Three years ago today, I wrote a post called Spontaneity in which I recommended allowing time for unplanned activities. That's exactly what Mel and I did this afternoon. We headed out with a loose plan: a walk at a dog park together followed by traipsing for her in one of her favourite parts of the city and writing for me at a local library. However, when we discovered that the parking lot to the dog park was closed, we changed direction. Passing by the Pinecrest Cemetery, we decided to stop in to walk the grounds and search for the grave markers of our Hollington ancestors. Next, we moved on to the Merivale Public Cemetery, where we found the gravestone for my great-great-grandfather's brother and his wife. Finally, we drove to the Capital Cemetery, where we found the grave marker for my great-grandfather and great-grandmother. Sometimes the best days are the ones predicated on spontaneity, shared interest and the love of each other's company.

"Cancer is a family experience, and often family members have as many problems coping with it as does the diagnosed patient. The family goes through different stages of adjusting to the disease. The emotional reactions may include anger, resentment, guilt and adjustment pain, and may or may not lead to the acceptance of the disease. The cancer's diagnosis, as well as the subsequent phases of the disease and its treatment, may be a source of intense stress both for the patient and for the family. Patients and their relatives need to face the challenge of a life defined with uncertainty; treatment routines, the threat of recurrence or the failure of the treatment."

— Katarzyna Woźniak and Dariusz Iżycki

As a frequent multi-tasker, I have often had to remind myself to "be here now, be somewhere else later." It's a simple mantra that I repeat to myself whenever my mind drifts to some other place and time than the one I'm in.... And, of course, it's a perfect phrase to use as I deal with cancer. All I can control is today: what I do, how I think and feel, and what beauty I choose to see around me. For the most part, I cannot control what will happen tomorrow. "Be here now" reminds me to enjoy each day rather than to dwell on tomorrow. And today was a pretty good day!

I was encouraged by the advice in the Mayo Clinic's Cancer fatigue: Why it occurs and how to cope, which indicated that exercise is recommended even when fatigued. In fact, the organization says that a lack of exercise can make a cancer patient feel tired or weak. "If you're used to being on the go, slowing down can make you feel fatigued. Though you will have good days and bad days, try to maintain your normal level of activity if you can."

Like Pooh, I love a little something sweet, even better when I get to share it with someone. I love having friends and family about. I enjoy a day—much like today—when I can be outside with birds singing. I'm less like Christopher Robin, but am trying to become more like him. Doing nothing has always scared me; I like to be doing something. But when I look at what Christopher Robin means by nothing—"just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering"—I think that I could aspire to doing that kind of nothing.

"Being trustworthy is about being a person of character. Character isn't how you act when life is going the way you want it to. That's easy. Character is how you act when everything around you is falling apart. Character is how you act when you are scared and angry and tired and frustrated. That's when people watch you and decide whether they will trust you."

— David Irvine

Take notes from all important conversations, erring on the side of taking more notes than fewer.

Note to whom you spoke, their contact information, when you chatted, what you discussed and what you both agreed to do next.

Keep your notes in one place.

Review your notes to ensure that you've followed up on action items.

For those of you who want to write but frequently get stuck in the writing process, you might try this technique to get past writer's block: simply start talking.

"I always forget how important the empty days are, how important it may be sometimes not to expect to produce anything, even a few lines in a journal. A day when one has not pushed oneself to the limit seems a damaged, damaging day, a sinful day. Not so! The most valuable thing one can do for the psyche, occasionally, is to let it rest, wander, live in the changing light of a room."

— May Sarton

I thought of you today and instead of letting that thought drift away, like so many other thoughts I've had of you in the past, I decided to say hi. I just wanted you to know that I'm grateful you're in my life.

Jennifer [Turner] acknowledged that people with cancer still have grief and fear and sadness, but they integrate those feelings with love and joy. "That's just humanity," she said. Her recommendation to participants was this: live your best life, learn what you need to learn, and love the people around you. She has chosen to live her own life one day at a time, savouring each wild and precious day—a nod to Mary Oliver's poem The summer day, which concludes: "Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?"

But as I thought more about that idea—"an issue over which I have little or no control"—I wondered whether that was entirely true. While some things related to cancer are beyond my control, others are very much within my power to influence. And I'm doing a lot to stack the deck in my favour.

Positive exchanges with others are uplifting. They smooth out the wrinkles of my life. They help me feel connected. And they remind me that we are here to love and be loved.