Last year, on February 13th, I jumped out of a plane. Yes. I went skydiving.
I was on the cusp of age 35. I was on the cusp of being free from cancer’s grip for a year. I was high on the gift of life. It only seemed right to jump out of a perfectly good {small and shakey, yes. But good, just the same} plane.
I vowed that I would keep living. Every day.
Every single day.
And I do still think I do a pretty good job of that. Of the whole living thing. But also, I’m somewhat back to reality. The place where money doesn’t grow on trees and life includes real responsibilities and stuff.
I also vowed that I would do something EVERY year. EVERY year. I would do something that would mark time. Celebrate another year. And look fear in the face.
I am now on the cusp of age 36. I am now on the cusp of being two years post-cancer. And so, it’s time to fear factor myseslf again.
Here’s my truth: I want to live like I’m dying every day. I really do. If I could just go do all the things, I would. I would see all the places. I would try all the stuff. I would eat all the food. I would experience everything I could.
I think that’s probably what we all want out of life, right?
But on my anniversaries, both of my life — my birthday {feb 22} — and of my mastectomy {feb 25} — the day I was pathologically free of cancer, I want to live even more. I want to do things I love. And to never let fear keep me from doing something a little big bigger.
…
You may know that I have a guitar. I was gifted said guitar on my 25th birthday from my sweet husband. It was my goal to learn how to play it before I was 30. No big deal, right? 5 years! Surely I could make that happen. Except I didn’t. I ended up not picking up the guitar or taking a single lesson until after I had carried three babes in the Brehm belly.
And then I started. And man. It was super hard. Way harder than I gave it credit for. But luckily my teacher and friend, Val, was patient. And after about 6 months, I had learned the strumming and enough notes to put out a few songs. It was this thing that I loved.
BOOM.
Cancer.
Gosh. Darn. It.
Cancer.
I put my lessons on hold but continued to play at home.
And now, after two years out, I decided that while I will never be star quality, I just want to play. Sing my songs. Share my words. Why? Because I love it. Because it scares me. And it’s silly because you know why it scares me? Because I wonder what people will think. Will they think I think I’m super good and talented? Will people think I’m the worst? Will people think I am an attention hound? Will they think I should just stop with the guitar? Because seriously… I can’t even pick. I can only strum a bit.
WHO. CARES.
That is what cancer taught me to say… who cares?
The things we love to do, that we enjoy, that fill us up, if those things are healthy and safe and legal, well, I don’t think those things should be given the power to scare us. Instead, we should just do them.
I’m not gonna be the next American Idol. Clearly. Because I’m almost 36. But also, I’m not a professional musician. But. I love to play. So I’m gonna do just that.
And sheesh. If Elizabeth Swaney can participate in the Olympics because she likes to ski then I’d say we all might as well do the things we like, love, and enjoy. Right?
I didn’t want to take myself too seriously and attempt an actual “concert”… this is rather just some light listening music for those walking through or sitting a spell. But it’s something. And I’m appreciative to get to check it off my list.
Don’t let fear freeze you. Let it fuel you.
Don’t let it FREEZE you. Let it light a fire in you.
As the very brilliant Mr Nike says, “Just do it.”
So. On Monday, the 26th of Feb, I will go strum and sing. I will tell little bits of my story. Of how the music I have learned to play helped me through treatment and through tough days. I will talk about how picking up the guitar felt empowering. And how getting to sing has always brought me joy. Because, after all, I think that if God puts a song in our heart, we are meant to sing it. Loud and proud.
It will be short to anyone looking on. It will feel big to me. And it will be me marking my milestone. In my own way.
I went skydiving last year. This year’s big challenge is somehow scarier. But I’m going to relish the reality that I am here and do the things that feel a little scary. Or a lot:).
And then, maybe throughout the year, I will get the opportunity to do other experiences or things that scare the pants off of me like scuba diving or playing that alligator tooth game from 1992. I sure to goodness hope so. And maybe those things will seem less scary because I know how to do the crazy stuff. And to just totally go for it.
I am on the cusp of two years of too many blessings and fortunes to really count. I am on my way to at least 40… or 50 more. And each and every year… and hopefully each and every day… I will remind myself to say, “Who cares?” and go big or go home:).
{Thanks to Nebraska Med and Healing Arts for allowing me to share my story and my tunes. It will be much warmer than standing down in the Old Market this time of year:).}
…
Anyone is welcome to pop in. Anyone is welcome to sing along. And we all are welcomed and reminded to just do life each and every day.
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