Five years ago this month I went to breakfast with my family at a small diner we always frequented. As we waited for our food I combed my fingers through my hair and I was mortified to find the hair had ended up in my hand. My mother saw and quickly grabbed it and wrapped it up in a napkin. Later that day my friend Tara helped Brett and Sienna shave all my hair off:
My oncologist said that after five years the odds of my cancer returning goes down to almost zero. It will be five years this July. I was thinking about that yesterday as a few people remarked how long my hair was getting. Last year I decided I was going to finally grow it back out after I found out Sienna was telling people I had short hair because of cancer. My hair would have long since have grown out but I’d kept it short. My hair is almost shoulder length now, it’s finally getting to an un-awkward length. I guess that’s a milestone? And while my hair is slowly becoming un-awkward, I am continuing to embrace my overall awkwardness. I don’t think it’s a bad thing. I savor the contemplative life I have now. I find so much joy hanging out with dogs, chickens and crows all day long. If they teach me anything it’s to slow down and stay there. My chickens lay one egg a day, and spend the rest of the day foraging so that they have the energy to do it again. That’s a good model I think. Good things take time.
I was listening to the On Being podcast the other day with Maria Popova and I just loved how she put this…that there is “no shortcut for the conquest of meaning”:
We seem somehow bored with thinking. We want to instantly know. And there’s this epidemic of listicles. Why think about what constitutes a great work of art when you can skim the “20 Most Expensive Paintings in History?” And I’m very guided by this desire to counter that in myself because I am, like everybody else, a product of my time and my culture. And I remember, there’s a really beautiful commencement address that Adrienne Rich gave in 1977 in which she said that an education is not something that you get but something that you claim.
And I think that’s very much true of knowledge itself. The reason we’re so increasingly intolerant of long articles and why we skim them, why we skip forward even in a short video that reduces a 300-page book into a three-minute animation — even in that we skip forward — is that we’ve been infected with this kind of pathological impatience that makes us want to have the knowledge but not do the work of claiming it. I mean, the true material of knowledge is meaning. And the meaningful is the opposite of the trivial. And the only thing that we should have gleaned by skimming and skipping forward is really trivia. And the only way to glean knowledge is contemplation. And the road to that is time. There’s nothing else. It’s just time. There is no shortcut for the conquest of meaning. And ultimately, it is meaning that we seek to give to our lives.
Five years later I can say that I’ve found meaning in everything that has happened. But I had to go and find it, and I’m still seeking it. I feel like my chickens sometimes….constantly foraging. That’s why this little online space of mine hasn’t morphed so much. I am not in a hurry anymore. I don’t feel the pressure to make it all flashy and impressive. It’s just the place where I post about what I am foraging, what I loving and what I am learning. I spend more time contemplating than I do completing. And sometimes I’m only contemplating chickens and dogs and painting. All good and awkward things to love I think.
I am so happy (and can hardly believe) it’s coming up to five years. I can remember reading my way through your experience as it was happening. Today my eight year old son introduces me to his friends, then leans in to tell them that my hair is short because of my cancer treatment. I am just coming up to my one year surgery anniversary. I just cut my hair to a pixie. Like yours, I had always worn it down the middle of my back. You have no idea how many times I reread what you wrote about your life during your treatment- while I tried to wrap my head around what would come my way next. You’ve been a inspiration to me and I wanted you to know. Thank you 🙂
I have been following your post since the beginning. I can’t believe, but also am so happy it has been five years. I enjoy your post I look foreword to them everyday. It has been a joy watching your beautiful daughter grow up. Please know you and your family are loved and I pray god bless you with health and happiness always! ?
Watching the video of you having your head shaved brought back a flood of memories and feelings for me. Twenty three years ago my dear sweet mother asked if I would shave her head for her. I couldn’t do it. Somehow the act of shaving her head made her cancer seem more real to me, and I just couldn’t bear it. All these years later and I am still so ashamed of that – that I couldn’t be there for her when she really needed me. Now I can see that it could have been an opportunity for a lovely, meaningful, shared experience, a bonding. My mom died six months later. Ashley, I wish I could go back and do it over but instead I guess I’ll take it as a lesson learned. I’m glad you are taking the time to contemplate. I wish I had.
Forgive yourself, your mum would want you to and she would fully understand what you were feeling at the time.
thank you for sharing about your contemplations – and about the dogs & chickens & crows! i so enjoy reading all about it. i think that the light of real life reduces value of “flashy”. thanks! cheryl
Ashley, I remember the first time I watched that video. In one way it feels like yesterday and in another like a lifetime ago. Thank you for sharing.
