Don't get me wrong, my goal for 2018 is total and complete healing or bust! Get it? Bust :) Ok, it's bad cancer humor. Corny breast jokes are kind of my schtick these days. I may be the only one laughing at my lame quips, but better to be chuckling than sobbing at each turn.
A wise gentleman I know has encouraged me to reconsider by vocabulary choices.
I often jest that I'm an aspiring survivor. Why just survive, he asked? It's a rather low expectation. He's right.
According to Dictionary.com, the definition of survive is "to live or exist in spite of." The definition of thrive is "to prosper and flourish." The choice is clear. I don't want to be a survivor. I plan to be a thriver. No, I AM a thriver. I'm thriving for my precious baby girls. I'm thriving for my award-winning husband (seriously, he deserves an award for all he does). I'm thriving for my awe-inspiring clients. I'm thriving for my faithful friends. I'm thriving for my wonderful mother. I'm thriving.
It's incredible how a slight change in semantics can totally adjust one's outlook and perspective.