So had my first nightmare in a long time. It was surreal as it started in the middle. I am sure I was dreaming of something else, but I see a guy passing by, and for some reason. I call him a pussy. He keeps walking, but I know he is going to come back, and sure enough he does. I am on some stairs, and he begins walking up, and I begin blubbering that I was kidding, and didn’t mean to say what I did but like in dreams, suddenly there are 3 more people, and one grabs my hand, trying to force my wedding ring off while another grabs my watch, and then third has a razor blade. The old school kind that my father used to use when he shaved. And I start mumbling that I really didn’t mean it, but the razor keeps coming towards my right eye. The only one with a contact, and I don’t want to be blind. I don’t want to be squinting out of left eye which sees mostly blurs lately. I knew instinctively that they wanted the good eye, and as I woke up, there was an immediate fading idea that if only I had a gun to equalize the unfairness of the situation (there goes my liberal card).
The weird part is that I didn’t know any of the men well except for the first guy who suspiciously looked like the Reading Rainbow Gentleman Levar Burton (chucking anti-racist card as we speak). Yes, I did try to figure out the dream, and I am pretty sure the entire dream was an allegory of my recent in ability to read, write or do anything workout related the past few weeks. Each day, I have this vague goal of writing and running, and while some days I am successful in writing for 20 minutes and exercising for 15, I know that’s not going to get it done if I want to be published or be in any sort of shape for the Spartan Beast which is fast approaching in September.
But, and this is a big but, I know I am doing something which is still infinitely better than the nothing I was doing before. So thanks to the Zen Habits, I practice self-compassion. I am giving myself a break even if they give me nightmares.
A beautiful morning, sun bathing the room so much so that I wonder if I have ever seen it like this before. Then it hits that the sun is lighting up what’s inside me, and I smile. And I smile some more because the external radiation and chemo are done. Gone is the not knowing, the fear, the constant ache of “will she be ok?” Don’t get me wrong, I am not looking past the fact that she has internal coming up, but Cancer cannot make us ignorant or scared anymore. The big bad wolf has turned out to be a mere shadow that we magnified in our mind.
I cannot help but soak in the sun, letting it breath into me more strength for her. The burden has gotten lighter, we are beginning to see the end of this trial, and for once can actually discuss the future rather than future appointments, can actually look forward to the weekends as a real break rather just something to give her some breathing room, can plan to run a household rather than worry if the house is poisoning her somehow.
Still, I cannot get rid of some of my hurts, while looking forward to the new joys. I miss some greatly while others with a tinge of regret wondering where it all went wrong, and others just not ready to be there for us, and that’s fine. I love them all, but I am also cautious, I know now that some were unfairly put on high pedestals and some pushed off too swiftly. So I sit here and learn while the sun continues to fuel me, make appreciate what I have and love, and I know of only one certainty and that is today. What is it that I can do today that represents, us, and our family. What is it that I can do in the next moments to just make it a little easier or fun for us. So I sit here, smile and feed hungrily off the sun waiting for inspiration, oh wait, the better word would be knowledge or perhaps just accept that it was meant to be that my car came back the same day the major part of the treatment ended.
All that time worrying just really wasted because what was meant to happen, did, and what wasn’t just resided in the endless loop of thoughts in my head. So I breathe out slowly, the worries, the fears, the not knowing, and revel in the moment, just enjoying the day, the moment, the realization that we will get through this, that we already have, that what I needed was always there, I just didn’t want to see it that way.
However, (is there always one) I know that there is much to be done, much for us to do, to travel, perhaps finally get on a plane together, but more than that for me to get back to work. That’s really the strange part, I miss it, and finally know what I am meant do there. I never thought I would say that, but looking at myself through my family’s eyes made me realize that I can be general counsel, and the fears and doubts (particularly the lact of confidence) were my own creations. I was my own hurdle. I had convinced myself that I would never learn but worse that I couldn’t learn, but the previous months of reading and writing made me realize how much I miss the law, and why I fell in love in the first place I also know what kind of lawyer I cant stand, and there are many attorneys who exploit California law to just make money for themselves while claiming to be consumer attorneys. I no longer will let my ignorance be the reason, my business suffers. No more. It’s time to discard the uniform of “I don’t know” and don on “I will get back to you on this.”
Funny, what a few months of cancer can do to you. Instead of sapping us of our energy and will, it has renewed it. So thank you cancer, for making me realize what is truly important. I owe you one but I wont ever like you, and one more thing: fuck you. Sorry, but your just really not forgivable. Besides, it’s you who gets my negative emotions or others, and I choose you. You are my big bad wolf, my enemy, my bad versus good. So deal with it. I will be celebrating when you die, and I will dance on your grave. You maybe “the emperor of all maladies” but you have no clothes.
Today was one of those days where nothing made sense, and everyone seemed to be at blame. I was unhappy with many, and it seemed that many close to her were taking her chemotherapy for granted. I was angry, yet I knew what was driving this emotion: fear. My fear, to be precise. In my effort to control the uncontrollable, I got lost in the blame game. It seemed easier to be angry than to face the glaring truth: I am run down, overwhelmed, and just plain tired. Plus, I can no longer ignore the twinges in my throat that foretell a major cold: something she cannot absolutely not be around.
