Several years ago I read a book that held life-changing results for me. The title was "The Power of Now", by author Erkhart Tolle. Over the years, I've read it no less than 10 times. Perhaps I listened to it is closer to the truth, for I bought both the hard-cover and cassette tape versions. At any rate, the book spoke volumes to me and although it was not what I would call 'an easy read', Mr. Tolle's ideas, concepts, and beliefs somehow found their way into the back-most recesses of my mind. And, over the years, they have often whispered to my conscious mind and therefore have given me much comfort.
I am finding that particularly true right now. To me, nothing is as important, pure, or beautiful as this moment right now in time. Why? Because at this moment in time, I am not aware that my cancer has come back to torment me, the cancer that tried to steal my life three years ago, and which I believed to have beaten. Waiting to hear the results of my biopsy from last week, at this moment in time I only have to think about how I am feeling right now, and what I am tending to right now. Right now, I am writing this essay and I am enjoying the feel of the keyboard just beneath my finger tips, and the look of the computer monitor as my words seem to magically appear on it, letter by letter. The dryer's sounds in the background are cozily familiar as my clothes tumble and scamper amongst themselves in a race to nowhere. My dog lies at my feet, snoozing and seeming to be enjoying each moment of peaceful oblivion. As I give myself over to the true 'power of now', at this moment in time I have no problems, no worries, and no pain. How wonderful is that?! Pretty wonderful, if you ask me.
This happens to be December 9, 2011. It is the holiday season and as the whole world counts down the days to Christmas, the Reason for the season, I am caught up in the festivities as never before. For a very deeply personal reason, this year's Christmas is very special to me. Each sight, sound, and smell is thrilling to me. I could not wait to put up my Christmas tree, and so I did, on December 2nd., the day after my biopsy. That night when my husband came home from work, he walked into my version of a winter wonderland and I could see a smile beginning to form on his tired-looking and worry-lined face. That made me glad! Very glad.
For the past 2 years, I didn't even put up a tree -- we relied on a little pottery-type replica with plastic lights sticking out all over it, something my husband's mother created long ago in a moment of creativity. It was green, shaped like a Christmas tree and had lights. Good enough, I thought. No muss, no fuss and just one main light bulb to worry about -- how much better could it get? I couldn't have been more wrong.
This year, our house is modestly dressed for the holiday, but at least it shows that I did something to make it look festive. After all, our kids flew the coop long ago, and we live so far away from them all -- so for too many years, I had the attitude "Why bother?" Our house did not look too Christmasy, but only as if someone had a second thought or two and stuck up a wreath here, or a glass tree there. Now, our house looks ready to welcome both friend and weary traveler alike; and in our minds and hearts, our family is here (thanks to the wonderment of texting and the ability to send pictures over a device instantly!), be it in spirit only.
I was never one to enjoy Christmas shopping. This year, I am a tad ahead of the game. I buy what strikes my fancy whenever I am in a store, making sure all of my wonderful friends will have something from me this year. I've already sent my gifts up to my kids and grand kids -- which is extremely early for me! The true joy I am experiencing this year takes me back to a time long ago in my life when the secrecy of Christmas gifts seemed like a delicious treat! Not a chore at all, gift gathering for those I love is a thrill this year, something I had long forgotten.
So, the morning progresses. I am thinking toward the trip to the mansion with my friends this afternoon, the one over in Germantown that is decorated to the hilt for Christmas, and open for tours. I've never seen it before, but this year is special, and so I will make the trek with them. Then, there is this evening, when I go with my performing choral group to the Women's Home on Leverington Avenue. We will sing for them and entertain them, just as we've done all year long for so many nursing homes, rehab centers and hospitals. We even sang at the Alzheimer's Walk event this past year, finding ourselves the only performing group allowed into the Citizen's Bank Ball park in south Philly. What a glorious day that was! But, this is to be our last performance for this year and how fitting it should be for women who have somehow lost their way, or who are too ill to live on their own. It will be a very special performance, indeed, for us and I know we will put our heart and souls into it. I love our singing group! They have become members of my extended family and I treasure each moment with them. I have so much to be thankful for this year!
As the sun slowly climbs a bit higher in the sky with each passing moment, I know that at some point it will seem to have come to a dead stop for me. That moment in time -- that "now" that is not here yet, but is on its way -- will find me holding the phone up to my ear and carefully listening to what my doctor has to say to me. I will either get a reprieve, via negative test results, or the test will be positive once again and it will be back to the all-too familiar routine of battling a serious illness. The next few moments will be very, very hard for me. I will, of course, make two calls to two special people who know about this situation and who are waiting so anxiously for the results. One is to my wonderful daughter, Janette, who has texted me no less than 10 times in two days to see if I've heard yet, and the other to my loving husband, the man who stole my heart so many years ago. He and I are a team, a true "duo" -- connected at the very soul. It is he that I am worried for, and I pray that for his sake, my test results will be negative. Oh, how very much I would love to call him and share that with him! The same goes for my daughter, of course, and she will become my 'telephone tree' and let the others know the good news.
But, that "now" is not here just yet. I don't know what it will be like because I don't know yet what my doctor will say. However, for Now, the only Now that any of us has, I am doing just fine. I do not have cancer, I do not suffer from the pain of Osteonecrosis, which I've battled for the past 16 years and formed an entire Organization for -- I am simply a person who is enjoying the sunny yet cold morning and cherishing each moment of it.
If I could give just one gift to everyone I know and love, it would be just this: Inner Peace that comes from true understanding of the power of "now". It would be a Peace that comes from deeply within, and which is a grace given from God Himself. It would be a Peace that would tide us all over from any circumstance this life has to throw at us, and a deep inner knowing that we are truly loved by a Power greater than any of us.
Merry Christmas to all this year and may we all enjoy the coming year, and many years to come. I intend to be here, God willing, but even if I"m not at least I am feeling that inner peace for now. The "Power of Now" is mighty, and to be treasured, as well as shared. God bless, everyone!
