I work hard. I’m in love. I pour my heart into taking care of my friends and relatives. I show gratitude. I don’t own a TV. I pet my dog. I walk in crunching leaves. I try to eat well. I’m in touch with my emotions. I read. I vote. I educate myself. Shit happens too. And I deal. Whether I want to or not. Whether it is easy or not. Whether there are solutions or not. I don’t concern myself too much with self-help checklists for living the good life. This may sound incredibly arrogant, but I think I’ve got it down. Or at least I thought I had the good life down. Until last night.
Last night when I hit play on a Girl Talk YouTube music video, I experienced a transformative moment (and believe me, I use quite sparingly new age babble like “transformative”). Flying from my limbs was full force dancing, the likes of which I have not choreographed since I was ten years old making up dances to Michael Jackson in Amy Burkoff’s basement. I did not care that my dining room blinds were up and my neighbors had full view. My world completely disappeared; I was one with Girl Talk.
I live the good life, but last night I was larger than life. A larger than life state of mind is not new to me, nor is it induced by the fact that I am a young adult living with cancer. In fact, the bullshit of cancer compounded by my current workload and family responsibilities has made me anything but a gushing spectacle of love and gratitude. I’m not into the ‘cancer made me a better person’ perspective. It’s just not true for me. I think I was a pretty good person to begin with.
What I am into is the perspective that every once in a while, a perfect moment occurs that helps me shed the skin of distress and fear and allows me forget my life for a while. You don’t have to have cancer, diabetes, cystic fibrosis, or any other kind of disability to tune into this kind of larger than life experience. All you have to do is listen to Girl Talk’s new album Feed The Animals.
“Everything Changes is, without doubt, the most forthright, emotionally sophisticated, and plain-old valuable book of its kind I've seen.”
November 27th, 2008 at 12:01 PM
I don’t get it. I had a hard time even understanding what was being said.
November 27th, 2008 at 1:05 PM
Thanks for your comment; let me clarify. (Rereading my post, I agree, in my Girl Talk endorphin rush, I wasn’t dishing out my most clear writing.) Take 2:
I hear so many cancer patients say that cancer has finally made them appreciate life to the fullest. My own experience was that I was doing life to the fullest before cancer, and continue to do so after cancer. I don’t want to be on my high horse, but I think I’ve got a damn good perspective on life. And then, one night I got swept away in a moment of Girl Talk music bliss that make me realize, hum, maybe I don’t have it all right. Maybe there is a bit more room in my life for those kind of out-of-body happiness moments. Maybe I more caught up in my own stress and bullshit than I care to admit.