Live In Peace

It seems there’s a lot of stuff happening in the world that’s probably very distracting, to say the least.  When the anniversary of the September 11 attacks came around, my first thought was that this was another negative thing to add to the pile.  It didn’t kind of work out that way.  Strangely, watching the memorial services this year, somehow rekindled the strong feeling of gratitude that I’d experienced after brain surgery.  At the time of the attacks, I remember being very worried about the future.  For myself and for my family, and actually for humanity in general.  

Not to diminish the experiences that a lot of people have suffered as a result of that event, but the world in its own weird way went back to something resembling “normal”, (to a certain extent).   It seems that change is inevitable, and all the worrying that I did about it at the time, made absolutely no difference.  

A few years later, along came my greatest fear.  

After watching people close to me die from cancer, and seeing the impacts it had on the people that loved them, I was worried about getting it myself.  And sure enough…

Cancer taught me gratitude.  

And not the flimsy, throwaway gratitude that we use every day; but a deep, profound gratitude for things and experiences that I couldn’t have imagined being thankful for in the past.  

In the years since my collapse, I’ve heard stories of experiences from my family that I wasn’t aware of.  Again, gratitude appears.  

Not long after the surgery when I was in recovery, my family came in to see me; and as I was still very groggy, it was a short visit.  I was oblivious to this until recently, but I found out that after my family left the room, they huddled together in the hall outside, and cried tears of gratitude.  

The thing that they were grateful for?  Something simple most of us take for granted.  Memory.  

I remembered them.  

They weren’t sure whether I was going to remember them, or my role in their lives, or anything about our lives together.  

I remembered at the time being grateful for the fact that I might live a couple more years.  That I wasn’t in any real pain.  That I could breathe.  Simple things.  

Seems to me we spend a lot of time looking at what we want, or what we think we should have, or should be doing. We could instead, just be grateful. 

Many of you taught me gratitude.  There are some of you who will be reading this who sent messages of love and well wishes back in 2016 - you will never know just how deeply that moved me, and how consoling that was.  Those of you who contributed to our Go Fund Me campaign at the time, literally saved our business.  We are here, writing this, today, because of you.  Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. So, so grateful.

I think that gratitude is a big deal.  It’s a doorway to an easier way of living.

A funny thing happens with gratitude.  In gratitude, true deep gratitude, there is an unconscious acceptance of what is, in that moment.  It doesn’t mean the rest of your life is perfect, but in that moment of gratitude, those “imperfections” are not your focus.  

In that acceptance of what is, there is peace.  

Peace can be such a throwaway word.  But when it is truly and deeply felt, there is almost nothing better.

I’ve just lost my friend Brett to cancer.  An irreverent, irrepressible, funny, cheeky bugger who was there for me when I was sick, and who I am indescribably grateful for.  It occurred to me, in coming to terms with Brett’s death, how cavalier we are with the term “Rest in Peace”.  

Maybe we should be “living in peace”.  Maybe life can be truly beautiful if we’re at peace.

I’m wondering if “peace” is what we should be focussing on, and less on all of the striving, struggling, seeking to alter, and wanting.  In being grateful for what we have, there is a peace, and a space to be in the world that gives lightness to your spirit.  Some of the weight comes out of life.  

Funnily enough, when I take the time to really feel grateful, colour becomes clearer and sharper, more nuanced and more beautiful.  

Everything does.  

And I’m so, so, so grateful for that.