This story was originally published on HerAfter.com, a website for women that shares inspiring articles on self-improvement and advice on becoming your best. You can read the original here.
A few hours after my parents told me that I had cancer, I went to the movies.
It sounds strange, but I was 17, and all I could do was keep cancer from taking over my life. That effort would start with keeping it from ruining my afternoon. I had plans. To live, in fact, and I was going to go through with them. Naivety is such a blessing when it offers such unfounded courage.
So this was my 17-year-old logic for why I had no business sitting at home and crying about cancer when the world was waiting. A bright, bold world that I had known I wanted to be part of, and in the light of new risks, I wanted it even more. You can read the full story of my diagnosis here, but for now, let us digest these strange circumstances with open eyes:
First, that the power the mind has to control our mood is unlimited. We forget this when we're confronted with priorities, stress, time constraints. But if you can tell a clueless 17 year old that her life is in danger, and she refuses to be scared, then I'm quite certain the possibilities for you are endless.
Second, that in these little moments of clarity, when all that truly matters becomes glaringly apparent, and a basis for our most natural and self-aware intentions come to light, we should show a little gratitude. We should be grateful that we have the foresight to remember what truly matters, especially in the face of great adversity. In this story, my clarity continued through the afternoon...
Standing in the mall downtown waiting for the show, I found myself in the center of the theater complex. People bustled from one side to the other, one store to the next. It was Christmas time, and so even more busy and chaotic than usual. Reality might have well been just a portrait in motion: just in front of me, dreamily, and not quite touchable. I stood, feet planted in the marble lobby of this massive building, words and energies swirling around like water colors, moving in currents in every direction. Everyone had wishes on their lips, and wants on their lists, a concern for everyone they loved attached to their wallets. But I couldn't make out a single thing. It wasn't that the room spun around me, but still I became the center of it. Or maybe centered by it, the room and the world all around me in every direction.
Source: Mantras for Happiness Ecourse
This was the second truly profound moment of stillness -- the first being while my parents told me the diagnosis, and I realized I could interject with "No, I'm not going to be scared." Those little pockets of silence, the energy vibrating in pulses through your bones. The mind unattached and determined.
I know that you know the feeling. It's waiting just at the moment when your tears take a pause. Or just after you've jumped into the lake, free floating just under the surface, and all stands still right before you come gasping up for air. Or right after the words "it's over" have left his mouth, and you're not sure what to say, now that you've heard the words you were most afraid to hear...
Have you noticed that little pause? That little quiet moment that the universe gives you, like a hush across all the world. When you can see, even within the deepest pain, that the world still continues to spin around you, but you're given a moment of total stillness...
This is what 17-year-old me was realizing, brave and hopeful. All a person can do is realize your physical presence, from head to do, and all the space around you that extends endlessly in every direction. Don't worry about the past, don't fret about the future. For now, just stand still, and breathe deeply, because THAT is your moment to choose.
In my moment, I'm just a girl, a girl who's very sick, but a girl who's right here right now, and is certain of what she'll attempt to do. Though all this time I thought I understood everything about the world in a manageable way, but in truth all I am is a single entity. Really, I am just standing, pulsating, watching the water colors fly by, and thankfully the world is giving just a brief break in the chaos to help me look outward... Oh what a gift it truly is.
These still moments are just proof life's endless love for us. A quiet little pocket in which we're given the power to choose any one direction: fear, anger, hope, bravery, forgiveness, love. These little moments that we experience all alone, whether painful or joyful, are gifts that remind us the power we have to write our life's story. And of the moment we are living in, a moment always in motion.
So much of our time and energy is absorbed with reaching for what we want to be, or fleeing from what we hope we aren't. Whenever I'm online pinning for inspiration, I can see it. All the positive messages emblazoned on mugs and t-shirts and Instagram photos. All these words to remind us to work hard and keep focused, and how capable we are of getting to where we want to be! Oh if only it were as easy as a mug on our desk to make us a hero of our own lives!
But silence speaks the truth. It so softly whispers of our power to choose our mood, our action and our reaction. When we listen, listen listen... sometimes only because we're begging the moment to move faster and end already, but it doesn't... We realize this moment: Here we are. Right here right now, reading this, sharing my story with yours. And all the happy mug messages of "she believed she could and she did" don't make any sense anymore. Because all "now" can say to us is "there she is." And all we can say back is "okay here, right now, that is where I'll start from..."
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It's ever a journey onward, whether facing backwards or forward. The moment is always moving. But when you get the gift of sudden stillness, or better yet if you can train yourself to stop, take a look around, and put yourself at center again, you'll open your eyes and hearts to much more than you ever thought possible...
Embrace your power to choose your mood
in three simple steps:
- STOP
Take a breath in. Freeze the thoughts that are coming in -- the fears, the anxieties, the worries, the excitements. Just stop and be still and let the breath be your focus.
- LOOK AROUND
What is really happening right now? Not the fears of what you think might happen, not the worries about the future. What's really happening? Regardless of the fight you're in or the situation you're trying to solve, what is really tangible here, now, with you?
- LISTEN
What does your heart say? What feels right? What is the reaction your highest self would offer? Give your trust to the wisdom of life, and stop trying to over-plan what happens next too much. Have faith that the answers are presenting themselves even as you try to invent them, and let yourself be a channel for whatever life might have in store for you...
And, most sobering of all, please ask yourself:
The movie I went to see, by the way, was The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou. A shout out to you Wes, you've been there with me through some tough times. Nothing but love for you.
Rachael Yahne is an award winning blogger, writer and cancer survivor. After years in the fashion industry, she now writes lifestyle articles about purpose, passion, well-being and asking life's biggest questions. You can read more of her work at HerAfter.com
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