Re: Breathing In and Out/Norma - Pls respond

[Guest guest]

*Hi Norma,*

**

*I really enjoyed the essay you posted (from a friend of yours), entitled

Breathing In and Out. I have a website and I would love permission to post

it on my site. Would you mind contacting your friend and asking her if that

would be okay? If she'd like, I'd love to print her name and give her full

credit. You can both check out my site to be sure it's appropriate -

www.cjhats.com*

**

*Many thanks,*

**

* Ann*

*Chemo Hats: www.cjhats.com*

>

> A friend sent this to me and I think it is wonderful.

>

> Breathing in and Out

>

> Before cancer, many of us go through life pretty

> clueless. I know I did. I worried about things that

> seem trivial now: a petty difference with a co-

> worker, irritation over a spill on the carpet, too

> many things to do and too few hours in the day to do

> them. I spent my days running around and making myself

> crazy over the smallest details.

>

> After my diagnosis and throughout most of my

> treatment, I went back and forth from borderline

> hysteria to resignation and depression.

>

> Then one day, for the first time in many months, I was

> feeling physically strong enough to take on a few

> errands by myself. I went to the post office to buy

> stamps.

>

> As I stood in the long line a little weak in the

> knees, and more than a bit queasy in the stomach I

> began to feel rather proud of myself. I thought I have

> been through so much in the last year. I have been

> sicker than I ever thought a human being could be and

> still be alive, but here I am. I am still standing, I am

> doing things for myself again and, hey, this feels

> pretty good!

>

> Then I noticed that two women ahead of me were

> becoming very agitated and vocal about the long,

> slow-moving line. They began complaining loudly that

> they had better things to do than wait in line at the

> post office all day.

>

> I thought about that for a minute and then asked

> myself, Do I have anything better to do today than what

> I'm doing right this minute? Do I have anything better

> to do than just be alive and grateful? And then the

> answer: Nope.

>

> That's when it happened. I felt myself begin to glow.

> Today I tell people that it was either an epiphany or

> the mother of all hot flashes (what we in the South

> call private summers), but whatever it was, it was

> powerful and life-altering. So I just stood there,

> basking in its warmth, and I slowly began to

> understand some important truths: This moment is all I

> have. And in this moment, there is nothing I really

> have to do except breathe in, breathe out and say

> Thank you!

>

> I wanted to say something to the two women. I wanted

> to ask them if they had any idea how lucky they were

> to be able to stand there in that line, if they knew

> how many people would gladly change places with them,

> if they even had a clue what a priceless gift it is to

> be able to stand in a line and buy stamps all by

> yourself! But of course I didn't.

>

> Many people argue that there is nothing good that

> comes of the cancer experience. I disagree. I believe

> that, if we allow it to, cancer can bring us many

> gifts. One of the gifts of cancer is the gift of

> patience. I no longer sweat the small stuff. I don't

> allow petty differences with co-workers to even

> happen. If there are people who are confrontational or

> negative, I can choose to keep my distance from them.

> A spill on the carpet is laughable. My response to

> most things is, So what? In the grand scheme of

> things, how important is it really? Most of the time,

> the answer is that its not important at all.

>

> Dear God, help me to remember that this moment is all

> that any of us has, whether we are cancer survivors or

> not. Our lives are in Your hands, and every day we are

> alive is a gift filled with new possibilities and

> opportunities. All we have to do is open Your

> " present " . And please help me to remember that there

> is nothing I have to do that is more important than

> breathing in and breathing out and thanking you for

> the fact that I am alive today. Amen

> Norma in N. TX

>

>

>