A couple of months ago I wrote a post, #FuckCoke. This is not the same. This post fucks posts like that over, tears their soul out, throws it in a ditch, pours a spoonful of contempt over it and leaves it to rot. Warning given, continue at your own risk.
I have a colleague. I hope she won't mind me writing about her, but she keeps a blog (in Swedish) of her own where she writes about her struggles, so I'm going to assume she doesn't. She inspires me, which is why I want to share some of her story to remind us of a silly little thing called life.
Some time has passed since she found out she has leukemia. It is not the first time she gets these news. She has been sick before. I was at a happiness seminar at work when my boss tells me to come upstairs. Talk about life's irony. We learn she won't be coming back for a long time. Silence. Shock. Tears.
I know she's been writing her blog, but I can't bring myself to read it. I know that when I finally do, it won't be pretty and so I put it off like a coward. Like a scared little mouse I hide from the words that I know will snap around my neck like a mousetrap, suffocating me in despair. So I keep putting it off, pretending it's not there. Until yesterday.
I make the utter foolish mistake of reading her blog and it's like the light of day disappears, like the earth is emptied of life, leaving only anguish. I read her words that turn to a blurry smudge while tears fill my eyes. I feel guilty for my tears. How do I dare cry when she is the one in the hospital? I want to throw the computer out the window, scream to this cruel world that breeds sickness and hate and disease. Why are people who spread so much light beaten down time and time again? I curl up under my covers, feel helpless. It's so unfair.
It's so fucking unfair!
In one of her posts she talks about a story, Who Will Comfort Toffle. Toffle is piteous little creature alone in a dark and scary world. She says she feels like Toffle. Alone in her hospital bed at night she feels the heaviness of the dark, the weight of her fear. My heart twitches and wrenches while reading her words. I feel contempt toward the world, toward the entire universe. People are literally running through life and for what?
It is like we do not realize that life is right in front of us, in every heartbeat. In every moment. Do we only understand that when our heart is threatening no longer to beat? When the moment in front of us may be the very last. Is it the irony of life, the wickedness of our existence that we only learn to appreciate life once it threatens to leave us?
A couple of weeks ago I see my news feed on Facebook fill up with the same picture. I go to her timeline and I'm breathless. A sunflower with the words "Fuck Cancer" written on it, and over it "The world needs Jenni". I keep scrolling down but the pictures never seem to end, forming a virtual garden of sunflowers. Her friends, family and others that feel the need to show their appreciation of her, have taken pictures of themselves wearing a "Fuck Cancer" shirt. They have all changed their profile picture to this picture and tagged her in it to fill her profile with flowers.
Someone might say that this is the power of social media, but I disagree. This is the power of people who care. Of people who still give a shit about a silly little thing called life. Of people who stop to take time to give, not wanting anything in return. Except perhaps that God step down from heaven for a while to take one look at this beautiful person and stop this twisted game.
I keep reading her blog. I can taste her sickness while my throat thickens. But then she does what she always does. She dazzles with her positive attitude, amazes with her spirit, puts us all to shame with her incredible fire. She answers her own question. Who will comfort Toffle? Everyone, she says.
Everyone. Always. All the time.
Whatever you were doing before you started reading this, whatever you were thinking, by now I'm guessing you're thinking one of two things. One, you think I'm an emotional wreck of a person and you can't believe you wasted all this time reading this sentimental crap. If this is the case I suggest you stop reading right now, I promise you it won't get any better. On the other hand, you might be thinking that your own struggles and problems are worthless crap compared to the struggles of a woman, fighting cancer for the third time. Fighting for her life. It's not. Everything that you feel is important in your life is. However, there are a few things to consider before closing the Internet and going back to glance at the newspaper while watching The Biggest Looser and tweeting about whatever is hot right now.
First, life is so fucking precious. Every day you wake up is a victory. Everyday should be memorable. Second, why are we in such a hurry all the time? The more we hurry, the faster the end will come. Instead, slow down and enjoy the moment. Third, every single thought of hate or anger is one less thought of love or compassion, so concentrate on the good, not the bad. And last, your life is now. Every second you use on unimportant crap is one less second lived, so use every second wisely. Care. Feel. Hope. Give. Love. Dream. Laugh.
She inspires me with her words, with her positivism, with her life. Even in her struggles she inspires me. With every vibrating muscle, every inch of my body I hope for her recovery. There is nothing I can do, except hope and believe that she's gonna be OK, because the world needs people that fill it with good. That Care. That Feel. That Hope. That Gives. That Loves. That Dreams. That Laughs.
