I went down a catastrophizing spiral
Last week I thought I was dying.
I mean, I am dying — we all are. Every day, one step closer.
But last week, due to some unusual things going on in my body, I was sure I was dying soon. Maybe that’s part of what happens when you’ve had a cancer diagnosis — you become viscerally aware of your mortality. Suddenly every bump or twinge could lead to the end.
Last week, there it was again: the gutting awareness that death means leaving everything I love behind, and I was terrified.
I laid in bed and thought about the things I haven’t done yet (why haven’t I seen the Grand Canyon!?). I thought about what difference my life has made, which led to seeing the ways I hold myself back from being my fullest, most honest and vulnerable self.
These kinds of contemplations while in a crisis state of mind are only somewhat helpful. Yes, any incongruities in your life can be revealed quickly, like a good powerwash. But it’s easy to do some unrealistic bargaining in this state. I found myself swearing that I would finally give up sugar, appreciate every moment, never get impatient, and “be a better person” if only I could live.
I really should give up sugar. But the other promises don’t provide any real guideposts.
Now that I’m out of the downward spiral of my mind and fairly certain that things with my body are fine, I am bringing some of the more helpful questions that came from my death-dance into this week. I thought I’d share in case you want to ask yourself 1-2 of these questions as well.
How am I spending my days?
If I had 5 years to live, is there anything I would do differently going forward?
Does everyone I love know how much I love them?
What experience have I not had that I want to have?
Where do I hold back or edit at the expense of my own authenticity, needs or desires?
What’s my version of a ‘good life’ - what does that mean to me? Can I do one thing to live more of that?
Is there anything unresolved (e.g. an inner or outer relationship) that I can start to sort out?
The thing about a health scare or near-death awareness is the potent truths and appreciations of life usually pass. We would like to hold onto them because they remind us to let go of the little stuff, hug a little longer and take good care of these borrowed suitcase bodies. But life-as-usual emerges gradually we are grateful for its buffer.
It’s a practice to remain close enough to death that it reminds you to live. Yoga is good at that. Any kind of faith or spiritual practice can do that. Nature is a brilliant teacher.
These bodies are a wonder -- "salty, impermanent kingdoms," as Robert Bly said. I'm exhaling more deeply and feeling the sun on my skin today. If you have a body story, scare or gratitude that you'd like to share, I'd be honored to hear. Just reply.
With love,
