Zen mistress Tara, the all-seeing one, alpha cat extraordinaire
Hope you don't mind the gratuitous kitty pic. Actually, my three cats demand equal blog time. So, this is Tara. Not Tara as in "Gone With The Wind." Tara as in the Tibetan Buddhist emanation of the bodhisattva Avalokiteshvara, peaceful version (for now, anyway).
OK, Tara, you've had your equal time. Now scram. It's my turn.
I really appreciate and am humbled by those of you who have said that I'm brave to share with you the details of my battle with parathyroid cancer. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Truth is, I'm not brave at all. I'm really scared. Terrified.
This blog is partly a manifestation of that fear. Part of me feels that if I can share with enough people, Fate will stop and say, "Gee, he seems like a really nice, sincere guy," rethink what he (or she) has in store for me, and cut me a huge karmic break. The wand will be waved, and I'll be all better.
Of course, I know this is pure fantasy.
Sometimes, I look upon this disease as a blessing because it has forced me to appreciate things in my life I used to take for granted. Simple things.
I still take these things -- time, friends, the physical ability to pursue my livelihood, interests and hobbies -- for granted. But now, I often catch myself in the act, slow down a bit, and appreciate more. I see the joy in just being able to enjoy a cup of tea. Or having an especially rewarding workout in karate class. Or not feeling guilty about doing absolutely nothing on a Saturday afternoon, even though there's so much I could be doing.
If I had to state a single goal through all that has come, and through all that is to come, it would be to learn to take the good with the bad. To enjoy the beautiful, and to embrace the ugly like water flowing around a rock.
To learn, as I once heard someone say, that life is a bitch. But that some of her puppies are cute.