This will sound really strange and morbid to some. Some may also think that I'm sick in the head for even having these types of thoughts. Or some may be concerned and think that I may be disturbed and need psychological or psychiatric counseling.
But some may be interested to know that there is someone like them!
Anyway, what I want to talk about is how I was fascinated about my own death when I was a child. I clearly remember "acting" out my own death scene... you know, when you gasp for breath, the sight blurring (I kind of get the blurred effect when I keep my eyes half open... haha) and then the climax of saying your last words, your final goodbyes and my imagination of how they impact the people i "leave" behind... then the final breath and the dropping of my head now motionless on the pillow. From my recollection, I had different death scenes and every one of them were equally dramatic. At least that was what I envisioned my death to be... at that time. I was probably in my early teens when I became fascinated by my own death "scenes".
This stage came off and on throughout my younger life. Perhaps it was a way for me to escape from the struggles I had as a child and teenager. Perhaps it was triggered by the back to back soap operas and chick flick movies I used to be crazy about. Perhaps it was an effort on my part to see for myself if I can act. ( I know I can be impressively convincing. Then again, I am judging my own talent here. haha) For whatever reason I engaged in it, it was also uneventfully just stopped from my regular activities, only for the thought to crop up again later on.
As fascinated I was it seemed with my own death, when my father passed away, which was the real direct death in my family, I was stunned. My dying, it seemed, was a lot easier to deal with than feeling the passing of someone you love. The ideas I had when I was "role playing or acting" out my death, was so dramatic ... not in a morbid or draining way. I role played it that was emotionally captivating and self-serving of course. Meaning, in the end, the protagonist, (ehem- myself of course!), after all the struggles and challenges of proving myself, was much loved and "my death" will positively impact other people's lives - hopefully. Well, that was what I envisioned it to be when I was growing up. Blame it on the chick flicks and soap operas I used to watch, but that was off and on, part of my imaginations. So anyway, the imaginations faded as I grew older. And like I said, when my father passed away, I realized that death is a serious matter that evoked serious emotions and decisions. Needless to say, I was devastated and extremely sad to lose him. It was the saddest day of my life.
2 years ago, at 42, I went for my annual mammogram. While all my previous mammograms were clear, 2 years ago they told me I had 4 (take note, 4 not 3 but 4!) growths in my right breast. They were small cysts and were not felt when you do a physical breast exam. After pressing and squeezing my breasts, the technician, who was very gentle, looked at the "photos" to make sure she had clear shots. I went home without thinking much about it. I feel my breasts and there are no lumps. I am clear. After several weeks, my doctor phones and tells me I need to come see her regarding my mammogram. That was when a series of tests was ordered. Checking and counter checking it. They will not confirm that it is cancer (what else is there to fear, right?) but they would not also say that it isn't! When my doctor discussed the possibilities to me, for the first time in my life, I realized that death, my death is real and may happen any time soon. Intellectually, I knew I was scared, of death exactly, I'm not sure... Emotionally, I thought about my husband and my 2 boys. How I love them and how they love me. And for the first time after being faced with the possibility of my real death, I cried with my husband. I cried because I am going to miss being with them physically. I cried because I was not sure whether I can fight it, or whether I should fight it. I cried because I don't know what my death really meant to me. I had not thought about how I lived my life well enough to die and go to heaven and facing the reality of my death was, well, like a pail of cold water splashed on you.
Was my life well lived? Did I love enough? Did I give enough? Was I thankful enough? Can I still try to forgive and be forgiven?
And so, the process of finding out what those 4 small cysts were, were the longest period of time I had to wait with baited breath. Until recently, my last check-up now, "somewhat" confirmed that it was not cancer, or at least, all the tests that I was relegated to do, did not indicate that it was cancer but still recommended continuous tests to completely rule it out...
Anyway, it is not cancer and I claim from God that it is not!
The 4 small cysts were reminders that we are temporary beings. That we belong to God. That we should take care of our bodies, minds and spirits to be worthy of heaven and eternal happiness. It reminded me of my imagination of being led by angels to the gates of heaven, and while I take this very very seriously, I also know in my heart, that it is inevitable. That death while morbid, sad and devastating, is the only way to get to heaven.
Do I welcome it? No. Not now and not like how foolish I was to be fascinated by it when I was young. Am I afraid of dying? Yes, because I am not sure I am ready to leave my loving husband and my 2 boys and all the friends and family that I love and who love me back. As well, I am afraid because I am not sure if I lived my life according to how God wants me to.
And so, the 4 small cysts are there for me to be mindful of the most important things in life - to be a child of God in small and big ways, to love unconditionally, to forgive myself and others endlessly and to grow in faith abundantly until I reach my last breath when I can genuinely say, I lived a life of love and welcome the call of my Creator.
But not now. ;o)
Tuesday, February 9, 2010
Friday, February 5, 2010
Obstacles in Life (?)
I have always been amazed at the maturity of people who are able to look past obstacles in life, looking straight into the world with a bright smile on their faces, just like nothing is wrong. I am not talking about obstacles such as terrorism, threat to world peace, hunger or the ongoing quest for a cure for cancer. No. I am just talking about the day to day mundane irritations of dealing with difficult people. I read somewhere that a geneticist said that because companies employ different types of people with different personalities, a positive work environment with high energy, high creativity and consistently happy people, may exist because the people hired into this company all have high “happy” hormones in their system, and hiring someone lacking this hormone, may not fit the environment, or may just about balance the “picture perfect” scenario.
