7 reasons to settle in and venture out

My niece recently posted this to my Facebook page (my niece knows me well):

She was an adventurer at heart; but oh how she loved drinking this tea from this mug in this chair. Oh how she loved home.

Photo credit: Pixabay

Walking into my sweet little guest house rental, after being out of town for a week, I experienced the pleasant sensation of being home. Even though it’s not my place, and it’s not furnished with my furniture, this is where I belong. For this season.

What a lovely word. Home.

And yet, there is the call to venture out and get back into speaking. I’ve been hesitant (read: fearful) because it would be different — harder, not as much fun — without Hubby.

And then three unsought-for speaking invitations. And Yes to all three.

Last Tuesday evening, I presented to the DEFEAT Cancer crowd at the hospital. And even though I made three huge gaffes, the audience was quite gracious (you’re wondering what the bloopers are, aren’t you?).

OK, OK, here’s my pathetic list:

1) For some unknown (OCD?) reason, I bent over and picked up a scrap of paper off the floor in the middle of my presentation with the videographer probably wondering where I’d disappeared to;

2) Because I have mild allergies, I stopped mid-stream to wipe my nose, which I’m sure will look quite pretty on video;

3) My earpiece microphone fell out toward the end of the presentation. I couldn’t get it back around my ear at first try, which detracted from the build-up to the end of the talk.

(Really, who in the audience cares if you lose your earpiece or clean up trash in the middle of your presentation? You’re the only one who cares, so get on with it.)

Venturing out and settling in. These terms may seem contradictory, but from our experience with cancer, here are 7 reasons for enjoying the best of both worlds:

1. Finding meaning and purpose. Hubby and I set about establishing a non-profit and sharing our story. I contacted other survivors and caregivers from across the country and asked if I could write their inspiring stories; we published a book. I started blogging — mainly to let family and friends know how Gary was doing … but also to poke fun of him. These were some of the things we did with the intent of supporting others in their cancer journeys. Hubby used to say that being able to offer encouragement gave him a big boost.

2. Taking charge over fear. As most of you know, Hubby was the type who would pay to not have to speak in front of crowds. Me? My stomach ties up in knots before every speaking engagement. Once we warmed up to the crowd, though, we thoroughly enjoyed the encouraging aspect of what we were doing. The most challenging piece was the facing-down-of-our-fears. Which we did. Because we were compelled to find purpose and meaning.

3. Battling mediocrity. Cancer says, You knew you weren’t going to live forever — but I’m here to say, “No, really … you’re not going to live forever.” Gary and I had discussions around what we wanted to do based on the physician’s two-year projection. We didn’t know those two years would extend to three, to five, to ten. We looked for service-full things that would fit our skill sets and interests. We served through speaking and writing, through volunteer work, through offering one-on-one peer support. Because people matter more than things. And because we didn’t want the remaining days together to be mediocre.

4. Creating adventure. The by-product of establishing the non-profit and sharing hope was the opportunity for adventure. We’d book speaking engagements say, in Connecticut, Massachusetts and Vermont so we could explore along the New England back roads. We looked for speaking opportunities in Jackson, Wyoming, so we could hike the Tetons. We spoke in Arizona so we could visit the Grand Canyon. You’ll never be sorry for the adventures you take with the people you love. The memories, the smiles and gladness of heart when I look back over photos — no one can take these from me.

5. Expanding friendships. In nearly every place, we met gracious people and have kept in touch. In Vermont, we stayed in a lovely studio apartment over a garage, lined with bookshelves, falling asleep to the flicker of wood stove flame. An early-morning hike with our host through the surrounding wooded properties, hopping split rail fences, looped us back by the chicken coop and — while we chatted at the kitchen island — our host whipped up a breakfast of fresh eggs. On account of Hubby’s cancer and stepping out of comfortable spaces, my world is richer with all these people.

6. Paying attention. Whether on the road or coming home, cancer taught us to take note of what was going on around us in that moment. Mountain blooms above the tree line framed by a blur of cascading waters. A buffalo leading a slow parade of RVs down a Yellowstone highway. The sweetness of returning home, of throwing in a load of laundry, choosing a new read from the piles of books, sipping honey-laced tea. Simple things. To which we paid attention.

7. Practicing appreciation. Part of paying attention is speaking or writing gratitude for those simple pleasures and experiences and people. I’ve mentioned starting a list of one thousand things I’m grateful for:

#114 – This perch above a green river; Alps across the way; prosciutto on seeded bun, apple, Swiss chocolate and writing pad

#238 – Four generations around this Thanksgiving table

#378 – Courage to continue book submissions — setting myself up for rejection

#439 – Hiking a new stretch of the Deschutes River trail

#453 – Fresh spring flowers in painted glass pitcher

On my way to counting to one thousand.

The best of both worlds includes venturing out and creating a space called home, a place to settle in and kick off your shoes and put your feet up on the furniture and nurse a steaming mug of tea.

I wish you many adventures — taking risks and trying new things and cultivating new friendships; I wish you an inviting place called home; I wish you the best of both worlds.

What about you? What adventure would you like to add to your life? What’s the first step to getting there? What can you do to make your home a more inviting place for you and the ones you love?

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