We got back yesterday from a 9-day family holiday to Gili Trawangan near Bali, which was planned as a trip to celebrate the end of my cancer treatment.
A few times during the holiday, I wondered if I were making the most of this trip. I’d be lying alone on the massive canopied day bed on the terrace, feeling the cool breeze and listening to the waves on the beach, and wonder if I were supposed to come to some cathartic realization about the meaning of life, my mortality, the nature of the universe. Instead, I read novels and mindless magazines while munching on peanuts.
One morning, I woke up just before sunrise and thought I should go for a solitary walk on the beach to see the sun come up and have an introspective moment to ponder and reflect on my life. Isn’t someone in my situation supposed to have deep thoughts and take stock of her life -- the past, the future, hopes and dreams and such? I felt like I’d be forcing it. Plus, it was a bit chilly. So I stayed in bed and dozed off again instead.
Am I wasting precious time? Should I be searching for meaning, for God, or something bigger than my pre-cancer understanding of life? Or do I save that for when I really think I might die? Because these days, I’m too busy stressing about our house renovations, family finances, whether the kids are getting a balanced diet, whether I can fit all my activities into my days. I don’t have time for introspection. Maybe I’ll put that on my TO DO list for when I’m incapacitated and no longer have any choice but to lie in bed with nothing but my thoughts, whenever that may be.
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