This Mundane Day
There is nothing extraordinary about today. I woke up. I showered. I woke my little one. I made his breakfast. I took him to nursery school. I ran errands… basically it’s been a day like any other day. But that is the beauty of today. It’s having this day – this mundane day – to live, to breath, to enjoy.
I was so scared that cancer would rob me of my days, my moments, my life. In many aspects it did. My breast cancer monopolized my thoughts, my feelings, and my abilities as I went through the diagnosis, surgery, follow-ups, and treatment. It remained in the forefront of my mind and it still does. I talk a lot about my experience to anyone willing to listen, and I am not sure if that is okay? But it has been my way of dealing with it, because I feel like my situation was a little bit unique; and when I talk, I find a community of people who can relate in some aspect, or share a personal story of their own. I feel less alone. But the fear can sometimes feel greater when I talk, because sharing the story means that I am reliving the experience. And, the fear of reoccurrence still haunts me. I wish I could shake it off and be done with it. Honestly. My doctors all believe that my cancer is cured. I should firmly believe that too. And, in fact, it’s not that I don’t believe it, it’s just that I am scared. I think of how massive the cancer was. How aggressive the cancer was. How damn lucky I truly, truly was. And there is no explanation as to why I had breast cancer – no known reason could be found. It was merely my bad luck – but very good luck in the way the cancer grew within my breast. It’s overwhelming. So, is it normal to feel this way? I don’t know.
I can’t begin to know what is the “right way” to feel after having cancer. I hear from so many survivors that their life seems brighter, richer, fuller – but – what if your life doesn’t feel that way? What if your life is still plodding along the way you left it pre-cancer? What if your days, most days, are simply mundane days? Is that wrong? Is there something I am missing? Am I being ungrateful for this second chance at life? This has been a driving thought and concern that I have been grappling with. I have felt that my life should mean more than it does, but have foolishly forgotten that my life does mean something. I am alive. I’m living my life how I choose, and I did not let cancer take that away from me. I fought, and I won. And I will always fight for my mundane. Because the word mundane has several meanings. We all know it means “humdrum, common, ordinary” but it also means “relating to, or characteristic of the world”. Mundane is of this earthly world rather than a heavenly one. And I definitely choose earthly.
Does my life feel richer? Does it feel fuller? Is it brighter? No. It doesn’t feel any of those things unless I put in the effort to make it so. But, that doesn’t mean I have to change my lifestyle and who I am. I can enjoy my lifestyle and remain true to myself. All I need to do is alter my perception. I simply need to choose to make the very best of my mundane. To love it, relish in it, and be in the moment of it. It does not mean that I won’t strive for successes, or stop dreaming, or give up on my passions. It just means that I am going to appreciate more of what I have, everyday, and be less critical of myself, my accomplishments, and my life. And that is what I think most cancer survivors come to realize. They realize the value within themselves and within their life.
So, as I sit sipping my latte, I will revel in the knowledge and realization that I am lucky enough to have this amazing and beautiful mundane day. I will lunch with my son. I will play on the floor with him. I will go to work. I will do nothing that is out of the ordinary, and I will love it.
This Mundane Day. Published by Crystal Joy Hall