And so I fumed, angry at the world and especially annoyed by others carrying on with their day when I know no peace and neither does she. Therein lies the problem: I made my pain above hers, and just felt truly alone. Between the countless hours of worrying, and wondering what the coming day will consist of, I lost sight of the one person truly living with this. It’s easy as hell to be mad at her family for not being around, but hard to acknowledge that I am failing her in some key ways: mainly in emotional arena. It’s hard because I am not at peace anytime and unable to get to do the things I need to fulfill myself. I am drawing empty, I do not know what to do.
So I get angry, and blame and try to numb myself by borrowing an hour to go to the Hidden cafe. It’s not enough because deep down, I know I am not doing myself any favors by blowing smoke, and that the real break for me is to be around my friends and family, read and write as much as I can. I do not know how to reach out because I have been let down by a few, and due to this foolish pride of mine, I sit here alone in the other room unable to sustain my wife in any meaningful way. I see it and know that I need to be better, and can be better. I just have to step away from the ones that aggravate me, quit blaming others, be vulnerable, love myself, be kind to my soul, and love her with all my soul.
So although the day went nowhere fast, and I fight this cold, I know one truth: we are halfway through and at the end of the day, that is all that matters. I am thankful for what I have, no for what we have, and have faith that things will get better. Today ended with me realizing that I need help, and it may not come from the ones I expect. And that’s ok. Friends and people will fail and let me down, and I will too, and that’s ok. I am only human.
Woke up, put my one contact one, opened up my blog, and began writing. No hesitation, no distractions, just me and the words. Small hesitation on what topic to begin, my trip around US or the leaving topic mentioned by Goldberg (I had chosen leaving) and then decided to combine both in a just a second. House was quiet and so was my mind, just the fingers decided for me. Thought alternating paragraphs made sense and then it hit me that I went on my trip few weeks after breaking off my marriage and that was the main reason I went on this trip.
Next hard part was remembering all the places I went so hands started to hesitate and the words slowed but then I called my cousins and a brief conversation added more detail and I realized I need to sit with him and remap the journey, his memory was definitely better memory (considered he had a brain tumor that’s pretty telling).
Although I woke up quite late, i didn’t know this till I finished past the house, I was surprised but thee were a few things that helped. While writing, I started the kettle, made me some coffee, turned on some religious music (meditation type) and for a while I was lost in my thoughts on paper. It has been years since I reached that stage.
Its decided, whenever I wake and before bed I will write, regardless of the time. Ideal is 8am and 10 pm but even i miss those deadlines, I will still write.
Mainly edited what I wrote in the morning, around 10 pm, took an hour but also managed to add 200 more words so perhaps I shall be writing in the morning and editing at night.
Confusion has become my best friend. I realized this today as I tried to figure out a to do list for my life and while some things appear quite apparent and perhaps even clear, I scribble away that clarity with more to dos, more “gotta get this done”‘s and suddenly I am back to the uncertain Sanjay, the one I vowed to eliminate.
Yet the glimmer is there, I see myself a different person, the one getting things done the way I want them done, only if I knew what they were, and then it hits me that perhaps its not just confusion, its part laziness and a big dose of fear.
I am scared of making changes in my life because the status quo has been going on for so long. And then I realize the silliness of that and I am struck at my own confusion about what it is that I really want.
I want to eliminate my debt, something I am afraid to admit openly considering how much I make. I know that previous comment witll come as cocky to some but the truth of the matter is, I have silly debt, debt thats holding me back because its from my past and it represents my failings as a better person. I know the uncertainty is there that if I manage to eliminate my debt yet again, I will create another hole.
And there lies the crux of the problem. In the process of cleaning up my life, will I clutter it up again with useless material things and lack of focus?
And thats the question that eats at me while I strive to go the gym, manage my expenses better and prepare to marry the love of my life.
Nothing like a few words of encouragement from strangers and friends to fill one’s soul up and want to keep trying. It’s not often that I ask for anything (atleast no consciously) and then I realize how easy the people around me make my life. But it makes me wonder why I dont ask more often. It’s as if I am afraid to come off as greedy or perhaps as weak or the absolute worst: a whiner.
All of these throughts battle around my words, resulting in the a lot of the blog posts asking a lot of questions but offering very few answers. I cant blame the blog, its done its job of venting. So I can only look to myself and only find more questions. Oh, the questions. I am so sick of asking and not knowing, or wondering and not being sure, of just NOT living and breathing from one day to another.
And when I am drowning in this utterly wasteful life of mine (with a glass of black label and coke sitting along side of me), I hear my friends and family’s thoughts and encouragement for me, and although it doesnt make the night go any faster, it fills me with enough courage to ask for their wisdom.
Ofcourse, in hindsight (especially now), it looks oh so easy, but it takes a special kind of self pity for me to pick up that phone to text out that call for help. Too much time in fact. It is as if I have to feel utterly alone and lost before asking for direction.
Today, I am here, asking for help. Asking for words that make sense of my life, of my world, of my love. Today, I want no need direction, need to be pointed to the right way because right now nothing seems more wrong. I ask for love. I ask for understanding. But mostly, I ask for encouragement, that life isnt so bad, and to stop being such a whiny bitch.