… might just be everything.
Having something to look forward to means you have hope. And when you have hope, your concern is focused on something positive that’s coming your way. Your outlook is bright (or in the very least there’s a bright crest of something on the horizon), and for a moment you’re cured.
I have something right now that I’m looking forward to.
No, I have two things. No three things!
1) The bowl of kale & quinoa & who-knows-what-else soup that just finished warming up that I suspect is going to be really good (but might need a bit more cayenne).
2) Going running with my friend after eating said soup and writing this sentence (and hopefully a few to follow so I feel like I’ve accomplished something today).
3) The original thing I was thinking about, and referring to above, which I may or may not reveal at this very moment…
Moo hoo ha ha ha! Not to get all suspensey (even though I’ve learned how well that trick works— human beings are suckers for temporary punishment in their entertainment [emphasis on the temporary]) but…
I’m looking forward to something. A lot. I’m excited about it, in fact.
And that makes me cured, right now at this very moment. Cured of despair or depression, of the veil and the fog and the cancer and the fear.
All because I have something to look forward to.
What an affordable cure, looking forward: it doesn’t cost a damn thing! And I suspect it may do the trick for things other than brain cancer: things like depression or rheumatoid arthritis or whatever-it-is-that-ails-you.
I suspect it’s a bit of a Free-Cure-For-All!
So find something to look forward to, if you don’t already have one.
And if you know about and care for someone who needs a cure (for anything), help them find something to look forward to. Give it to them, if you can. If you can’t, then help them find it. And help them keep it in sight (because that’s an utterly crucial aspect of this whole trick as well).
I read an article not so long ago that’s really stuck with me, about an older man in a terrible state of health who knew the end was coming and who nonetheless steadfastly refused to give up or even slow down. He lived to the end and he loved it (and was loved for it). And all because he had something to look forward to.
Remarkable how powerful that can be.
And so I gave myself something to look forward to, even though I was scared (and still am scared) that it wasn’t going to happen. And you know what? I don’t know if it’s going to happen, but I’m going to try, and I’m looking forward to it, and it’s putting the wind in my sails right now. Right at this very moment.
I hope it happens.
I hope, I’m cured.
(When I have hope, I am cured.)
PS: this kale & quinoa & who-knows-what-else soup is really good. And it did need a bit more cayenne.
PPS: And now that I’m finished gulping this soup down I’ve gotta run (literally), so I can get back to that 3rd thing I’m looking forward to.
PPPS: Here’s the aforementioned cat, out of the temporarily imposed bag: #3 is something I’m writing. Right now. After I’m done with this post & this soup & this run. It might be a musical.
It’s good to be busy.
It’s good to have things to do.
It’s good to have things to look forward to.
PPPPS: Physically & mentally, I’m also feeling a lot better these days, thanks for asking.
(Because a lot of you have asked, so thanks.)
The medications have been cut down, and I’m far enough away from the trauma of chemo/radiation/havingmyentireworldshattered that I’m starting to feel like… shhhhhhhh don’t tell anybody!
(A normal human being again!?)
I did almost have a smoothie yesterday, but that was only because of a mixup with my medication, and who’s afraid of smoothies anyway? Sometimes they make you SING!