Turbo-charged Wisdom

An unexpected impact of being diagnosed with breast cancer at the not so old age of 47 was that my wisdom got a turbo-charge. I was reminded of this recently as I watched the sunset on the summer solstice, reflected on the year so far, and wondering what truly mattered for the rest of the year.

This notion of wisdom gained first came to me when I returned to work after eight months of cancer treatment, half bald, emotionally and physically fragile. A colleague asked me:

“Now you've beaten cancer you must be planning all sorts of amazing things, like parachute jumps and travelling the world?”

I smiled, and my answer was one of those moments of clarity.

"No,” I said. “I've been lucky enough to have travelled a lot with work, and had some fabulous holidays, but actually I just want to enjoy the simple things life has to offer, because that's what life is really all about. Walks. Good coffee. A great bike ride. Admiring trees. Seeing my family and time with my friends. Cinema matinees. Cuddles with my cat. A slower pace. Less stress, looking after myself. That’s what feels right now.”

There’s an assumption that a life-altering diagnosis catapults us into big, dramatic adventures. And for some people it does. But what it can also do is turbo-charge the kind of wisdom we might otherwise have only discovered slowly, over decades. It compresses our learning, because we've been forced to confront what really matters.

When we have lost so much, so unexpectedly — our health, our appetite, hair falling out, mental health challenges, friends dropping by the wayside, our sense of safety — we discover what and whom we truly care about . We crave that which will nourish our mind, body and soul and turn away from that which drains us. We see that the daily, ordinary, quotidian moments are what really bring us wellness, joy and contentment.

Wisdom

noun

The quality of having experience, knowledge, and good judgement; the quality of being wise.

(Oxford English Dictionary, British English definition)

The Wisdom of What Really Matters

Often my clients will also reflect that their values and priorities have changed. Some say that having limited energy as a result of their treatment means they focus on how they really want to spend their energy (physical, mental and emotional).

• An instinct to protect our peace, grow our mental wellness. Office politics, spurious deadlines, trying to please everyone, worrying about the great time everyone else seems to be having on Instagram, the pressure to be youthful and attractive... When you've faced your own mortality and experienced the trauma of cancer treatment, all this stuff (and so much of it is just stuff) seems utterly pointless and at odds with what is good for us. The phrase "don't sweat the small stuff" now really makes sense.

• A deeper appreciation for nature – dappled light through trees, birdsong (how I love to hear blackbirds), bees busy collecting pollen, the scent of jasmine, waves lapping at our toes. It's a gift to witness another sunrise when you fear there may not be many more in your lifetime.

• A new gentleness and slower pace. Our lives are so rushed, so hectic, every hour of every day filled to bursting. But are we just busy fools?

• Who we really care about and who cares about us is brought in to sharp focus when we are ill. The ones that show up, check in, offer support, let us cry, make us laugh. They are life's true riches.

  
  

This leads to a shift in our values. I certainly realised that some parts of my life were not aligned with my values, with what mattered to me. This wisdom is pure gold.

Cancer may leave us with visible and invisible scars. But it can also show us a wiser way to live:

• Gratitude for small joys such as a walk without fatigue, a belly laugh, watching dogs roll in the grass, a cuppa and cake with a friend.

• A deep reverence for health, both physical and mental. We no longer take our minds and bodies for granted. What they have endured is remarkable. Sounds cheesy, but our good health is our wealth.

• The experience to know that "this too shall pass". Even the roughest of moments pass. We've been there.

• A new awareness of our time (which is not infinite), our boundaries (respecting them to protect ourselves), and where we want to spend our energy.

  
  

As Marcel Proust wrote:

“We do not receive wisdom, we must discover it for ourselves, after a journey through the wilderness which no one else can make for us, which no one can spare us, for our wisdom is the point of view from which we come at last to regard the world.”

To live life mindfully is to live it with wisdom

Wisdom isn’t about knowing all the answers - in fact it's wise to be open and willing to learn. But it is knowing your own values, and shaping a life that reflects them.