a love letter

​Dear cancer,

I love you.
 
I know I didn’t roll out the red carpet for you or mix you a fancy welcome cocktail but to be fair, you took me by surprise and I was in a lot of pain.
 
You are a visitor I wasn’t expecting. A visitor that required me to drop everything and pay attention to you. You are a tad needy. But I love you.
 
You are me and I am you so how could I not love you?
 
I know it’s common language to want to “fight” you or use the "F" word like it’s your first name but, why would I want a war going on in my body? Full disclosure, I may have sworn at you but I realize, I shouldn’t tell a visitor (invited or not) to F-off. Sorry about that. If there is anything to learn from the current state of affairs in the world, it is that fighting isn’t helpful nor productive. It’s destructive. It causes heartache and pain. And death. Why would I want that in my body? I don’t. Love on the other hand creates happiness, peace and healing. I’ll take a generous helping of that please!
 
So, while you are visiting, I will try to be open to the lessons you are here to teach me and the opportunities you put in my path. I know that lessons often reveal themselves with the passing of time so I’m sure I don’t have the full picture yet. But as I restore balance, I am trying to live in the moment and love every bit of myself.
 
I have learned that the true joys in life, the ones that stick with me and settle in my heart, are the little things like – the big fluffy snowflakes tickling my face; watching a winter storm and pretending I live in a snow globe; cheering until my throat hurts at a ringette game;  hand stitching a quilt; enjoying a tea with family at a kitschy small town café; driving on my own and singing my heart out to ‘80’s classics. Even getting downstairs to do my own laundry is a blessing. I truly believe the spirit of gratitude will flow and attract even more things to be grateful for.

Ok, now I’m getting a bit too mushy and this is becoming reminiscent of a teenage love letter or a Hallmark holiday movie. Even though I do love you cancer, you are welcome to pack up your little suitcase and leave any time. Sometimes visitors do overstay their welcome. No hard feelings.
​
Yours truly (but not forever),
​M

I shared these thoughts with a group I am part of and one of the members pointed me to a poem by Rumi called  The Guest House. I'll share it below. 

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

Jalaluddin Rumifrom Rumi: Selected Poems, trans Coleman Barks with John Moynce, A. J. Arberry, Reynold Nicholson (Penguin Books, 2004)