Freedom

I did a quick Internet search of the most common feelings one feels when diagnosed with terminal cancer. I was trying to find out if I am the only one who feels just the slightest bit of relief. Apparently, I am.

A few years ago, I had a tiny, little identity crisis of sorts. I was in my late 30s, unmarried, no kids. It was the perfect setup for a life of freedom, but I was starting to panic because I wasn’t taking advantage of that freedom at all. I should be traveling the world or something, I thought, but instead I had been living in boring Dallas for seven years, just working and going to school, all the typical stuff. Suddenly I found myself launching a new school with the idea of seeing it through until our first class reached 8^th grade – 6 more years (gasp!). Life was really good, but I knew I had jumped onto a hamster wheel that I wasn’t going to be able to jump off anytime soon.

The school opened, and I am surrounded every single day by a staff of powerful, dynamic women who inspire me to do and be better. I have 460 girls whose faces light up when they see me in the hallway, who give the best hugs, who can’t wait to tell me all of the random things. I work with the most incredible leaders, who are among my best friends and a constant source of love and laughter. My niece and nephew live just up the highway, and watching them grow up and forming bonds with them is simply incredible. These are the soul-boosting, spirit-lifting things that bring so much joy to my life.

But, still, life is sort of a trap. For every soul-boosting moment, there is a soul-sucking one – bills and deadlines and exhaustion and conflict and social media and politics and the ever-ticking of time and on and on and on. Life lures you in with all of the shiny things (see previous paragraph), and then forces you through the slog day in and day out. It is wonderful and horrible all at the same time.

Then I found out I have cancer, and my first thought was, “Finally, now is my chance to get off the hamster wheel and make the most of life.” I spent my entire day yesterday communicating with people that I love and admire, telling them just how much I love and admire them. Nothing but soul-boosting. I have heard that we should all “live like we are dying,” but it doesn’t really work like that. You can’t live like you are dying if you aren’t actually dying.

Cancer is scary, and I don’t know what is going to happen next, but rather than see in it impending death and doom, I see the rare opportunity for life – pure, unencumbered life, even if only for a short time. And when I find some treatment that works, I’ll happily jump back on the wheel, spinning, spinning, spinning, but with my soul filled all the way to the top.