. "Please be upstanding for me/us!" It's the moment when pride steps in, makes an appearance, and shines like a supernova (or throws grenades, depending on you ego's state at that time).
  
  It's the time of regrets (I've had a few...) and recriminations. If we're not careful, we can get mired in its muck.
  
  



Party! Party! Party!

• I-am-in-the-moment-of-the-celebration/anti-celebration: Here is *here*. It's that silent moment in the middle of the event when you step outside yourself and see yourself in the middle of it all—and let yourself go. It's when you realize that feeling good feels good, and that you can allow yourself to enjoy the feeling. It's savory. It's the moment when that fabulous dessert explodes with flavor, tantalizing your tongue with delicious joy.
  
  It's a time of narcissism, and therin lies the rub. Too much is mental masturbation—empty self-pleasure. Lingering here gives you a hangover of the spirit for which there is no "morning after" cure. Alternatively, "anti-celebration" is that terrible moment when you step outside yourself and...shackle yourself. It's when you declare yourself unworthy of the joyful moment.
  
  



You know this is a serious conversation
because...he's in sepia tone!

• What-the-future-will-bring: This is when we wonder. It's when we cast our gaze forward with an unsure hand. It's an emotional journey that mixes enthusiasm and trepidation, clashes imagination with reality, confronts optimism with pessimism, and gives flight to our audacities and anxieties. All our contradictions have their moment—the dominant ones overshadowing our lesser foibles—releasing themselves in our future visions.
  
  What dreams may come when we free ourselves to wonder? What nightmares, too? You can see the risk. Lingering here is a trap. Do we dream, or do we fantasize? Neal Peart, philosopher and drummer (you may have heard of his band...Rush) expresses it beautifully: "fantasies are futile, self-defeating. But dreams? Dreams are beautiful, life-affirming and powerful.

True Celebrations

You see the challenge. All celebrations mix these elements together. True celebrations, however, possess a beautiful alchemy, where balance is achieved among the contradictions, and each element has its moment in the sunshine of your consciousness. We seldom recognize the challenge for what it is. We see its component parts, but we fail to see them in context. It's a major cause of distress. How many times have you been a part of a celebration that failed to celebrate? What was missing? Where was the imbalance? Who lingered where? Past? Present? Future?

Effing Hades! What About the Cancer Already?

I celebrate my cancer experience—my odyssey—because it broke me. It broke me in so many ways and into so many pieces that I still don't recognize me. I am picking up the pieces, dusting them off, considering them, and either retaining or rejecting. What do I keep? What do I toss?

I am forging a new life from the scraps, building around the core me that remains.

I'm not particularly a Talking Heads fan, but the song "Once in a Lifetime" resonates:

You may ask yourself, where does that highway lead to?
You may ask yourself, am I right, am I wrong?
You may ask yourself, my god, what have I done?
Letting the days go by, let the water hold me down.

The Topic of Cancer

On August 6, 2006 I underwent RPLND surgery. I was turned inside-out.

Literally.

I survived.

I have no desire to let the water hold me down. I am learning to swim again. I am jettisoning those things that held me underwater. But it is a process. Sometimes slow. Sometimes abrupt.

And it is a cause for celebration. A True Celebration: intentional, committed, and aware.

Happy cancer day, self. Carpe diem.