A child's graduation from college is a momentous occasion for any parent. I remember helping my daughter clean her dorm room for the last time. There was a "shit ton" of stuff. Walking out of the dorm for the last time, my daughter started moaning about some perceived injustice she recently encountered. Her final words were, "It's not fair." I responded, "I would like to speak to the person who said life was fair. I have much to complain about".

As I mentioned in several blog posts, I was diagnosed with colon cancer six weeks ago. The surgery was just 15 days ago. I was in the hospital for two and a half days. My recovery has been easier than anticipated. I'm out of pain, eating and pooping normally, driving myself, and back to long walks. Most importantly, I did not need chemo or radiation.

After being home for a week, I was watching TV with my girlfriend when she turned to me and asked if I knew how lucky I was. She was referring to my diagnosis and the outcome of my surgery. My response was, "I feel the fundamental unfairness of my diagnosis, but there is not a moment that goes by that I do need to feel immense gratitude."

Since being a cancer survivor for two weeks, I have posted my blog on several cancer support websites. I felt compelled to share my journey and create an opportunity for others to share theirs. I received many responses from people either in remission or currently undergoing treatment. I found them to be compelling and vulnerable. There were several common threads in those that responded. The first was how a person finds certainty when there doesn't appear to be any. The more compelling response was how does a person find hope when they are faced with hopelessness. Maybe the most soul-bearing response was, "Is the cancer I am diagnosed with curable, and what happens if it's not?"

When I read these comments, they caused me to pause and reflect on the tenuous nature of my life. Those emotions feel like a lot to endure for any one person. How does anyone reconcile the dilemma of their life in the face of what appears to be a bleak future?

I often feel the burden of being human and identify with much of what was shared. My process of healing, learning, and growing never ends. It only deepens. I am continually open to the process of how my life is revealed. I am always available to the truth of my being, no matter how uncomfortable that revelation might be.

The compelling nature of this illness called cancer is an invitation for me to explore the gift of humility and acceptance of my life. I can only surrender to what lies in front of me. I give myself permission to embrace the present moment and let go of the anticipation of future outcomes. In the space of acceptance, I can express the ever-changing fluctuation of emotions. The present moment contains all possibilities for my life to unfold in the deepest manner possible. The present moment provides a direct and deeply personal experience of the Mystery of Life.

No person finds a deep sense of being without help. I need to acknowledge my family. A loving and supportive community of friends. My spiritual practice. My partner. My spiritual teacher. My exploration of Psilocybin and plant medicine. All the healers and shamans I have spent time with. I also can't forget all the amazing doctors, nurses, and hospital staff who cared for me.

Paramahansa Yogananda said, "There is a magnet in my heart that will attract true friends." I find a profound truth in that saying.

Few people walk into who they are. I need the experience of my personal growth and the pressure of my life's challenges. I need the perspective of time, which allows me to appreciate my process of personal growth and the man I am showing up as.

Each person has to find their path through the extremely challenging cancer experience. I am sharing my path. A path that allows me to be available to Grace and fully express a deepening sense of who I am.

Amidst the chaos and uncertainty of life, I remain open to Grace and the gift of my life.