Sinking or Swimming

Sink or swim. That’s what I’ve been saying to myself since my pathology results on Wednesday.

Sink or swim.

The week has been full of small gifts.

A friend moved to Tasmania and reminded me that I taught him about the destructive nature of anger. I released my anger.

A friend from Canberra spoke to me about his generosity towards other people, even when they don’t appreciate it. I felt more generous.

A friend that has reconnected after many years apart reminded me that most people diagnosed with breast cancer DON’T die from it, even people with highly aggressive, grade three, triple negative breast cancer. I remembered the importance of hope.

Someone I don’t know at all reminded me of the advice I’ve so often given other people: There’s some things you cannot change but you can always change how you think about them and THAT changes everything.

A friend in the USA sent me off on an exploration of Brian Andreas’s beautiful work. I remembered the pleasure of simply being alive. I remembered that fragile things are beautiful. Life is precious.  

You can see Brian’s work here:

I wrote, I rested, I ate good food. I managed a modified yoga routine and remembered the words of my very wise yoga teacher: “Breathe. Practice non-violence with your own body.”

I went out into the garden and my husband, not a gardener, joined me. We spent two days together, weeding and pruning. He moved the mulch that was too heavy for me to lift. We rejuvenated the piece of garden I can see from the bedroom window. Every time I look at it I’m reminded how much he loves me.

Slowly, slowly, I came back up again. Sink or swim.

Sometimes it’s not a matter of ‘sink or swim’, sometimes you just need to float for a while.

I feel as if that’s what I’ve been doing since Wednesday.

I never doubt that I’ll start swimming again but it sure helps to have all these people cheering from the shore.

It’s time to start swimming again. Thank you to everyone. I am so fortunate to have all of you in my life.


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