You are more powerful than you can possibly imagine.
I learned this first hand in 2004 after my third surgery to remove a benign brain tumor. Lying in the ICU with a small cylinder connected to my incision, I asked a question I never thought to ask before.
What is the purpose of this?
The answer—to drain excess fluid—was a revelation. You should know that at that moment my head was swollen to double its size and that the same thing had happened after each previous surgery. Both times a spinal tap was ultimately employed to remove the fluid.
Up until this simple question, I thought it was a good thing that the drain was empty. Once removed, I was one step closer to going home.
In my haste to heal, I was literally holding onto what prevented my progress.
I can say that is true because of what happened next. When I learned the answer, I knew what to do. And I made it happen. Within an hour the drain filled and my swelling decreased. By that night it was gone.
That was nearly six years ago. I have blogged about the tumor before and its effect on my life.
From the experience, I learned that your attitude can directly affect your health and the support that you receive—thinking and acting positively help others to do the same, and your body to react accordingly.
I also witnessed how beautiful the simplest things are, like making your own breakfast or walking across the street. We take a lot for granted that can be celebrated.
What I didn't realize, was my dependence on the tumor. From that day forward, I gave it credit for the things I learned and the changes I made. I became a coach, I claimed, because of it.
Last November I learned that a tiny piece of the tumor left from the surgeries had begun to grow. I was utterly devastated.
While keeping a brave face for friends and family, in my heart I wanted a miracle.
A healer told me that our bodies fight disease, even cancer, all the time. Things we never even know about because they are destroyed by our immune system. For some reason that slice of tumor left was still here though my body could have fought it years ago.
Just like the fluid, could it be that I'm holding onto the tumor? After giving it so much of the credit, I needed the tumor. If it went away, I would no longer be special.
I have not yet had an MRI to prove this, but already I feel lighter. I own the changes I've made in a way I never have before.
I know that it isn't the tumor that makes me special. It's me.
Consider what you're holding onto, perhaps without realizing it. It's time to let it go.