I do have to give the first prize, however, to Amy Cooper Rodriguez (whoop whoop!), not simply for the comic relief of Ellen's clip "Dennis Quaid Needs a Tailor".......but also for her sheer persistence in sending me things to smile about. Amy, may your life forever be enriched and blessed by Will Ferrel's portrayal of a serious seventies newscaster and philosopher. Email me your address.
As for the runner's up - coming in in second place is Janet P. for this video called Laughing Yoga, which made me spit out my coffee. Watch it, although not while you're drinking anything.
And in third place, we have Barbara for her true story (I love funny, true stories!) called "The Lorax," which can be read in the comment sections here.
So, for the past 24 hours, I'd say I've been feeling a wee bit Scaredy, kind of like my friend Grover, here.
Fortunately, like Grover, part of me knows that what I'm scared of might not really turn out to be all that bad. Just like before surgery, when I imaged how awful it was going to be - I might wake up under anesthesia on the table but no one would hear my screams! Or my recovery would be agonizing!- none of which turned out to be.
But the unknown is scary.
One of the seemingly dumber things I did on the afternoon I got the shocking news that the cancer cells had made it to my lymph nodes was to sit in a darkened bedroom with my laptop and read celebrity obituaries for 2012-13. Why? I have no idea. Interestingly, this was not an upsetting experience - except in the use of the word "battle." Repeatedly, those that died were said to have "lost their battle" with cancer. The word "battle" pissed me off, as it sounded so harsh and bloody and tragic. The phrase also implied that those who died were, well, losers. They'd "lost."
I have no intention of fighting a battle. Some of you have said or written to me, "Kick cancer's ass." That's OK. I don't mind the idea of "kicking cancer's ass," but I plan to kick cancer's ass with loving kindness. I plan to go all Buddha-like on cancer's ass. So I've armed myself (no wait! see how easy it is to fall into the collective battle metaphor ?) I mean I'm readying myself with guided meditations and Pema Chodron's book When Things Fall Apart, in which she writes things like "Chaos should be regarded as extremely good news." And "The next time you encounter fear, consider yourself lucky." And, finally, "Every day, when things get edgy, we can just ask ourselves am I going to practice peace, or am I going to go to war?"
So I'm going to try to practice peace. I'm going to practice trying to stay in the present moment. And to breathe.
And to attempt to stop predicting the future.
And to whistle a happy tune
This, my friends,will be the new me (minus the long ears and hopefully the enormous belly.)