Clouds

As I have gotten older I think I have been blessed to spend a majority of my time living in the grey.

”In the grey” is the area between black and white. In the clouds, where things are murky. Where we must consider things from both sides.

The ability to objectively consider things is professionally beneficial but I also think it is my nature. I try very hard not to judge people. Life is unclear, uncertain and unpredictable. My goal is to attempt to understand. That doesn’t mean I don’t get frustrated or annoyed by things, I am no saint (ask my family) but I will do my best to appreciate why someone is behaving in a way that I might find baffling, irritating or outrageous.

The other thing I have come to learn as I have gotten older is I really don’t know much at all. It is easy when things are black or white. Grey can be terribly difficult to navigate. Many times I just have to accept things and move on without achieving understanding.

Post cancer I feel much calmer. I am not sure if it is the hormones tapering off or something more profound like knowing I can stare death in the eyes and not blink.

In my last post I touched on having genetic counselling. It is compulsory before you can be gene tested. If I test positive for some of the genes associated with gnarly gynaecological cancers I will have to make decisions about further surgery. I have left the test kit sitting on the hallway table until after the holidays. I’ve waited this long, a few more weeks won’t matter.

The genetic counselling, coupled with my annual viewing of Love Actually made me reflect on the only other time I had counselling. It was 2001 or 2002. My sister had died and I was in the midst of breaking up with the ex (the one I met on the London tube train). I think it is fair to say that I was doing a very good job at pretending to be sane. I am confident I was not, or if I was, I was clinging to sanity by my finger nails.

My ex made me doubt my own sanity. He also behaved in ways that drove me crazy and chipped away at my confidence. What I came to learn in counselling was that he was probably a narcissist. Things were good when we lived in the UK because I was distanced from my friends and family, but once I came back to New Zealand the relationship unravelled at a rate of knots. He behaved appallingly and I let him for far too long. The relief when we split was quite remarkable. I was heartbroken but heartbreak is manageable - what I had not appreciated was that my love for him was coupled with a constant, gnawing, anxiety. Being free from that felt incredible.

My breakup song was “Both Sides Now” by Joni Mitchell. I had it on repeat while I cried my way through several boxes of tissues. That song accompanies the most heartbreaking scene in Love Actually where Karen realises the necklace she’d found in her husband’s pocket was not a gift for her, but for his mistress. My similar moment of realisation was a phone bill with the same number called multiple times per day. So I called the number and spoke to the woman who answered. Deep down I had known something was going on. It was the last time I ever doubted my intuition. I’ve looked at love from both sides.

And I’ve also had the profound experience of looking at life from both sides. From sickness and health. I’ve had deep conversations with terminal cancer patients while being treated. It made me realise I really don’t know life at all.

What I can say is that we all face death and we should all be living every day. It took a confrontation with cancer, the old win or lose, for me to appreciate that.

Tears and fears and feeling proud

To say, "I love you" right out loud

Dreams and schemes and circus crowds

I've looked at life that way

Oh, but now old friends, they're acting strange

And they shake their heads and they tell me that I've changed

Well, something's lost, but something's gained

In living every day

I've looked at life from both sides now

From win and lose and still somehow

It's life's illusions I recall

I really don't know life at all

It's life's illusions that I recall

I really don't know life

I really don't know life at all -Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell