A page from my diary:
Sunday : 6:00 am February 21st, 2016
I have been up since 3 am. I don’t know what people did before the smart phones when they woke up this early. Now, the world is always wide awake next to you and you can conveniently walk out into at 3 in the morning and blend into the other half of the “awake” world. You can seamlessly enter discussions and make comments without the awkwardness of “Why are you up at this hour?”. The 24 hour cocktail party is on and it’s easy to join the conversations of those slacking at work in the other side of the world and perpetual insomniacs on this side.
I am not a perpetual insomniac. I like to sleep. When I can I know exactly what to take and how much, to get enough sleep. The problem is that today I am trying very hard for this night to not turn into dawn. I know that the hours when you want to sleep but cant, the early morning hours, when your mind has eerie clarity about life and despite having heavy lids, you see life clearly, those early hours feel long. They feel long because they defy expectation. I would like to sleep but cant. That makes the minutes last longer and hours feel forever. I am doing this today.
I want to extend this time. I don’t want Monday to arrive. I don’t want Monday morning to come just yet.
The evening before I was trying to figure out, how do I bottle my being into a something permanent? A friend of mine has her birthday next weekend and I was looking for a present for her. I know she likes my taste in gifts. Is there a way I can preserve that? Pass it on to my kids, my good taste. A slice of me. Me and my life.
What is the extent of my life? How wide does it spread? From one country to another where my loved ones are? What is the spread of my life like? Everyone that I have met and touched? My virtual acquaintances ? What precisely is the area that my life occupies in this world? Is it little chunks of caring in everyone’s hearts that I have known or is it me within my body?
Does my life actually reside within my children who have my genes? Is my life in my genes within them? How big or small is my life? One human among billions. One life among a sea of human beings on this revolving earth.
Is it as small as a frame of 5.4 and 130 lbs or as big as a particle of energy that belongs to the whole universe. Do I vibrate or do I breath?
Does size of my life matter? Does the size of those few millimeter lesions matter that were seen on my liver on Saturday. Just a cluster of few cells while my entire body is nothing but cells.
But it feels like life is shrinking longitudinal and simultaneously expanding to the horizons of concerns and fears, of hope and faith. What are the boundaries of my psychological life,? the waves of fear and anxiety, moments of laughter, times of self reflection, of joy , of pain?
Is my life knowing who I am and where I am? Is my life the people around me? Or is it my beating heart and my breathing lungs?
We so casually use this term, “this is my life”. But exactly how much life does this word “ life “ contain and what are the limits?
My life, in years? My life in breaths, my life in love, my life in objects, the books that line the floor, earrings neatly arranged in a box, clothes hanging in the closet. Where is me and how much is me?
Me and my life.
Is my life mine? Can I even call it “my” life. “My” is a word of full ownership and control. Mine is security and a commitment.
Is it mine or really never was.
Life it is.
Just life. A mosaic of moments, things, genes, scenes, emotions put together braided through in a big fabric of universe and I am a spot somewhere.
The spot that shines with breaths and beats and dulls down eventually.
My life a spot, a juncture, a happening, a few moments of alignment of the components of life. Then those components come undone only to blend together for another spot to shine.
I have been up since 3 thinking about my life. This life that I spent and a Monday that waits for me. With results and imaging and the few more ingredients called metastatic cancer in my liver, the scanner is ready to be part of this story again.
Is my life my liver, it can be, at least a part of me that decides whether I dull or whether I shine?
Is Cancer my life or a part of me? Where does this start and where does it end. Cancer, the unmanaged growth ready to shrink what I call life knowing very well, life has no definition, no extent, and no limit.
Its all weaved together, me, life and cancer, something grows, something shines and something dulls.