Let me give you an idea of why I am even blogging about this. I wake up in the morning with so much zest for life; decided I will try to be positive all throughout the day. I wear something bright and cheerful, I greet everyone a good morning, I stop myself from swearing at the slow driver who will probably get me late for work and smile to myself that he must be retired and taking it easy… Good for him!! And so I try not to get pissed with not getting a parking slot close to the office saying to myself, the walk is good exercise. And once I get to my department, I greet the first person I see, who is my assistant, Good morning Donna!.. and in your effort to be pleasant, for your sake and others, you get dead silence. And not only that, all through out the day, you will hear her grumble about every new thing that you give her to do, like its not part of her job, and while she is NOT doing it, she is complaining and making smart-ass remarks sometimes unrelated to the assignment given to her. I keep my cool and just focus on making sure she does what she needs to do and provide some guidance. Maybe she needs some quiet time today, so I stay out of her way and just talk to her on a need basis. She then gets a print out and without as much as fixing the papers all upside down, some side ways and down, she passes it through her electric stapler and the staple actually does it's job, woooo hoooo! Except that the staple is in the middle of the all mixed up papers! It is so mixed up that you cannot actually read the 2nd pages onwards because it is stapled in the middle of it all. Now, how can someone look past this type of obstacle in life and still look perky and cheerful by the end of the day? Tell me? Cause I need to know if there is some potion or spiritual truth hidden in Tibet that I need to sign up for a guided pilgrimage to, so that I can achieve the yin and yang, the Let Go and Let God, the “maturity” of people (who actually exist!!! – thank goodness!!- thank GOD!!!) to look straight into the world with a bright smile on my face at the end of the day of working with someone like Donna.
On my “mature” days, I would probably just let it go and tell myself (although I don’t believe me sometimes too…) that it is not about me… her rudeness is about something else. Sometimes it works and sometimes, it doesn’t because I am not consistently in a mature mode. I have very little patience for people who are rude, and I cannot for the life of me, explain the root cause of it. So in the days that I am not as “mature”, whenever I hear her grumble, make rude remarks or comment so negatively about people, I get so pissed off and wonder, why the heck are you here in the office???
As my colleagues would tell me, the appropriate expression for me to say to her in this type of situations would be “Shit or get off the pot”. Dare me and I’d say it. If I am allowed to. :o) Not appropriate in the workplace but its nice to imagine it. So in the meantime, I bite my lip and stop myself from making a big deal out of her negativity and hope to God HE gives me the strength to keep my mouth shut so that I will not allow her to ruin my otherwise positive day.
Let me give you an idea of why I am even blogging about this. I wake up in the morning with so much zest for life; decided I will try to be positive all throughout the day. I wear something bright and cheerful, I greet everyone a good morning, I stop myself from swearing at the slow driver who will probably get me late for work and smile to myself that he must be retired and taking it easy… Good for him!! And so I try not to get pissed with not getting a parking slot close to the office saying to myself, the walk is good exercise. And once I get to my department, I greet the first person I see, who is my assistant, Good morning Donna!.. and in your effort to be pleasant, for your sake and others, you get dead silence. And not only that, all through out the day, you will hear her grumble about every new thing that you give her to do, like its not part of her job, and while she is NOT doing it, she is complaining and making smart-ass remarks sometimes unrelated to the assignment given to her. I keep my cool and just focus on making sure she does what she needs to do and provide some guidance. Maybe she needs some quiet time today, so I stay out of her way and just talk to her on a need basis. She then gets a print out and without as much as fixing the papers all upside down, some side ways and down, she passes it through her electric stapler and the staple actually does it's job, woooo hoooo! Except that the staple is in the middle of the all mixed up papers! It is so mixed up that you cannot actually read the 2nd pages onwards because it is stapled in the middle of it all. Now, how can someone look past this type of obstacle in life and still look perky and cheerful by the end of the day? Tell me? Cause I need to know if there is some potion or spiritual truth hidden in Tibet that I need to sign up for a guided pilgrimage to, so that I can achieve the yin and yang, the Let Go and Let God, the “maturity” of people (who actually exist!!! – thank goodness!!- thank GOD!!!) to look straight into the world with a bright smile on my face at the end of the day of working with someone like Donna.
On my “mature” days, I would probably just let it go and tell myself (although I don’t believe me sometimes too…) that it is not about me… her rudeness is about something else. Sometimes it works and sometimes, it doesn’t because I am not consistently in a mature mode. I have very little patience for people who are rude, and I cannot for the life of me, explain the root cause of it. So in the days that I am not as “mature”, whenever I hear her grumble, make rude remarks or comment so negatively about people, I get so pissed off and wonder, why the heck are you here in the office???
As my colleagues would tell me, the appropriate expression for me to say to her in this type of situations would be “Shit or get off the pot”. Dare me and I’d say it. If I am allowed to. :o) Not appropriate in the workplace but its nice to imagine it. So in the meantime, I bite my lip and stop myself from making a big deal out of her negativity and hope to God HE gives me the strength to keep my mouth shut so that I will not allow her to ruin my otherwise positive day.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
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