Precious Cargo

What a shame to not fully bloom. Fear, apprehension, self-doubt cripple us. And they are an insult to our unique gifts. Because that part that wants to express is true, good and should live (even if the output is imperfect!).

Remember the morning demon that demands your review of the future day. It asks: would repeating this day be joyous, or miserable? That seems as good a scorecard as any in deciding what good one will make of the day.

Our days take on a rhythm. That rhythm might be inertia, based on days past. It might be twisted into a pretzel by the school or business culture. Or maybe it’s the rhythm of no rhythm, each day totally novel to bash routine. The day might be filled with wonder, or with trepidation. But whatever it is know that you have the space to change it if it’s not working. If it’s squelching the gift. Will you do it intentionally, or reflexively? Perhaps a set of rules would help.

  • if lethargic then walk
  • if overwhelmed then belly breathe for 1 minute
  • if indecisive then get action
  • ….

There’s an African proverb I heard from Jack Kornfield (a well known Buddhist teacher) in a talk he gave a few months ago:

Children are born with a precious cargo. It’s the job of a parent to help them deliver it.

The blockers to ensuring this happens are many, individual as fingerprints. But underneath most of them is a dampening of enthusiasm. How might we ensure that self-doubt, the (likely imagined) judgments of others, or anything else doesn’t creep into their psyches? Can you hear the brakes screeching?

If you’re a parent (even if you aren’t), try not to forget that you too are a child with cargo that needs delivering. A good way to ensure children can get there is to show them how. Let’s model that delivery process.

The path isn’t always this straight (taken in Whitefish, Montana)

A year since I was diagnosed

Here’s a quick update since it’s been a while and I’m getting the itch to write again.

There have been quite a few (great!) changes lately: I’m back at work; we moved the family to the east bay; kids are thriving. But I’ve also been feeling some uncharacteristic anxiety lately. I was attributing it to ‘life’, then it occurred to me that while all that is true the underlying reason is it’s an anniversary – a year since I was diagnosed (cancer is murky and these timelines are approximate; I had symptoms July 4 vacation then started chemo on 8/8). So this time last year I was going through a battery of scary tests to figure out what was going on. I have visceral memories of the uncertainty of it all. While I’m overall feeling quite excellent physically I do find myself often checking my abdomen, feeling for growth. Is that a lump? Am I cured? Am I fooling myself? The pangs of anxiety are good reminders not to take things for granted. This is a marathon involving both psyche and physique. These are not in equal proportion – for me at least the former is much more demanding. 

The thing that really stands out in reflecting back on the year is my support network. This was my unfair advantage over the disease: friends, family, colleagues, even strangers. I well up with gratitude and consider myself among the most fortunate men alive.

So if you’re reading this, thank you. 

3 buckyballs
Thank you!