by tashmcgill | Dec 28, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Health
Today, I’m not writing because the words are burning on my chest. In fact, I would rather ignore the subject all together, but I have to write about cancer. More specifically, I have to write about what cancer does. Not what we think it does, but what it really does.
What we think cancer does is kill people. And we’re right, people die from cancer all the time as well as some who survive. Over 100 different types of cancer rampaging through the world touching almost every family and every person by the time you reach your thirties. Cancer causes harm to the human body when abnormal cells begin to divide uncontrollably. Usually defined by the cells first affected, most cancers cause tumours to grow which can eventually interfere with the function of vital organs or in the instance of leukemia, it alters the cells in the bloodstream. Sometimes cancer spreads to other parts of the body through the bloodstream or lymphatic system, in a process called metastasis.
What many people don’t realise is that approximately only 10% of people die from their primary tumours. Once a tumour metastasizes, the secondary conditions are extraordinarily hard to treat and that is what most people eventually die from.
That’s a problem because on the whole, humanity is becoming more afraid of death than ever. We’re fighting to prolong the lives of our elders, let alone the young. I’ve written about this in the past; while my friend Jared was dying of bowel cancer. We end up fighting not to die, because that’s what we think cancer does.
But here’s what cancer really does. Cancer gets in the way of living and it gets in the way of families. You might think I’m playing semantics here, but I’m really not. What Jared taught me and what we pondered together was how to live out of your purpose and not be distracted by trying to stop cells multiplying where they shouldn’t.
On Boxing Day, we lost our friend Ruth. 
She was about my age and had been married for three years after what seemed like a lifelong wait at the time. Turns out, she spent a good deal of her actual lifetime waiting for Harley. No one would argue that it wasn’t worth every moment. Not long after, she fell pregnant and then discovered a brain tumour. Her darling wee girl was delivered prematurely. Ruth got to be a mother, she got to live that beautiful dream for 18 months; full of hope, faith, sadness and joy. Motherhood interrupted. The lasting, indelible marks of her life will always be joy, laughter, delight and beauty. She was beautiful from the inside out. Cancer has interrupted her family and changed forever the path of her husband, daughter and dearest friends.
On Boxing Day night, I learned my darling workmate Rebecca ‘Bangs’ Hyndman, had been diagnosed with an aggressive cancer on Christmas Eve. She’s been given a few months at best but remains in critical condition. Her son, Ben, is just over four weeks old. Her husband, Jeff, now faces the interruption. Cancer, once again – getting in the way of families and people living out their purpose. Motherhood interrupted. Becs is straightforward as she always has been – she’s not going to be distracted in these last weeks from her purpose – to love her boys and do her best for them.
What would a mother do for her husband and son about to face an immense loss?Everything she could to provide comfort, nurture and sustenance. There are no shortage of family and friends who will rally with time and effort – but you don’t have to be a genius to realize paternity leave isn’t going to stretch far enough for this one. So there’s a donation page been set up here – Give A Little. Why would you consider giving? Probably because nobody needs 1000 lasagna or beef casseroles. Because 18 years of child raising on a single income is daunting, let alone in the face of grief. Because most 30 year olds don’t have life insurance. Because it’s symbolic of saying, “I’ll help you care for your family and accomplish this task“.
In all this; I’m mindful of my friend Kelly, also facing a terminal diagnosis. I remember Jared and how he did not let cancer interrupt his purpose and in doing so, left a legacy for his daughter Elise. His purpose wasn’t what he thought it was, but he embraced it as soon as he recognized it.
Back to what cancer really does. Cancer gets in the way of families, gets in the way of living. We can easily get confused and think we must give all our attention to fighting the cancer, to stopping the cells from growing. We ought to fight, sensibly. Cure what we can – but we must not stop living in order not to die. Strangely, cancer cells don’t like to die.The whole problem is that they grow and live and keep on living; unlike every other cell in the body. We can’t control those cells. Normal cells, regular cells all follow a cycle of creation, growth, life and then death. Without death, we have a problem.
