Finding Beauty In the Brutal-Cancer Is Brutiful

Cancer amplifies many truths about this life. But most of us are just too busy running in the hamster wheel, paying bills and trying to keep sane when insanity seems to abound.

It’s hardly conducive to personal growth and transformation, much less pondering truths.

Over the years, my thinking has been black/white, either/or, asshole/friend, right/wrong, and so on.

In spiritual circles, it’s called dualistic thinking. Some of my more science-y friends call it binary thinking.

At the foundation of this thinking is the thinking that there are two answers to things. It’s either this or that.

This kind of thinking is very important when raising young children because developmentally, that is what their growing brains can grasp. And it also creates a place of safety for them.

Dualistic thinking in a fully grown adult, however, is another story. You can see this reflected on social media and the ambient anger that seems to permeate day-to-day life.

This is the thinking that drives, “I am right and you are wrong.” That sounds so neat and tidy but it is far from it. It creates conflicts and stalemates. I mean, why discourse with someone who has different views if they are WRONG?

What is truth to one person, is a lie to another. What is right for one person, is wrong for another.

Life is not that cut and dried. It is full of contradictions, “unfairness”, and hurting people.

When we remain in dualistic thinking, it creates a lot of anger and frustration. It’s supposed to be THIS way, DAMMIT!

Cancer has been my graduate level course in a broader way of thinking. And this goes much deeper than merely changing your language from either/or to both/and.

There is a tension between right and wrong, and either or. And somewhere along that continuum lies reality. I almost wrote “truth” but that would be inaccurate. Because if I state truth, it infers there is a lie on the other side of it. Hello more dualistic thinking.

Cancer is the worst, most sucky thing I have ever been through in my 58 years. And this is on top of a lot of other traumas, but it’s also been one of the most amazing, incredible experiences that I’ve ever been through.

It’s brutal. It’s beautiful.

Brutiful.

I’ve written about the pain and fear of breast cancer treatment. It’s no walk in the park.

Now I want to write about the beauty I have found. It has co-existed in the darkest and hardest parts of this journey. But that can be easily missed if I get pissed and lapse into “Why me?” and “Life is UNFAIR, dammit” thinking.

And no, I have not risen above this thinking. At times, I feel hopping mad over this cancer business. And that too is okay. But it is not helpful nor healing to stay in the place.

From the time I got notice of cancer, a new friend, a retired breast cancer navigator nurse, spent well over an hour with me on the phone. She patiently answered my question and offered assurance. She was to be the first of many angels and healers that I would meet.

My daughter, Molly, started a GoFundMe page. As a newly divorced woman, I knew I was facing lots of time off from work, which means no income.

The flood of money that came in was a cause for daily tears of gratitude. Nearly 8,000 dollars. Because I live modestly, this has provided for me since March when active treatment began.

Some donors are folks I don’t even know. Other folks have mailed me checks. More tears.

Then there is the team at Mayo. From the front desk people to the physicians to the nurses and the chaplain, everyone has been a loving, healing presence.

When I think of the training the physicians and nurses go through-sacrificing huge time periods in their lives to become a doctor or nurse-I am humbled. The researchers working behind close lab doors to create and discover more effective ways to treat cancer.

They do this to help humanity. To help me.

Next on my list is the community of women who have gone through this journey. I must pause here because this alone stirs up deep emotions of love and gratitude. (Theresa pauses from writing.)

Okay. These women. A picture came across my feed on FB of a powerful woman. She was fierce, gorgeous…. and boobless. It rocked me to my core.

I messaged her and told her how she encouraged me. I figured I may or may not hear from her. After all, we’re all busy, right?

She more than replied. And invited me to three different Facebook groups, all focused on breast cancer and the choice to go flat after a mastectomy.

I joined the groups and found such a loving, supportive group of women from every different background possible. The ties of breast cancer bind us together. And it is within these ties that I have found such love and encouragement. Dare I even say GOD?

There are women within these groups that send out “Blessing Boxes” for women with upcoming surgery and chemo. They contain homemade pillows that are so helpful after surgery. The box contains other goodies too….most of the items are handmade by a team of volunteers. They are free for the asking.

Then I found another angel who makes drain shirts for women. What the hell is that, you say? I never thought you’d asked. When you get your mastectomy, the place drain tubes, sometimes up to four. This is to help with the healing process, draining blood and lymph away from where there were once boobs. Many women said it was the worst part of recovery and I would agree.

A pocketed drain shirt eases this discomfort significantly.

Breast cancer survivors have reached out to me via email, text or Facebook. They have offered love and support, a listening ear and an invitation to ask questions.

Others have mailed me items. One woman sent me the gloves and cooling socks to use for chemo. Another sent me some of the THC gummies that she couldn’t use. Others have sent me books.

I wish everyone could feel the level of love and connection this journey has brought…. but without the cancer diagnosis.

I don’t know if that is possible, though. It is in the deepest pain and the darkest of hours that the light is brightest and the comfort profound.

My teacher, Richard Rohr, says great love and great suffering are intertwined.

Cancer (or any suffering) opens up a whole new world if we allow ourselves to look deeper.

And to accept that life is truly brutiful.

Theresa Winn is a certified life coach and spiritual director. If you like her scribblings, please clap, share and or subscribe. Her website is www.theresawinn.com