Oh gosh. I cried 5 years ago when I watched this, and again now. You have had such an amazing journey, Ashley. Thank you so much for sharing not only that journey but yourself with us. You are such an inspiration. I don’t know if it’s appropriate to say, but – congratulations on 5 years!
You are a wonderful inspiration. Not only with your cancer, but even the smallest events in your life. You talked about your project to paint something everyday and also the buttons. I have decided that I,too, will sew a button a day, praying for someone while doing so. Thank you for sharing.
Wow5years! I feel like I’ve known you longer than that. So impressed with you today and thankful you are here to enrich life!
Thank you for this. I am starting to spend more time contemplating since I retired this past July and find that rushing to complete isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sometimes, I just spend time sitting with my dogs curled next to me, or sleeping on my lap while I knit a beanie or read a book, or indulge in watching a show that I never had time for. I am lucky to be able to do this now.
I look forward to your words, your photos, you ideas, your creations every day. I re-read your story, your cancer chronicles, every so often because your very personal words are a great reminder to never give up and to Choose Joy as often as possible. Congratulations on your milestone and may you always have great health!
Love you Ashley!
I have been reading your blog since the beginning and I think it is simply beautiful in every way, and so are you! I wear my Choose Joy bracelet and now I also think of “Happy” whenever I’m down and find that my heart lifts. Keep up the great blog and congratulations on your milestone!
thank you.
a distant relative showed a photo of a rescue dog she was driving home and I tried to figure out how to share it with you. reminded me of your Happy.
for some reason the share did nt work. this entry from you and knowing your progress makes up for my failure to share. My mother was a 17 year breast cancer survivor and at 82 yo she contracted another totally unrelated cancer which she jokingly remarked that she did nt really have in mind to sign up for a second one.
I just watched your video for the first time. The entire time I kept thinking how beautiful and brave you were. You had such an inner glow, tranquilly and peacefulness about you.
I pray that you continue to do well.
I somehow stumbled on your blog a month or so ago and am so glad to have found it. This is the first time I saw the video and your comments about running your hand through your hair and finding it then in your hand. My hair was short but the constant drop out led me to consider shaving, though I never did. My cancer is an incurable but treatable rare one (only about 3,000 cases a year in the whole US) diagnosed 7 years ago and recently was given the option of a chemo that should have targeted the particular cells I had. Two infusions later all it seemed to target was my hair but caused dangerous and unusual side effects so it’s off the table. My hair is growing back (I’d hoped for curls and strawberry blonde but, alas, it’s still straight, gray and white!) and I figure that it will just about be the right length when they’ll think of something else to wipe it out. I’m just happy to be around to laugh at the chicken feathers that seem to be sprouting atop my semi-bald head and appreciate the beauty of all that’s around me.
I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that it’s been five years since I cried watching that video for the first time. I’m so glad you’re at this milestone. Hugs!
Ashley, thank you so much for sharing this. Both your personal journey and the very relatable condition of impatience, addiction to lists, work, speed, etc. I’ve been thinking so much lately about a phrase I read some where, that we are drowning in information but starved for wisdom. I think that podcast you quoted is great, hits the nail for me that we have to do the work to earn true knowledge. So true.
And… I clearly remember those posts from what I cannot believe is five years ago. I’m deeply happy for your health and for Sienna’s growth and beauty. I choose joy and have trained my heart to imagine the best things, and they come true over and over again. I’m just so content to go slowly now, too. We live on a farm in Oklahoma and this year I pulled away rom all outside committees in order to be really present daily.
Watch those hens lay these eggs and forage.
Happiest of New Years to you. Xoxoxo
I remember this so well, Ashley. I didn’t have to personally know you for my heart to break for you but your positive attitude was so strong and noticed. I’ll be praying for you. I promise.
Hi Ashley,
Its been a while since I reached out. I am very happy that I found you years back and count you as a mentor in life. Finding meaning and learning how to embrace life is what Ive learned from you.
You have always been such an inspiration to me! I feel drawn and admire not only your creativity but the choices that you have taken to give purpose and meaning to your life.
It is my hope that some day soon we can meet face to face : )
A lot is happening in my life now that is stressful and sad….I crave to escape to a simple and yet nurturing place such as your beautiful town.
Please let me know if you ever do a workshop of ANY kind!! I will be there : )
Your Kindred Spirit (you just don’t know it yet : )’ ) (Im reading Anne of Green Gables at present, hence the beautiful word hardly ever used anymore)
Lucy Hale