We fight cancer because we don’t want it to kill us. Because even though we all must die, we don’t want to die from cancer. We ought to fight to live. Every moment, every day. Leaving an impression behind us – whether in a child or a friendship or a piece of music, art, a business deal or a well-manicured garden.
Today, I’m writing because it’s part of who I am, my purpose on this green and blue orb hanging in space. To observe the world and tell others what I see. I hope that it changes you or moves you or challenges you as I am challenged also by what I see and learn as I study others.
Today, I’m writing to acknowledge death will come to us all but until that day – tomorrow, next Wednesday or in June some years from now, I will live. I will try.
In living, consider where else metaphorical cancer is getting in the way of your family and your life’s purpose. Are toxic relationships or bad habits, insecurities or deep internal misbeliefs that are doing what cancer does? Stopping you from living and getting in the way of your family or relationships? Are old grudges or judgmental thoughts stopping you from being truly yourself or allowing others to be truly themselves? Get yourself a health check or give yourself one before you enter the New Year.
I’m working on my own; the fear of judgement from others, a sense of inferiority, a longing to belong somewhere I can call home. Stay tuned and work on it with me.
by tashmcgill | Dec 7, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Family
The trouble with Christmas is not the commercial underpinnings or the trappings of food and wine that see us creeping back to the scales in shame. The trouble with Christmas, is how it perpetuates the myth of perfect. This is an old post but one that still rings true. So here’s an updated version for 2015.
1. Christmas gives perfect stereotypes an unfair spotlight.
I love Christmas movies but I hate the stereotypes they portray. Career girls being visited by ghosts of Christmas past to learn that family is the most important thing. Childhood sweethearts being reunited. Even the most loved and abhorred ‘Christmas’ movie ‘Love Actually’ has very little to do with Christmas and everything to do with tragic romance gone wrong. Christmas is not about romance, nor are those stereotypes realistic.
2. Christmas creates an expectation that we should have ‘perfect’ moments, from family dinners to carol services.
Those perfect moments come with their own set of expectations too – perfect food, perfect decorations, perfect happiness. This shallow view of happiness is ill-informed and unrealistic. The nuance of emotion that is layered into a truly happy moment will touch the spectrum of joy, sorrow and everything in between. Therefore the kind of happiness we see depicted or try to create is largely an inaccurate and unachievable kind of emotional experience.
Of course – the expectation or desire for creating something ‘perfect’ is largely only something that hinders those who have not found peace with defining their own sense of perfect.
The biggest challenge around Christmas and its myth of perfection, is the annual challenge it poses to those who are still wrestling with their own imperfection, or still seeking the ability to find perfection in the imperfect.
What’s the perfect Christmas?
It starts with acceptance that we have the opportunity to participate and create new traditions and meaningful moments by acknowledging and communicating our needs and hopes thoughtfully with one another. Not inspiring enough? A perfect Christmas is one where everybody comes openly to a shared experience and are actively involved in creating a celebration that expresses shared meaning.
Even if you have found a sense of acceptance and self-awareness within yourself, Christmas thrusts many people and their hopes (expectations) together. Therefore, while you may find contentment, others who are seeking to ‘get it right’ in hopes of meeting their own Christmas expectations may still look to you to play a part.
Is this selfish? Is this wrong? No. It’s a natural part of human interaction but in the same way that weddings can, a shared celebration and experiences creates a set of dependencies on others to try to achieve satisfaction.
Whatever ideals you hold regarding your family and close relationships, it is nearly impossible to remove those from the way we celebrate and come together.
So where does stress, anger, frustration, emotional outburst and tension come from at Christmas? It comes from trying to meet these expectations, often relying heavily on others to do, say, make and be what we hope for. This tension of hope and expectation can squeeze our emotional and mental capacity beyond breaking point. Our hope that ‘this year will be different’ pushes against our expectation that ‘it will be the same as it was before’.
It may be you have not experienced this before, but for increasing numbers of people who come from divorced and mixed-families, those who are adjusting to the loss of partners or children, those who have suffered abuse or trauma in family relationships – this is an unspoken norm at Christmastime. Even for those away from home for the first time, Christmas takes on a significantly different shape. It can simply be overwhelming for those who are lonely at other times of the year, to experience the pronounced focus on close relationships and family during this season.
