Put me outside the "I fought cancer," the "I beat cancer" talk.  Put me outside the conception of cancer as sparring partner.  That's not how it is.  I MADE cancer.  Somebody had to cut it out of me, and I was grateful, but the cancer was me.  My body humbled me, terrified me, put my brain through its paces and in the end it taught me.  Showed me things I have never seen.  

For a person who is already always existentially crisising, this was not just that.  This was something experiential, not just theoretical.  Like when I lost my baby, I felt like a wounded animal.  Around me the world became more real, came into focus.  My senses sharpened.  I could feel oblivion all around the edges of everything, waiting.  

You have to make friends with what's waiting or you can never relax.  Not saying I've done it, I just know it has to be that way if you're going to have real peace.  This got me closer, that's for sure.  Look how each blade of grass shines and turns, feel the facility of breathing, sit down to have a pee and get up again. Again, and again and again.  Every moment is a miracle.  Every moment is borrowed from the thing that's waiting.