Invitation
December 5th, 2011
I haven’t been blogging as much lately. On my facebook page and on twitter, I have continued my work as a curator of cancer stories, focusing on social and emotional issues in particular. My own cancer treatment has happily taken a backseat to my very full life, but I enjoy monitoring the internet for information and insights, and keeping up with the wonderful people I have met via social media.
These relationships are rewarding. They help me harvest the wisdom of my experience and share it with those who are earlier on. They allow me to learn from others whose experiences differ from my own, putting my own in perspective and helping me better understand.
But mostly, we lend each other support. We celebrate good news and send comfort with the bad. It takes time, yes. But it is time well spent.
Why do we, who are finished with the Big Treatment, want –– or even need –– to take time to pause and notice? What does it mean to let in the sad, happy, beautiful, heartbreaking, and absurd parts of of our friends’ situations? Why not just move on?
I read this poem last night and found it helpful in explaining.
Invitation
by Mary Oliver
Oh do you have time
to linger
for just a little while
out of your busy
and very important day
for the goldfinches
that have gathered
in a field of thistles
for a musical battle,
to see who can sing
the highest note,
or the lowest,
or the most expressive of mirth,
or the most tender?
their strong, blunt beaks
drink the air
as they strive
melodiously
not for your sake
and not for mine
and not for the sake of winning
but for sheet delight and gratitude ––
believe us, they say,
it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in this broken world.
I beg of you,
do not walk by
without pausing
to attend to this
rather ridiculous performance.
It could mean something.
It would mean everything.
It could be what Rilke meant, when he wrote:
You must change your life.
This entry was posted on Monday, December 5th, 2011 at 10:04 am and is filed under Survivorship. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.
“Just to be alive on this fresh morning.”
Amen. Thank you, Lani:)
jms
always, jody. xo
Lani,
Thank you for being part of my world and for letting me share yours. Why do we feel the need to stay connected? When active tx is over, I think many of us are adrift. We are so accustomed to having our lives dictated by doctor appts, chemo schedules, follow ups, blood work and whateverthehellelse that it is bizarre to actually have time on our hands. For me, fear creeps in. Active tx allowed me to let someone else control my bc. Now, my body is back in control and I’m fearful of that rogue cell, lurking and waiting to jump out like a ghost on Halloween. GOTCHA. Staying with you, with all of the “yous” who “get it” helps get me through each day…
Sending love to you,
AnneMarie
Love, love, love AnneMarie. Thanks for being there for me. xo
What a perfect and beautiful and profound and resonant poem, CB. Thank you for sharing it.
glad you liked it, amazon… you are definitely are one of the people i had in mind.
We stay connected I think because cancer changes our lives. Life will never be the same. We may get put back together and look like our old selves, but for me only others who have had their bodies and lives interrupted and ravaged by cancer can understand that we will NEVER take health for granted again and we must appreciate, be grateful for, and mindful of every moment life gives us.
thanks
Blanche
well said. thank you, blanche.
Lani,
This is simply wonderful. I love Mary Oliver any time and this poem is perfect. Like you, my blogging has slipped a bit–from weekly to every other week–my Twitter/FB time have also slipped–but I don’t want to “walk by without pausing.”
Lovely. Thank you.
always glad when we catch each other in the same pause, jackie.
You asked, “What does it mean to let in the sad, happy, beautiful, heartbreaking, and absurd parts of of our friends’ situations?” Well, to me, it means everything. Thanks for sharing the beautiful poem and your thoughts as well.
me too, nancy. i am glad to share these things with you.
Lani,
I think most of us reach the point when it’s time to move on and leave breast cancer behind us, but we can’t. Breast cancer’s not like pneumonia or an appendicitis that has a beginning and an end. Breast cancer imprints itself forever on our mind and our bodies, and our post treatment “health” is not something we’ll ever take for granted, nor will we leave behind those we met on the journey.
XOXOXO,
Brenda
so true, brenda. i hope your journey is going well. xo
What does it mean to let in the sad, happy, beautiful, heartbreaking, and absurd parts of of our friends? The ultimate in recognizing our humanity. Thank you, Dear Lani! — Gayle
You know, Gayle. I know you know. xo
Lani-
Your story and your courage has clearly inspired so many people in the world. It is a unique gift that you have. Being with others in this journey is extremely powerful. At Cancer Treatment Centers of America we also try to come together to laugh often and believe it is a great part of the healing process. Please check it out if you are interested in learning more! http://www.cancercenter.com/complementary-alternative-medicine/laughter-therapy.cfm
Thanks for your support to the cancer community!
-Your Friend from Cancer Treatment Centers of America, Molly
Thanks, Molly. <3
LOVE this poem. Thanks. I’m starting chemo tomorrow, and pretty words make me feel better.
I was diagnosed in October 2011 and came across your blog last week. I’ve been reading every chance I get. Thanks for your honesty and good writing.
I’m preparing a blog post that gives a shout out to good blogs like yours. It is so helpful for new kids like me to read real, honest, and often inspiring thoughts. May I post a link to your blog?
Good luck Kendra. I will be thinking of you. You can be one of the birdies I check in on. XO