LOOKING INTO THE VOID

In alternative medicine I've encountered a strong belief, especially in relation to cancer, that a fighting spirit, a refusal to give up on life, leads to better outcomes. I'm certain there's some truth in that, and I do believe I can influence, to some extent, how long I live - although some of the positive-thinking brigade make it sound as though all unhappiness, suffering or death is caused solely by insufficient positive mental attitude, conveniently ignoring the fact that plenty of negative or fearful or miserable people live till old age, and that even the most positive people still have to die at some point. Since my diagnosis, despite believing that I hadn't long left (which was also the medical prognosis at the time), I haven't really allowed myself to think about death at all - partly it because it seems so abstract, and partly because all around me is this exhortation to be positive: from other patients, from cancer survivors' memoirs, from my therapists, from every book I read; and reinforced by friends and family congratulating me on how upbeat I seem (and desperately wanting me to be, or seem, alright). I know all of these are intended to be encouraging, and often the message "you can do it" is indeed inspiring and supportive; but at times it can be a huge pressure (oh no, not only am I feeling frustrated / resentful / low / stressed / self-pitying, but also I've failed to stay positive, and if I let negativity creep in it will make me more ill, and it'll be all my fault....)


And in the past year I've come to realise that at least some of my "positive attitude" is actually not positive at all but reflects a belief that it's terrifying and unthinkable to die, and that I mustn't ever allow it to happen to me. I've somehow slipped into viewing death as something to be staved off with willpower, which leaves me feeling almost totally responsible for keeping myself alive (ideally indefinitely). I guess it's a kind of superstitious belief, and since it demands constant vigilance it's exhausting. It's also quite scary (what if I'm not doing enough?), and it makes it hard to enjoy things (including being relatively well at the moment) in case I tempt fate by relaxing and thinking things are OK, and thus cause everything to go pear-shaped. And of course I'm setting myself up for failure, as - whether it's sooner or later, from cancer or something else - I will still die. (Obviously I've always known this intellectually, but I think I've been trying to convince myself that I can make sure it doesn't happen if only I eat the right food / do the right treatments / refuse to countenance the mere possibility....) 

Although this attitude has probably served me reasonably well up to now, it's pretty hard work, and probably isn't the best use of my mental energy, especially at the moment. So I decided it was time to plunge into the murkier bits of my psyche, and signed up for a weekend workshop exploring death and dying, with the aim of facing the fears, making some kind of peace with the fact that we're all finite beings, and hopefully becoming able to live without constantly worrying about whether I'm fending off death well enough. I found the workshop very helpful, and although naturally it was quite intense at times, and certainly brought up a lot of emotions, it was very clearly life-affirming: what I took from it was that by accepting the fact of death, and the impossibility of knowing when it may come, it should be possible to live with less anxiety about it. Similarly, by no longer fighting the fact that everything's impermanent, and wasting energy worrying how long it'll be till things change, it becomes easier to fully enjoy things while they last. I'm not there yet, but I'm perhaps a few steps closer! 


I also found it particularly helpful to remember that it's not just me who's facing this - yes, it may be that not many of my peers are thinking much about it right now, but being reminded that mortality is universal (not a tragedy which affects only poor little me) was something I found very reassuring and comforting. I think that being able to face doing the workshop at all was a significant step - previously I think I was afraid that if I accepted that death is inevitable (for us all), it would automatically mean giving up on life, or no longer seeing any point to living or fighting for health. (I've also found that people who care about me often have mixed feelings about me delving into this area, in case it's a sign of me "giving up hope" or in case it upsets me.) However I think it's probably more like the opposite - that acknowledging that death is natural and not a sign of failure allows one to embrace life more fully - and I found the weekend left me with quite a noticeable sense of relief. (The workshop's held a couple of times a year, so if anyone's interested in more details about it, let me know, or have a look at the website www.livinganddying.co.uk.)

I must admit I didn't tell many people exactly what the course was about - it felt not quite the thing to drop into social chitchat! - and I'm aware that it's not only me who finds death a difficult topic, so I'm sorry if this post is hard to read (though I'm guessing no-one reads this blog for light entertainment!) So I'll do my usual smoothing-over in order to finish on a more cheery note (of course with some nice pictures): the course was held in the far west of Cornwall, and having never been to that part of the country before I took the opportunity to rent a self-catering apartment and stay a couple of nights longer. I hired a car and spent a day exploring Lands End, Penzance and St Ives. I loved the feel of the place, wild yet peaceful, and it was great having a bit of time to process things and let them settle before going back into mundane life. 

View from my apartment over Cape Cornwall

The coastal walk just north of Lands End

St Ives harbour

Spectacular sunset (no metaphorical meaning intended!)

TECHNICAL MATTERS

A few people have told me that they haven't been able to leave comments on the blog - I've checked that all the settings are correct, and as far as I can tell it should work OK now. You need to click on the words "0 comments" (or "1 comment" or whatever) at the bottom of what I've written, next to "Posted by Sylvia", and that will open a new window with a box where you can type your comment. Just click inside the box on the words, "Enter your comment", and you can start typing. Underneath the box it says "Comment as" followed by a drop-down menu - if you have a Google profile you can sign in, or else you can select "Anonymous" - though if you do this, please include your name in the comment box, otherwise I'll have no idea who it's from!


Other people have told me they like reading the blog but don't know how often to check it  - and I realise I do tend to have flurries of activity, rather than writing regularly - so although I'm completely at sea with all the new technology out there, last night I bit the bullet and spent a couple of hours trawling the internet to try and find out how to add the facility for subscribing to the blog. Eventually I found how to do this, and my understanding of it is that if you become a subscriber you'll get notified whenever there's new content on the blog - that is, if I've set things up correctly! 


You'll see that there are now two links on the top right corner of the blog. If you click on the top one, "Subscribe to Sylvia's news by email", it'll open a new window and invite you to enter your email address - then you'll get an email every time I put anything new on the blog. (I think it actually sends you what I've written in the email, but I'm not sure as I haven't tried it out myself - it would feel a bit sad to be the first subscriber to my own blog!) I don't think you can leave comments directly from the email feed, as it's called, but if you click on the title of the post (e.g. "Technical matters") you'll be taken straight into the main blog.


If you have other news sources already streamed into one place, you can add this blog by clicking on the second link "Subscribe in a reader" next to the orange and white icon. This option is good if you prefer to reduce emails and if you stream all the websites you read regularly into a single location. If you do this, then by definition you already know way more about it than I do, so I won't embarrass myself by trying to explain it any further! 


I hope that this makes it easier to keep up with what I'm writing here, if you'd like to. If things don't work as they should, please do let me know (either on the blog or by email), and although I'm not sure whether I'll be able to find the solution, I'll certainly do my best!