There are days that my heart still aches for a different time, days when I remember what it’s like to be so absorbed in a moment that there’s nothing else you can see around you. Moments when I could melt from the heat raging inside of me, of a fire burning so strongly it fills my soul. A warmth like a kiss of sunlight on my skin, a breath so deep and slow and full that my eyes close and I just inhale deeply, and feel my chest rise. I remember a time before cancer when I could get lost in my own thoughts and hide from the world. I remember when flying made me feel like this. There are times when I want to remember, but other times when I think it’s best not to dwell on it too long.
As much as I want to let myself go and be filled with the joy of those moments, sometimes I think it’s best not to for fear of losing something else in my life. Over the past few months, in addition to my breast cancer battle, I’ve lost my uncle, my brother and most recently my mother-in-law. It’s hard to find joy sometimes when so much sadness keeps rolling in.
When I thought that I’d never fly again, all I wanted to do was run away. I still have days that I just want to run. There’s something inside of me lately that I can’t explain, something that makes me want to pack a backpack and just start walking with no where in particular to go. I want to sleep under the stars and stare up at the moon. I want to experience the beauty of the world around me, get lost in a forest, sleep in a field, listen to the cicadas sing me to sleep. I want to find myself again.
I feel like I a lost a big part of me when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. I can’t really explain it, it’s just something that I feel and I can’t explain this unbelievable urge that I have to to just pick up and go.
I started watching Tracks on Netflix recently, but I think I could relate more to The Way with Martin Sheen and the trek he made for his son on a pilgrimage. It’s more about just walking and maybe along the way finding something that was missing inside me, or something that’s gone missing since I got cancer. It’s not that I have anything to prove. I just long for something more. Like I said, it’s not something I can explain, I just feel it.
It’s feels like someone calling out to me, trying to urge me in a different direction. It’s like I can’t hear for the noise around me and I need to get outside, lost somewhere that it’s quiet so that I can hear what I’m supposed to hear. Whatever that is I don’t know, but it’s what’s happening in me and from time to time, I just sit outside and stare up at the moon on a clear night and I try to shut out the world around me and just be still and listen.
I long to fly again, and I believe I’m getting closer to that happening. I wait for now, a bit impatiently, but still hopeful that the outcome will be positive. Sometimes I want to scream because I’m afraid, but sometimes I just know that I’ll be back behind the controls soon. This journey hasn’t been easy, but if it was easy, then every body would be doing it, right? Some days I feel like someone is saying to me, “How badly do you want this? How badly do you want to fly?” It’s almost like I’m having to prove that I want it more than anything else.
The saying is that nothing worth having ever came easy. Well, nothing you really want comes without work, effort, sweat and tears. It’s been a compliation of emotions indeed, excitement, frustration, elation, tears, joy, sadness and now most of all, hopeful. It’s the only thing left to cling to and without it, I’d be lost for sure.
My heart does still ache for a different time, a different place, a time before cancer, but I’m also anxious to see where this journey is going to lead me as I come through this valley and start a new. How can I not be more determined, more focused, more energetic?
Bring it on!!!
“Even the darkest night will end and the sun will rise.” Victor Hugo, Les Miserables