"...when we finally know we are dying, and all other sentient beings are dying with us, we start to have a burning, almost heartbreaking sense of the fragility and preciousness of each moment and each being, and from this can grow a deep, clear, limitless compassion for all beings." ~ Sogyal Rinpoche
Across the board, everyone I know has been surprised and sorry to hear about my breast cancer. However, there seems to be some differences in focus. Some people (mainly men, I think) are primarily concerned with what it feels like to face the prospect of losing a breast. "I can't imagine what you must be going through," they say. "Losing a breast!" Others ask me regularly if I'm thinking about my own mortality. I find myself having to examine these questions, even though I seem to be living a sort of half life since I was diagnosed. I'm not feeling much about anything these days.
A young woman who just moved in across the street from me was raped a couple of weeks ago. She came home from running errands on a Sunday morning and found a naked man in her home. My friends and my therapist expected me to be afraid after it occurred. I'm certain I must have looked askance at such an assumption. I wasn't afraid, not even before they caught him. I was cautious, of course, but I'm always cautious. I'm always aware of what's going on in my surroundings. I work out five days a week and I taught myself to stand up tall, I cultivated a vigorous walk. When I make eye contact, it's clear that you do not want to fuck with me.
Besides, why be afraid at this point? I'm far more concerned about long term survival than short term pain. Or even long term pain. I experienced sexual assault many times as a child. I lived through long years of terror of extreme physical violence. I watched someone I loved being tortured. One of my good friends commented a couple of years ago that I have a backbone of steel. At the time, I was a little puzzled.
Now I rely on that steeliness to steady my panic about how long I'll be here, how much time I'll have to grow my limitless compassion.