[2020-10-30] The dignity of speaking the truth

Today marks nine weeks since my surgery and eight days since my last chemotherapy treatment. I went for an early-morning walk with my son, a subsequent stroll with my husband and a few quick jaunts with my daughter. By 10:30 a.m., I had already reached my daily goal of 10,000 steps, which I hadn't attained since the day before my last chemo.

I half-expected that my pace would have slowed in the past week and that I would need to work back up to my pre-chemo stamina. But such was not the case. The strength I have regained since my surgery has not been lost, and it dips only temporarily after each chemo treatment.

I have much to be grateful for, and still am. And so it was interesting to read of another "incurable optimist" who may have lost a bit of his optimism. I'm speaking of Michael J. Fox.

Fox is on the cover of this month's Costco Connection magazine, which highlights his new book: No Time Like the Future: An Optimist Considers Mortality.

The accompanying article notes: "The title alone suggests that Fox, who turned 59 in June, is in a much different place mentally than he was when he wrote his two previous memoirs, 2002's Lucky Man and its 2008 follow-up, Always Looking Up: The Adventures of an Incurable Optimist." Fox is quoted as saying,

"It's the first time that I really decided to question this optimistic point of view that I had.... I had a high tolerance for difficulty. I'd learned to live with Parkinson's and good things came of it."

However, several health challenges "proved overwhelming, even for an incurable optimist." Fox says:

"All of a sudden it just got down on me.... [I thought] these are the lemons life is giving me, but I'm not in the lemonade business."

He continues:

"A lot of people kind of count on me to be this cheerleader with a flashlight [helping people] get out of the coal mine, but that person was missing in action.... It really made me think about how finite is hope."

It appears that with his latest book, Fox's honesty is taking him in a new direction:

"You say what you believe as you would say it. It can't necessarily be good or bad; it's just my voice."

And that's the right message for any of us who are trying to make our voices heard. As Natalie Goldberg said in Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within, "Writing can teach us the dignity of speaking the truth." There is dignity in honestly reflecting what one is thinking and feeling, especially when documenting a story in all its colours.

As I suspect is the case with Fox, given the subtitle of his book (An Optimist Considers Mortality), I have thought more about my own mortality in the last three months than I have in my entire life. I find comfort in thinking about my legacy, more than my mortality. While I will never have the impact of Fox, who has made his mark on both big and small screens and through almost $1 billion raised via the Michael J. Fox Foundation for Parkinson's Research, I can try to leave a legacy. We all can. That legacy may be through our children, our work, and volunteer efforts or our art. Or perhaps even a blog.