Glenn and I wrote a children's book this year, and it's finally available! Check it out at glennandlauriebooks.com to see where it's available.
This is the reason I haven't posted much on my blog in recent months. I found it impossible to write a cheery kids' book while writing about my cancer journey. The two worlds just don't get along very well together, and I felt like I was stuck on a see-saw of emotions.
But Spotty and Dotty are a direct result of my cancer journey. In the fall of 2021, I found out that Frank was shrinking, and I may have more time. After working through the rage that I felt about that 'good news' (I'll write about that in a future post), I started to wonder what I was going to do with myself. What can I do? If I'm not dying, then what?
I've had the idea to write a children's book about where water goes for at least thirty years, I just haven't had the time to think about it until recently, what with raising four kids. I'm not blaming them; it's all worked out as it should, but it was busy and free time was pretty scarce. I'm happy that Glenn and I wrote it together, too, whereas if I had done it before now, it would have been just me. We've had fun writing and then editing it over and over and over again. Okay, some of it wasn't fun, but we got through it without killing each other, which I count as a win.
You may be wondering, after reading all of that, why I called this post "What I'm Feeling Today: Part Two," but be patient.
We are now in the marketing phase, trying to get the word out about our book, and unfortunately, it's all done through social media, which I vowed to stay off of in my last post just four short days ago. I've been scrolling through the news with one eye closed and my head half-turned away so I only see the headlines, as well as trying my best not to linger and read posts by other people because sometimes (okay, a lot of times) I disagree, and I've noticed that I'm feeling a lot more anger and self-righteousness than usual. I'm not hateful; they are, and I must say something about it! Call them out on their hypocrisy! Maybe it's time to limit my feeds to babies and puppies, just like I did during the worst of my cancer battle.
I got into a little skirmish yesterday with a woman who had commented on a friend's post, calling her hateful and angry. "Hold on," I thought, "I can't let you call my friend that!" so I called her out for her judgement, pointing out that she was doing the exact same - being hateful.
I felt pretty justified for a few minutes, feeling quite proud of myself for pointing out her failing and believing the world needs people like me, calling out injustice when they see it. Then, my feelings started to change as my 'righteous' anger faded.
She called my friend hateful and angry, which I felt justified in calling her out for because my friend is not that. I think she's a Mom and a woman who is scared for her kids' future and working through a whole lot of feelings, which she should be given the space to do without being called hateful and angry.
But I just did the same thing to her that she did to my friend. How is that okay, and when will it stop if we feel justified in pointing out each other's failures? It's like an endless tennis match, continually lobbing the hate ball back and forth, hoping to score points. I am fighting with all my might not to be that person, but sometimes it feels good to punch back, at least in the short term, until you come to the unfortunate realization that you're no different.
My journey has changed in the last few months as I've had another reminder that my time here is limited. I don't want to waste whatever time I have left feeling bitter and angry about things that I have no control over. I also don't want to become the judge of everyone else's behaviours or beliefs. The term 'Karen' comes to mind, although I have a friend named Karen, and she's fantastic. I don't want to be the other kind of Karen.
There's a verse in the Bible that says something like, "Don't worry about the speck in your neighbour's eye until you've dealt with the log in your own," and that's what I'm going to do. There's a whole lot of specks in a log, so I think I'll be too busy to worry about anyone else. I can't control how anyone else acts, what they believe or how they vote. It's also none of my business. I can only control how I act and react, and even then, not so much.
I listened to a clip of Eckhart Tolle this morning, and it helped to bring everything I've been feeling into clearer focus. He said, "The world is not here to make you happy. The world is here to make you conscious." I like that, especially in the face of what I'm looking at right now. I'm not happy about any of it, but it is what it is - life. It's not the world's job to make me happy, and how much entitlement do I have in me to assume that it is?
Be conscious, pay attention, be brave and resilient, stand up for things that are pure and good, and clear away the trash (that exists in me, not you - that's your job), but do it with humility, kindness, compassion, empathy and love, knowing that you're no better, or worse than anyone else. None of us are better than the other because we're all human, and we all fail and make mistakes. We're also not owed any favours, no matter how much we feel like we are. Maybe our job is just to quietly and humbly point out the way through when the lights go out. But maybe they won't go out. I have hope for that, even if it's just a tiny little glimmer in the midst of what feels like a pretty big storm.
And then, I come back to the quiet space within myself that I call home. The vast, open space inside where I can pause, look around, take a few deep breaths, and appreciate the goodness of this life. The joy. And shut the fuck up because the more I talk, the smaller that space seems to get. I haven't needed that space as much in the last few years, but with a new diagnosis, I was feeling pretty desperate to find my way back. It's feeling harder to find quiet in many places outside of myself right now, but I can always retreat and go inside when I'm feeling overwhelmed and pause there in the stillness for a while. So can you. I gotta tell ya, it feels pretty good.
To bring this meandering post to a close, I want to share another quote. This one is by Albert Camus, as spoken by Eckhart Tolle in the same talk I listened to this morning:
"In the depths of winter, I realized deep within myself an invincible summer."
I love that. Summer is warmth and sunshine. That's what I want to be, too.
Take care, friends, and be kind and compassionate with yourselves.
PS: Just as my journey has changed, I am going to be making changes to this site, so stay tuned for more in the next weeks.
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