Part six. Looking back after radiation treatment and finding strength, gratitude and joy.

When summer arrived, I could suddenly see the whole of spring. It had felt long while I was living it. Looking back, it felt both surprisingly short and endlessly long . A chapter in life. One that had begun in January with an unexpected phone call and unfolded through examinations, doctor’s appointments, scans, a bone marrow biopsy, radiation treatment, and finally the strange feeling of actually being ill.

Standing at the threshold of summer, I could suddenly see what had passed. And I realized how much I had been through. During those months I had been deeply present. One appointment at a time. One examination at a time. One treatment at a time.

Of course I had felt tired. But now something else arrived. A quiet wave of recognition. I had actually been through something difficult. Along with that realization came gratitude.

Gratitude for Jörgen, for my children, my family, my friends, and everyone who had quietly stood beside me. For Jörgen, who came to every appointment and held my hand whenever I needed him. For friends and colleagues who offered a hug, sent a message, or simply let me know they were thinking of me.

And gratitude for something else. For the tools I have spent years cultivating. Yoga. Meditation. Breath. Yoga philosophy. Practices I have studied, returned to, and slowly woven into everyday life. Only now did I truly understand how deeply rooted they had become. They weren’t techniques I had to remember. They were simply there. Supporting me through every appointment, every examination, every treatment, and every day and night in between.

Summer unfolded with sunshine and rain, time with family and friends, yoga at the beach, and hours in the garden. The days blended gently into one another. But something had changed. There was a lightness I had been longing for.

A quiet happiness. A simple presence. Something had opened inside me. Nothing dramatic. Almost as if nothing had happened. I slept deeply. I smiled without thinking about it. Conversations flowed effortlessly. I wasn’t living inside my head. I was simply here.

Happy. Kind. Present.

My body felt strong again. Hours of heavy gardening no longer exhausted me. Practicing yoga on the beach felt powerful. There was no pain. No aching. Only strength. A calm, grounded strength. I don’t think I have ever quite experienced this before. To feel completely whole.

Strong. Alive. Without fear.

Would I have arrived here without everything that happened this spring? Would this happiness have found me anyway, without the cancer? Or do the darker seasons of our lives sometimes allow us to see the light more clearly? As if darkness helps us recognize the light that was there all along.

I don’t know. But I know that I am deeply grateful for how I feel today. I also know that life will change again. Joy and sorrow will continue to take turns. Health and illness. Ease and struggle. That is life. And I will need to follow its highs and lows. Accepting feelings in life is important but it doesn’t mean pretending everything is fine. It means allowing every feeling to be what it is. Giving ourselves permission to feel. Giving ourselves time to feel. To stop long enough to be aware of what we are actually feeling. Sounds so simple. And yet always a practice.

In a few weeks, I will return to the hospital for my first follow-up appointment after treatment.

And once again, life will invite me into the unknown.

…

This is the sixth reflection in a series about receiving a diagnosis and learning to live with the unknown.