To Be, or Not To Be: A pre-transplant reflection on Life Goals

I originally posted this on social media 5 May 2011, which was just before my kidney transplant surgery. I was on outpatient hemodialysis three times a week, and I knew my life was on the threshold of unimaginable changes.  I’m still reflecting on what I know now compared to then, so this is just giving acknowledgement to that time.


“There’s no question that I’m in a bit of a headspace about how to process/navigate it all, and I’m not altogether comfortable with the role of my ego in all of this.  I will say though, I have enjoyed this process/experience infinitely more than judging myself on whether or not I had accomplished enough any particular day (go figure), and have truly valued this consideration of what is truly important to me.  There will always be laundry, or books about how to parent, or something I haven’t done yet for my husband/children/job/family/dear friends, etc., etc., etc.  But really, most of that is just the superficial distractions on top of the real work of living. 

To Be

1.  Breathe.  I am here, now.   I am alive, now.  I only have moments to live (specifically, this moment).  

2.  Nurture an open heart.   I believe this is my best/only hope for being free.

3.  Make deliberate choices which support my values.  I feel like I’ve come upon a 3-part rule which seems to me to be perfectly true:  (1) Decide to do that which will cause the least stress/pain later, (2) When in doubt, if only because it is the easiest remember: tell the truth, (3) Make the choice which is most consistent with what I want my best self to be.  I have yet to find a situation where these don’t apply.  

4.  Pay attention.  Combined with #1 or #2, I feel well aligned with a “Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.” (Ferris Bueller, 1986).  Ironically though, combined with #3 this is probably one of my strongest coping strategies.  Despite how it may appear, I do not consider myself to be an especially “optimistic” person.  I make very deliberate choices about what I’m going to pay attention to (how incredibly awesome and amazing the majority of my life is), and what I feel is less important in the grand scheme of my values.  

5.  Speak, listen, and be with silence.  Not necessarily in that order.

6.  Practice 1- 5 often.  None of these are achievable without cultivating them on purpose.  They may be simple, but they are not easy.

At some point it occurred to me that, as part of being a fan of balance, yin and yang, something/nothing, Shakespeare, I also have a solid list of what I think Life ISN’T about.

Not To Be

 1.  Life is not a chicken.  I don’t choose which parts I like and which parts I leave at the bottom of the bucket.  It’s all life. Whether you want to take a, “no waves, just ocean” view or a Paul’s letter to Corinthians, Chapter 12:12-27 (if you happen to take a religious stance), or a  “Nothing human is alien to me” (Terence) approach.  My life may, at times, seem grossly unnatural, or marked by pain or despair, or any number of descriptions that are not appealing or pleasant.  But denying or railing against what clearly is seems to me to be a waste of what time and energy I do have.  Applying this outwardly, I find that this belief joins with “nurture an open heart” and how I hope to receive other people’s experiences without judgment whenever possible.  It is not for me to say what is “right” of/for others, there is no benefit in doing so, and it ultimately pains me to be divided from others by those who would cultivate fear or hatred of difference.  

2.  Life is not a scoreboard.  I should do things because they reflect deliberate choices aligned with my values, and that is its own reward.

3.  Life is for living, not lists.  No matter how I try to craft the perfect summary of what I believe, or compose a sincere, ‘Everything I need to know I learned on Facebook,” poster, it would be better for me to log off and get back to the real work of living.  A segment of a Warren Miller documentary profiling paraplegic extreme skiers, one had written “Die Living” on his sit ski and I can’t help but feel that he’s right.  Oh, Life:  What an ocean of experience!  

Anyway…I’m going to stop doing this now.”

End blip.