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A friend of mine was diagnosed with breast cancer.

With increased treatment methods, and early detection, the survival rates are high.

I know this, but my mind wanders into the territory of worry. She has two young boys.

There will be no complaining today.

Sure my mind doesn’t always cooperate. At times I hear voices. At times my anxiety is so high I want to be out of my own skin. At times I want to shut my mind down completely. I have wanted to run, and I have wanted to hide. I have spent days in a hotel, away from my husband, because of delusions I was having. I have walked dangerous streets, because I didn’t know better. I have stood on bridges, and I have taken whole bottles of pills.

I have spent time isolated in psych wards.

This is no day for self-pity though.

An illness is an illness is an illness. It is all a battle for survival.  And in the end, we can only hope to go peacefully, no longer having an illness weigh us down.

It is a fine line for me, the one between rejoicing and suffering. There is so much to be grateful for – a tomato picked ripe and fresh from the garden, money to buy groceries for the week, flowers that bloom out of season, a walk in the sand, or in the city park, a bicycle ride along the bay.

Life is beautiful and tragic.

My story is no more interesting or important than your story. My suffering is no more significant than your suffering.

The beauty and tragedy we experience can be shared to ease the pain.

Create. Create wildly and passionately. Create freely and frequently. Create from your pain and from your beauty. Create from your brain and from your heart. Create, marvelous creatures, for it will join us all together in the symphony of life where we laugh and cry simultaneously.

Until there is no more time, create!