The world does need Jenni.
#FuckCancer
I have a colleague. I hope she won't mind me writing about her, but she keeps a blog (in Swedish) of her own where she writes about her struggles, so I'm going to assume she doesn't. She inspires me, which is why I want to share some of her story to remind us of a silly little thing called life.
Some time has passed since she found out she has leukemia. It is not the first time she gets these news. She has been sick before. I was at a happiness seminar at work when my boss tells me to come upstairs. Talk about life's irony. We learn she won't be coming back for a long time. Silence. Shock. Tears.
I know she's been writing her blog, but I can't bring myself to read it. I know that when I finally do, it won't be pretty and so I put it off like a coward. Like a scared little mouse I hide from the words that I know will snap around my neck like a mousetrap, suffocating me in despair. So I keep putting it off, pretending it's not there. Until yesterday.
 |
| Who Will Comfort Toffle? by Tove Jansson |
I make the utter foolish mistake of reading her blog and it's like the light of day disappears, like the earth is emptied of life, leaving only anguish. I read her words that turn to a blurry smudge while tears fill my eyes. I feel guilty for my tears. How do I dare cry when she is the one in the hospital? I want to throw the computer out the window, scream to this cruel world that breeds sickness and hate and disease. Why are people who spread so much light beaten down time and time again? I curl up under my covers, feel helpless. It's so unfair.
It's so fucking unfair!
In one of her posts she talks about a story, Who Will Comfort Toffle. Toffle is piteous little creature alone in a dark and scary world. She says she feels like Toffle. Alone in her hospital bed at night she feels the heaviness of the dark, the weight of her fear. My heart twitches and wrenches while reading her words. I feel contempt toward the world, toward the entire universe. People are literally running through life and for what?
It is like we do not realize that life is right in front of us, in every heartbeat. In every moment. Do we only understand that when our heart is threatening no longer to beat? When the moment in front of us may be the very last. Is it the irony of life, the wickedness of our existence that we only learn to appreciate life once it threatens to leave us?
 |
| The world needs Jenni! |
A couple of weeks ago I see my news feed on Facebook fill up with the same picture. I go to her timeline and I'm breathless. A sunflower with the words "Fuck Cancer" written on it, and over it "The world needs Jenni". I keep scrolling down but the pictures never seem to end, forming a virtual garden of sunflowers. Her friends, family and others that feel the need to show their appreciation of her, have taken pictures of themselves wearing a "Fuck Cancer" shirt. They have all changed their profile picture to this picture and tagged her in it to fill her profile with flowers.
Someone might say that this is the power of social media, but I disagree. This is the power of people who care. Of people who still give a shit about a silly little thing called life. Of people who stop to take time to give, not wanting anything in return. Except perhaps that God step down from heaven for a while to take one look at this beautiful person and stop this twisted game.
 |
| The Virtual Garden |
I keep reading her blog. I can taste her sickness while my throat thickens. But then she does what she always does. She dazzles with her positive attitude, amazes with her spirit, puts us all to shame with her incredible fire. She answers her own question. Who will comfort Toffle? Everyone, she says.
Everyone. Always. All the time.
Whatever you were doing before you started reading this, whatever you were thinking, by now I'm guessing you're thinking one of two things. One, you think I'm an emotional wreck of a person and you can't believe you wasted all this time reading this sentimental crap. If this is the case I suggest you stop reading right now, I promise you it won't get any better. On the other hand, you might be thinking that your own struggles and problems are worthless crap compared to the struggles of a woman, fighting cancer for the third time. Fighting for her life. It's not. Everything that you feel is important in your life is. However, there are a few things to consider before closing the Internet and going back to glance at the newspaper while watching The Biggest Looser and tweeting about whatever is hot right now.
First, life is so fucking precious. Every day you wake up is a victory. Everyday should be memorable. Second, why are we in such a hurry all the time? The more we hurry, the faster the end will come. Instead, slow down and enjoy the moment. Third, every single thought of hate or anger is one less thought of love or compassion, so concentrate on the good, not the bad. And last, your life is now. Every second you use on unimportant crap is one less second lived, so use every second wisely. Care. Feel. Hope. Give. Love. Dream. Laugh.
She inspires me with her words, with her positivism, with her life. Even in her struggles she inspires me. With every vibrating muscle, every inch of my body I hope for her recovery. There is nothing I can do, except hope and believe that she's gonna be OK, because the world needs people that fill it with good. That Care. That Feel. That Hope. That Gives. That Loves. That Dreams. That Laughs.
The world does need Jenni.
#FuckCancer
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