People are always coming up to me on the street and saying, "Hey, Mister (my pronoun of choice) where do you get your ideas for the blog?" No one actually approaches me on the street, like really - what are the chances of me running into one of the 67 of you "fans" out there? But as I sometimes do find myself staring at a blank screen and watching the cursor mockingly blinking at me, the topics don't always just flow out like water. In reality, I'm not an essayist - rather an assay-ist; mining chunks of life for little nuggets of gold to share with you - the faithful followers and insomniacs among you. But as Lauryn Hill - Rita Louise Watson, said to Whoopi Goldberg - Sister Mary Clarence - aka: Deloris Van Cartier in Sister Act II (don't roll your eyes at me, it is a very good movie) "What's the point of your little story, Sister?!"
Spending 3 to 4 hours of quiet time in a comfy chair at the clinic can be very inspirational. Granted those occasions have dwindled now that I am thankfully only going in once a month for a treatment (rub, rub here; rub, rub there). I don't mean this to be mercenary, but my so-called cancer life is playing out in front of me, as well as the lives of so many others. I'm not actually interviewing anyone, and unlike in the movies, we don't sit around the infusion center smoking medical-grade marijuana and swapping stories about throwing up or losing our hair. However, with a keen eye and an undistracted mind, I can see and hear and feel their experiences - some aligning with mine, but each as unique as every cancer club member's diagnosis or circumstances. Over time, you tend to see the same group of folks fairly regularly, which allows me to put some of the pieces together. And, a brain (and belly) full of toxic chemicals, also helps fuel that age-old game that everyone plays but no one admits to - guessing (or inventing) from a distance, the narrative of the lives of strangers.
These moments bear the fruit of numerous blog topics, and then other times a random thought just floats through the air and plants a seed in my head. It doesn't really have to make sense to anyone but me. And yet if the thought crosses my mind, I'm inclined to wonder if others in the cancer cadre aren't pondering the same thing (in some form). This motivates me to try and put shape to the ameba in my imagination, and maybe articulate a concern or an odd-servation for others that can help them along their unique cancer journey. We're all sort of going along on this ride alone together, so if we share some of the fears and feelings "out loud" it just might help - or at least it gives a voice to the crazy thoughts they might be thinking, and relieves them to know that they are not alone in their minds. I don't always know where/when it comes from, and I certainly often don't know where it's/I'm going - but I do enjoy the journey of trying to explain.
