In the last two weeks, I think I’ve cried enough to last me six months. It is true that the body can only handle so much stress and trauma, emotionally or physically, before it breaks down. I am broken, but only slightly. Enough to be rebuilt and hopefully this time much stronger. Or wait? Maybe I don’t want to be stronger, I just want to be more full of love. And as I get loving advice from my support system around me, I see even more clearly that maybe I’ve been too strong for too long and the shield is thick. Granted, the shield is thick with much passion and care for the outside world, but my shield is blocking my vision. Lately, with deep pressure in my professional life and sadness in my personal life, the tears are clearing a path to seeing in a new light.
A dear friend, too young to have terminal cancer, is facing the harshest throws from the demon of stomach cancer. It is quite likely that the demon will soon suck her in, ending her positive, bright, and optimistic life on Earth. Having to accept the tragedies of life such as these unexplainable occurrences makes me not want to face another day, read another news story, build another meaningful relationship, or care so much I drive myself crazy. It makes you question what is really worth it? And when the goin’ gets tough, I believe the answer seems to be NO. But ultimately, after the tears and grief and hopelessness fade, the answer begins to evolve into YES…a grateful look at existence. But what is actually ‘really worth it’ starts to narrow and the unnecessary habits and worries of life insignificantly drop off.
So the one outlook that death and heartbreak can positively bring is a more enhanced version of how you want to live out your truth, your destiny, your happiness. And so a new day indeed becomes a gift only when we’re ready to release anger, reframe our attitude, and adopt more love to overcome the tragedy. Even in my daily life, my own breakups and heartbreaks feel like tragedy, although on a minimal level compared to death. And I guess this is an example of the different stages of life; everything is relative. And yet the growth can come by recognizing that my own breakups and heartbreaks aren’t death, therefore, making it temporary. Death is permanent, a breakup or heartbreak is not. Our mind can make it permanent, but that is a facade. The tears still mean we’re alive and learning and growing.
Cancer is not fair; it’s a horrible beast of pain that is exploiting the human population (and other species, too). These darkest and most difficult moments of life also illuminate the brightest and happiest moments…so is it worth it? Would you continue wanting to live if you knew you were going to get cancer? Would a new day seem worth the pain? We all struggle to make it through day to day and it’s important to remember that we don’t know everyone’s story. Maybe the person next to you on the bus or at the cafe is facing a similar heartbreak or an even deeper tragedy than we’ve ever faced. Keeping that in mind, that alters my outlook on relating with others. How about you? So as the crying hopefully dissipates a bit, rather than being stronger and more aggressive, I would like to maintain a balanced strength, enough to carry more love with an open heart. Because the days are truly precious and extremely temporary!