This Is What Your Heart Really Wants

It’s Not What You Think…

When I received the breast cancer diagnosis, my world imploded. My sister Mary came to mind. She died of a different cancer-leukemia-in the early 80s. She was only 26.

Mary kept a journal during the brief time from her diagnosis to the day she died. It was about 40 days. She had an epiphany during this time. She realized her purpose in life was to love. To love Jesus and spread his love everywhere. She wasn’t a deeply religious person, so this was surprising to me.

She also expressed regret over complaining about trivial matters, like having a picnic rained out. 

Mary also wrote letters to her two young children, expressing her love for them and the fear that she would not see them grow up.

I was nineteen when she passed. Mom sent us copies of Mary’s journal. I felt like it was a sacred text. I took her words to heart and vowed that it would not take a serious illness for me to live my life with purpose and clarity.

Hello, life.

I endeavored to live this way, but uh, yeah. Shit happens. You live life shaped by demands and relationships. Upon reflection, I realize so much of my life has been spent trying to please others. Getting attached to things that I thought would bring me security.

Which brings me to the diagnosis I received. I went through seven months of treatment-double mastectomy and chemotherapy. It was the toughest thing I have ever faced.

This is the part where I should share my epiphany. Ready?

Uh, nothing.  No thunder bolts of clarity. No sunbeams shining down a rose strewn path with a “walk this way” sign. (Oh geesh, now I have Aerosmith running through my head.)

Truth be told, my mind felt too addlepated and frightened to consider the lofty topic of The Purpose of Life.

I came to a deep realization of how short and fragile life is. My gratitude for the simple and mundane deepened. Boring old life stuff-washing dishes, paying bills, getting annoyed at the slow drive thru line at Salad and Go. You ache for shit like this when you’re walking into the Mayo Clinic cancer center.

But I had/still have a mighty battle with fear and anxiety. First the fear of getting through treatment and now the fear of recurrence. I’m learning to handle the fear more effectively, but a fearful mind is not one that contemplates the purpose of life questions. A fearful mind is preoccupied only with self-preservation.

It has only been the past few weeks that I feel like I have tapped into some clarity. Perhaps it’s because treatment is over and my brain has stepped down from hypervigilance mode.

I was so focused on just getting through treatment; I didn’t have the bandwidth to consider what I want my life to look like in the future.

And now it’s time to move forward.

I sold my house and pondered things as I packed. I am a minimalist by nature, so there wasn’t a lot. But still enough. And I struggled with what I’ve seen my organizing clients struggle with-letting go of things because there was a sentimental attachment to it.

I am not a sentimental person, but here I was feeling sentimental. All the memories attached to the pictures on the walls. Memories of 32 years of marriage. Raising kids. All my history. My stories.

Time for a shift in thinking. It is still my history. My successes and sorrows and stories aren’t in STUFF. It’s in my heart, in my life. I’ve tried to grab hold through the stuff but that is not what the heart really wants.

What the heart really wants is to love and be loved. To be connected.

This requires surrender regularly and intentional way. Letting go of sentimental doo-dads, unhealthy relationships, ideas of how you thought life was going to turn out… it ALL gets put on the table.

We can hang on to but we will never feel free. The heart that is clutched around our attachments isn’t a heart free to love or be loved.

This is when clarity comes. It doesn’t take a cancer diagnosis or a divorce or a move across the country.

It takes surrender.

Maybe I have had an epiphany after all. 

Thanks for reading! Consider buying her a bottle of three buck chuck from Trader Joe’s.