Chapter Twenty-Six: This is our moment

In “The Art of Living,” Thich Nhat Hanh teaches us a simple, brilliant idea:

“We have to make this present moment into the most wonderful moment of our life.”

I have recently learned how important it is to be present, to be mindful of what is happening right now. In this moment. The past is gone, the future is not promised to us. We are only guaranteed this exact moment, precisely as it is right now.

I used to spend so much time worrying about the future. Will I get into medical school? Will I get into a residency program? Will I get married? When will my next vacation be? Will I get a job? Will my husband, friends, co-workers still like me next month or will they be sick of me? Have I made enough plans for this evening, this weekend? Etc. The list goes on and on.

Then, I went to Thailand. Each day was a new, exciting day. I had no idea what to expect from moment to moment. One day, I was meeting new patients in a hospital in Chiang Mai. The next day, I was hiking up a mountain, stumbling onto majestic hidden temples with my new friend S. Then, I was on an old rusted bus heading to an unknown city to volunteer with sick, rescued elephants. Next, I was getting a Thai massage for $10 in the nicest spa I've ever seen.

One day, I started to have mini seizures. But then, I felt fine and met new friends from all over the world in a yoga class. After that, I was eating the best Burmese-style curry I’ve ever tasted (also, I didn’t even know what Burmese-style curry was before this). Next thing you know, I’m in a giant, loud MRI machine in the center of Chiang Mai being asked to sign a bill to get a “second MRI” because the radiology tech saw “a mass.”

After that, I’m sitting in a Starbucks wearing an N95 mask which I have to remove between sips of coffee because COVID-19 had found its way to Thailand. Moments later, I’m admitted to a hospital in Thailand because “a mass” is a code word for a possible brain tumor. Less than a week later, I’m lying in a hospital bed in Minnesota after brain surgery. Shortly after this, a neurosurgeon is telling me I have brain cancer. What a fucking whirlwind let me tell you!

Life is funny. If you had asked my previously high-strung, overly controlling self what was on my January-February 2020 schedule, I would not have meticulously written down ANY of the things I just told you in my daily planner.

So now, at this moment and all moments to come, I hope I can remind myself to stay present. To think about how much I have right now.

How much we hope to have, or plan to have, or expect to have in the upcoming months or years are not guaranteed to any of us. We have this moment, right now. We are breathing; we are living; we are exactly where we are supposed to be.

Also, for those of you who have been reading my blogs, I want you to know that Demi was AMAZING. If you live in Minnesota, eat here. If you don’t live in Minnesota, immediately fly here and eat here (but get one of their impossible reservations first). I’m not a Demi spokesperson, but I wish I could be. I can’t even explain the amazing culinary adventure this restaurant took me on.

Thoughts of the day: Plan a little, but don’t plan too much. This exact moment is the only moment you’re absolutely guaranteed to have.

(Enjoy some photos of my dog along with some random glorious photos from Demi).

Fondly,

Courtney Burnett

© CB2020