Finding the Balance
//Equanamity//
Trigger Warning: Death and general sad stuff- might be tough for someone grieving
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I’ve reached what I thought would be a big precipice in my life, and I’ve come out on the other side. I thought today of all days would’ve killed me, but instead, I’ve never felt more alive, aware, mature, and, shockingly, happy.
My dad died in 2010, two weeks before my 16th birthday, from stage four colon cancer that had spread to his lungs and liver. Today is the 15th anniversary of his death, meaning that I've lived 15 years of my life with him and 15 without him. Of course, it’s devastating; how could it not be? It’s devastating to write this, but it’s equally as beautiful to be on this weird balance beam.
I’ve never shared this, but one night, my father held me as we both cried together while my siblings were asleep. All he could do was apologize for how he couldn’t be there for my high school and college graduations, my wedding, etc., because he knew he would die before then. I didn’t care about all of that stuff. All I cared about was that we were together in that moment and every day before and after that, but of course, I couldn’t stop the plea of a dying man. So I let him hold me, his firstborn, and cry.
The process of watching my father die taught me present awareness and living in the moment, even though I struggle with it sometimes. I didn’t know it then, but this was such an important life lesson: the moment right now is all there is.
I knew going into this year that I’d need to do a lot of work on myself. I’ve developed a routine to help with regular physical movement, better eating habits, and preparing my mind mentally for March 31st. Otherwise, I knew that today would be a lot harder if I didn’t properly prepare for it.
In preparation, I’ve also been reading a book called “The Places That Scare You” by Pema Chödrön, where she discusses the idea of equanimity in Buddhism as this:
Training in equanimity is learning to open the door to all, welcome all beings, inviting life to come visit. Of course, as certain guests arrive, we’ll feel fear and aversion. We allow ourselves to open the door just a crack if that’s all that we can presently do, and we allow ourselves to shut the door when necessary. Cultivating equanimity is a work in progress. We aspire to spend our lives training in the loving-kindness and courage that it takes to receive whatever appears—sickness, health, poverty, wealth, sorrow, and joy. We welcome and get to know them all.
I think learning to grieve at such a young age has taught me equanimity, to receive whatever life throws at me. I watch Nick Bare on Youtube, who also talks about his mom dying from cancer. When he is training for an Ironman or a marathon, he reminds himself that nothing will ever be as hard as her cancer fight. Nothing will be as hard as my father’s cancer battle. Nothing will be as hard as losing him. Life will only throw me the curve balls that I am capable of surviving.
That being said, I did do a kindness to myself to take the day off to really feel it. If you’ve ever seen Gilmore Girls, you might know about Luke’s Dark Day. On November 30th, the character Luke shuts down his diner for the anniversary of his father’s death. He cuts off contact with the outside world and vanishes for the day.
I did the same. I booked a day in Palmetto State Park to spend all day away from my phone and any other screens to paint, sit, and think in nature. And I enjoyed every single solitary moment of it. I also made my way to San Marcos to hang out on the water and visited my aunt who works at Buccee’s (and she gave me so many fudge samples at 7:30 in the morning, haha).







It’s only up from here, right? I’ve prepared myself the last 15 years to live without him, so what’s another 15? And another 15 after that?
Life will only ever throw you what you are capable of handling; remember that.





This is a beautiful and genuine reflection, thank youfor sharing. I am glad you made space to spend time with the memories and grief!!