Elephants and Tea - September 2022 - 27

setting these characters apart from normal
people. I no longer felt indestructible, ready
to take on the world. I felt small, a hapless
victim of a biological fluke that robbed me
of my potential. I yearned to feel capable.
I instead felt inept as I failed to reproduce
my once-smooth jump shot without the
depth perception that requires two eyes to
maintain. Instead of bold heroism, I routinely
burned myself pouring hot water on
my hand instead of into my mug trying to
simply make tea. I felt diminished.
It took a long time for me to realize that
perhaps the fearlessness we romanticize
is not the boon it seems to be in films and
stories. Instead of running headlong into
a challenge as a younger me would have
done, today I take careful, measured steps
forward. My youthful reckless confidence
has given way to a realism that is in itself
a subtle joy. While my jump shot may be
doomed and my tea-making has had to
adapt to my visual limitations, my appreciation
for my life and relatively good health
has blossomed in their place.
Cancer has a way of bringing the lunacy of
modern life into sharp focus. We all spend
so much time driving tirelessly toward our
goals, we forget to appreciate the conditions
that allow us to pursue them, to admire the
beautiful views we encounter on our steady
marches toward our aspirations, or to just
treat the people who help us get there the
way they deserve to be treated. Appreciating
life's little things isn't glamorous. In a
world saturated with praise and honor for
grand actions, there seems to be little room
to admire anything else. The world would
have us believe that unless we have made
a hero, a leader of nations, or a wealthy
tycoon out of ourselves, we have failed. It
took a brush with an untimely end for me
to realize how untrue that notion is. In
those darkest moments of my cancer experience,
it wasn't a hero or a leader who
brought me comfort or gave me strength.
It was dear friends who came with me to
critical scans and appointments, just so I
didn't have to go alone. It was my mom
flying in from two states away just to help
me cope, even though that meant spending
three months on a daybed in a spare room.
It was doctors and nurses who didn't know
me, but still responded to my despair with
empathy and hope I couldn't muster for
myself. It was the altruism of people who
spend their careers and free time creating
support services for cancer patients, giving
me an opportunity to heal and grow as I recovered
from treatment. These people likely
won't be discussed in any future history
courses. Yet when I think about people who
have made a difference in my life, they are
the first who come to mind. It's a shame
that I needed a traumatic near-death
experience to force me to realize that,
because it's been true all along, I just
couldn't see it. My experience flirting
with my mortality taught me a new, less
awe-inspiring, but equally potent way
for a person to be great: by being present
and appreciating everything around us, by
being kind to the folks we encounter, and by
liberating ourselves and everyone else from
having to be anything other than who we
really are in our short time on this earth.
I am sure it's no coincidence that where I
once held Aragorn, a classic heroic protagonist
from one of my all-time favorite stories,
The Lord of the Rings, in unimpeachably
high esteem, it is his older, wiser companion
Gandalf the Gray who still captures
my imagination today. The wise old wizard
provides one of my favorite quotes, one that
espouses a beautiful truth:
" Some believe it is only great power that
can hold evil in check. But that is not what I
have found. I have found that it is the small
everyday deeds of ordinary folk that keep
the darkness at bay. Small acts of kindness
and love. "
My cancer experience has shaped my life
in many ways, but this insight has helped
me the most. We could all benefit from
taking a moment to remind ourselves that
while we may not have the power to spark
a revolution or overcome impossible odds,
we do have the power to bring joy to the
people we love. We always have the power
to be a shoulder to a friend in need, to lend
a hand to someone who could really use
some help, and to just be kind to ourselves
as we go about completing life's many less
than glamorous tasks. It's a reminder that
for most of us, simple acts of kindness and
patience have a greater impact on our lives
than anyone's heroic deeds. Most of us don't
get to be the Aragorn's of our world's story,
but we can all be the kind of person that
Gandalf asks us to admire: the ordinary
folks whose small acts of kindness and love
hold the whole world together. l
JORDAN ADAMS IS
A CERTIFIED CAT
WHISPERER, GAMER,
ULTIMATE FRISBEE
PLAYER, EYEWEAR
ENTHUSIAST, AND
BOARD GAME MAESTRO
FROM SACRAMENTO,
CALIFORNI A. HE WAS
DIAGNOSED WITH UVEAL
MELANOMA, A RARE EYE
CANCER THAT FORCED THE
REMOVAL OF HIS RIGHT
EYE IN SEPTEMBER 2016.
HE HAS BEEN CANCER
FREE FOR OVER FIVE
YEARS. HE NOW WEARS
A PROSTHETIC EYE ,
WHICH HE CONSIDERS A
WEARABLE MONUMENT
TO HIS CANCER'S DEMISE .
HE WORKS FOR THE STATE
OF CALIFORNIA WRITING
CODE TO SUPPORT THE
STATE'S DISABILITY
INSURANCE PROGRAM
AND LIKES TO SPEND
TIME VOLUNTEERING TO
SUPPORT HIS PATIENT
AND SURVIVOR PEERS.
ELEPHANTSANDTEA.COM
SEPTEMBER 2022
27
http://www.ELEPHANTSANDTEA.COM
Elephants and Tea - September 2022

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