Life, in its most serene moments, often goes unnoticed. The simple routine of waking up, drinking a cup of coffee, walking through familiar streets, or laughing with loved ones may seem unremarkable.
But when life's equilibrium is shattered by a disruptive force -- a cancer diagnosis, the loss of a loved one, or a life-altering event -- the concept of "normal" transforms into a distant, almost mythical ideal. Trying to rediscover this "normal" is arduous and enlightening, leading us not back to what was but to what can be.
The new normal is not a return to the past but a reimagining of the future. It is a life lived with greater intention, gratitude, and awareness. It is the understanding that normality itself is magical -- a fragile yet profound gift.
When life is disrupted, the initial instinct is often to strive to return to how things used to be. The routines we once complained about become the very routines we yearn for. However, this yearning is often met with the realization that we can never truly return. The life we knew, the person we were, and the perspectives we held are irrevocably altered.
This shift is not a failure but a transformation. As the Persion philosopher Rumi said "Try not to resist the changes that come your way. Let life live through you." These changes -- though often born of pain -- carry within them the seeds of growth and a deeper understanding of life's essence.
When I was diagnosed with cancer, I couldn't believe it. At first, I was in complete denial, refusing to accept that this was happening to me. Then came the overwhelming fear of death -- the thought that I might not survive this, that my son might grow up without me, and that my family would have to find a way to live without my presence.
The dreams and plans I had for my life felt shattered. I was a businesswoman, constantly moving from one meeting to another, making decisions, and running around to ensure everything was on track. My life had been a whirlwind of productivity and purpose. Suddenly, time came to a standstill.
Instead of bringing my son to school in the mornings or sharing dinner with him and my family at night, I found myself spending hours in the hospital for chemotherapy. The treatments left me exhausted, confined to my bed for days, unable to move or participate in the life I once led. The pain was beyond anything I could have imagined -- not just physical pain but the emotional anguish of losing my normal life.
One of the hardest parts was realizing that, despite having all day and night at home, I couldn't spend meaningful time with my son. I had wanted more time with him when I was busy with work, but now that I had it, I couldn't be present. The chemotherapy drained my energy and my spirit. It was a cruel irony that forced me to confront my limitations and the fragility of life.
In the depths of my illness, I had to learn to accept a new reality -- a new normal. The life I had before was gone, replaced by a life that revolved around treatments, recovery, and survival. It wasn't an easy transition. Acceptance didn't come naturally; it came through tears, frustration, and the realization that fighting against this new reality was only draining what little strength I had left.
As time passed, I began to see life differently. The little things I once took for granted became profound gifts: a moment of laughter with my family, a pain-free afternoon, or simply being able to sit in the garden and feel the sun on my face. The normalcy I had lost was no longer possible, but a new kind of normal began to emerge -- one defined not by what I could do but by how I could cherish the moments I still had.
The fear of death never truly leaves you after a cancer diagnosis. Even after treatment, the fear of recurrence looms like a shadow. It's a constant companion, whispering doubts and anxieties. What if the cancer comes back? What if this isn't the end of the battle?
Yet, over time, I learned to coexist with this fear. Rumi's words offered comfort: "Be like a tree and let the dead leaves drop." I realized that holding on to my fear only magnified it. Letting go didn't mean ignoring the possibility of recurrence but choosing not to let it define my life.
This shift in perspective allowed me to focus on the present. I began to cherish each moment, not because I was certain of the future but because I understood the value of now. The laughter and the support of my family, and even the quiet moments of solitude, became treasures I had overlooked before.
Cancer forced me to confront mortality in a way I never had before. It stripped away the illusions of control and invincibility, leaving me face-to-face with the raw essence of life. But as Rumi teaches, "The wound is the place where the light enters you."
In the midst of pain and fear, I discovered a resilience I didn't know I possessed. I learned that even when life brings you to your knees, there is a strength within you to rise again. The businesswoman who once measured success by achievements and accolades now found meaning in resilience, love, and gratitude.
Accepting my new normal didn't mean giving up on life; it meant embracing it differently. It meant recognizing that life's beauty lies not in its perfection but in its impermanence. Cancer taught me to let go of the need for control and to find peace in its unpredictability.
This acceptance transformed my fear into appreciation. It allowed me to rebuild my life with intention and purpose, focusing on what truly mattered: my family and the simple joys of everyday life.
Rediscovering JoyRediscovering the magic of normal was not about returning to the life I had before cancer but about creating a new life infused with gratitude and awareness. Each day became a gift, each moment an opportunity to savor the beauty of simply being alive.
Normal, I realized, is not a fixed state. It is fluid, evolving with us as we navigate life's challenges. The new normal I created was not defined by what I had lost but by what I had gained -- a deeper understanding of life's fragility and a profound appreciation for its fleeting beauty.
Rediscovering the magic of normal is a journey through pain, acceptance, and transformation. My battle with cancer forced me to confront the fear of loss, the anguish of change, and the uncertainty of the future. But it also gave me the gift of perspective, resilience, and a renewed sense of purpose.
The normal I once knew may be gone, but the new normal I've created is no less magical. It is a testament to the human spirit's capacity to adapt, grow, and find beauty despite life's greatest challenges.