I was told today about a woman who has cancer, and how she’s reacting to it. I was also told that she’s very critical, judgmental, and controlling. I said that in that case, the disease may turn out to be a blessing.
People who are told that they have a terminal disease become obsessed with finding out any and all treatments, medications, and interventions that might help them live longer, or heal them of the disease altogether. This is only natural, and good. Scores of people have had their lives improved and even saved, by doing this.
And then there are those people whose efforts fail to stop the disease. If they are wise, they surrender into the act of dying.
When this happens another kind of healing takes place. Because the ending is now clear, all hurry and rushing around cease. After all, where are they rushing to? The outcome is death, and there’s no getting around it. Why rush to get there?
When we no longer have a “future,” fear and desperation eventually dissolve. We realize that all of our efforts to control everything and everyone is futile. That doesn’t mean that we become lazy or depressed. We become aware of what is truly valuable and worth our time and effort. This is ultimately the purpose of any terminal illness from a spiritual point of view.
I’d like to suggest an exercise to you. Whatever you do today, especially when it comes to the simplest acts, say to yourself, “I could die today.”
What if this is true?
What if you were to die today?
What feelings come up when you say this?
What people come to mind?
What dreams do you regret not accomplishing?
What responsibilities do you let go of?
Next week, pick another activity to say this to yourself while you’re doing it. Pick another one the week after that.
When we bring this consciousness into our daily lives we become more gentle – with ourselves and others. We become more aware of what is really important, useful and necessary in both our actions and attitudes. We become more focused and the speed with which things happen can take our breath away.