Your one wild and precious life

I love this question from the poet Mary Oliver. I took this picture of her quote in Jen's apartment in Brooklyn a couple of years ago. Imagine asking yourself this every morning as you wake, as you slowly become aware of your surroundings, hear the sounds of the day outside the open window, remember whether it's a work day or not, open your sleepy eyes to the light, say good morning to whoever you're waking up next to and launch yourself gently into the day. Even if coming up with an actual answer to this almighty question seems beyond our reach most of the time, just to be reminded that we only have one life and that it is both wild and precious should make us think differently about the day.
In fact that's it isn't it? There's no point wondering or, worse still, worrying about what to do with your life; just live it with the constant awareness of how lucky you are to have it at all.

A serious illness like cancer can help with this for sure because by its very nature it's a wake-up call, a stark reminder of your mortality and a kick up the arse to stop taking your life for granted. However it can also make it very hard to look ahead, to plan what you're going to do with your precious life, to see beyond the startling here and now. It's hard to look beyond the next treatment let alone make big wild plans. 

As I've mentioned before I've struggled at times to make sense of all this and to stay strong for Nick as she goes through the crazy, unpredictable madness of this lymphoma thing. Sometimes my colleagues at work say 'are you ok? you're very quiet'. Yes, some days I'm very quiet. 

Last week I had my first counselling session, met my counsellor Jess and sat on the comfy sofa in the 'quiet room' at the Seamoor cancer unit where Nick had her chemo. So I get to talk about being 'quiet' or about being downright bloody furious, terrified, wanting to swear at people for no good reason or I can just ramble on about the way our lives have changed these last few months and how that makes me feel. It's good to talk but it's hard; putting feelings into words, admitting to some of the unwelcome thoughts that sneak into my mind when my guard is down, being totally honest with a complete stranger and, even harder, being totally honest with myself. The second visit was easier, I didn't use quite as many of Jess's tissues and I didn't feel quite so emotionally drained afterwards as I did the first time. I'm sure those of you who've had counselling can identify with this but I had no idea what to expect. Mostly I felt a bit of a fraud because mostly I'm absolutely fine but I know I need this and I know it'll be helpful. There's a relaxation element to it too, some coaching in mindful meditation which will hopefully be something to take away and use in the future if I can hang onto the discipline required to take ten minutes out of the day just for myself, just to breathe. This 'to do' list is from Dawn's study, I love it.


All this said I think Nick and I do a pretty good job of remembering our 'one wild and precious life' most days. I've had this Mary Oliver quote on my mind for a few days, wanting to use it in my blog so it may not have been the very first thought I had this morning but it was there or thereabouts. (As usual I woke up thinking that something terrible had happened to my legs during the night only to find that it's just Olive sleeping on my feet!). Thankfully it was a bright morning, a welcome glimpse of blue sky after days of rain. We went for a swim (indoors, it's still flipping chilly!) and I cursed the What Would Nick Do? mantra - I would've happily plodded up and down the pool for 50 lengths and got out feeling quite smug but no, Nick decided we should do 'sets' so I got out feeling exhausted with arms as heavy as lead!! But that did mean I felt like we'd earned the massive breakfast that followed. Every cloud and all that!! Then I took myself off and picked some bilberries from the moor, I usually only do this once a year because, although I love it and it reminds me of warm childhood days in the forest, it takes ages to get just a small pot of purple jewels and my hands are stained for days! Meanwhile Nick was working on her furniture restoration project, a beautiful old day bed which will be perfect for lounging with a book. Then, this afternoon we had a walk with the dogs and a bit more foraging, chanterelles this time growing along an ancient beech hedgerow hidden at the bottom of a boggy valley; not the easiest place to get to but worth every wet foot and knee for the delicious knobbly golden mushrooms that look like treasure, smell like apricots and taste like the earth. 

Mary Oliver will celebrate her 82nd birthday on September 10th, the day that Di and I will be running the Great North Run so in answer to her question on that day what I'll be doing with my 'one wild and precious life' is joining 60,000 people to run 13 miles for the first time in my life to raise money for The Lymphoma Association.

What does this question bring immediately to your mind? If I dare to dream some of my big wild plans involve going to Namibia (I randomly bought a map of Namibia 26yrs ago for 50p so need to make use of that!), cycling every road on Exmoor, swimming in every body of water in the Lake District, writing a book, raising a litter of puppies, exploring the small towns and huge statues of Minnesota.....but also small, less wild plans come to mind, simple things that seem hard right now because now we have to navigate this cancer hurdle and that means taking care of our precious lives one day at a time with the help of all of you; sometimes doing wild and wonderful things, sometimes being quiet and feeling fragile but always breathing, always noticing the small things and always waking up with a dog close by.