At the most basic healthy level, balancing the needs and desires of multiple family units is challenging. Making decisions about which grandparents get to see the grandkids on Christmas Day and when can be tough. But if a single person in that family has a deep emotional need to feel validated during that time – instant complication. Most tension and emotional escalation comes from a core human need – trying to get what we want, to get our needs or expectations met.
The habits of family arguments, old behaviours and our oldest vulnerabilities and insecurities flying unchecked can escalate before we have a chance to grasp hold our control of the situation. And again, this is normal. Human beings are creatures of habit, therefore choosing alternative ways of being – particularly in family units where the oldest ingrained behaviours usually begin, requires discipline and self-control.
When we fear that others will not meet our expectations or the ghosts of Christmas past raise their voices in our heads – we have a choice.
1. We choose numbness. We intentionally pull back our emotional investment so as to navigate complex situations with the least amount of stress and emotional impact.
2. We relent to the power of old behaviours. There is a strange comfort and security in patterns we are at least familiar. We play our parts in arguments that we have every Christmas. We wrestle with the same feelings of disappointment over unmet expectations. The most dangerous phrase is “I was secretly hoping for.” An unvoiced hope is like an illness, affecting us day by day.
3. We reset our expectations and apply tactics to resist old behaviours. This is the hardest choice, because it requires a certain commitment to your personal emotional stores. It requires doing some internal work to rationalize what the unmet expectations and unbearable feelings around those relationships are. This requires a bunch of work, but for good reward.
So, it’s December 8th. You have 23 days, give or take a few hours. Seeing you can only work on yourself, not others – here’s a list to get you started for a less stressful Christmas. As with most things, good communication is the start. Communicating what we need, what we want, what we hope for and then listening just as hard to all other people involved.
- Identify the insecurities and vulnerabilities that feel particularly present this time of year.
- Pinpoint any obligations you feel or where you are striving to meet the expectations of others. Are they really reasonable?
- Rebalance expectations or obligations – what can you actually do, what do you want to do?
- Deconstruct your insecurities – what can you do to build your esteem? You’ll feel the benefits as soon as you start.
- Identify your own expectations and hopes for the Christmas season – are you hoping for particular feelings or certain shared experiences? It needs to be a little more specific than ‘I just want everyone to be happy’. Ask yourself the question ‘what will happiness look like, or sound like?’. The answer to that question is probably a great description of what you really want.
- Be realistic about how much of your circumstance you can control or influence. You can make choices to control more or less, but each choice has a consequence. Start with being realistic about what is inside and outside your control.
- Acknowledge that no one person is likely to have all of their hopes and expectations met. Accept that you might compromise some of your own hopes in order that others might also experience fulfilment. It’s highly likely many hopes will be shared.
- Peacefully communicate your true hopes, desires and expectations to other people in your family. Invite them to do the same.
- If possible, find other family members who are willing to talk about new strategies and tactics for meeting some of these hopes.
Good luck. The bonus is that using this strategy of good, simple communication will bring benefits into many other parts of your life.
by tashmcgill | Dec 6, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Strategy
As I wrote last week, there’s a post-it note on my desk with the quote,
“Everything I’ve ever let go of has clawmarks in it.” David Foster Wallace.
Letting go of anything means change. Change is constant and uncomfortable. Very few human beings are wired to thrive on the thrill of the unknown. Most of us believe forewarned is forearmed and that minimising change is the utopian dream. We crave stability, without realising that stasis is the first stage before death.
While I echo Wallace’s sentiment, I can’t support his implied proposition – that to fight and cling is somehow noble. But Wallace committed suicide in 2008, having lived much of his adult life with depression and under medication in order to be able to work. I think Wallace’s fight to hold on and to resist change ultimately contributed to the ongoing breakdown of his life. You see, what we invest our energy into grows.
Change that we resist is usually an external pressure or energy; something that comes upon us. When you resist external force with internal force, the energy evaporates in the combustion of that reaction, but the energy is also lost. No one party gains from the other.
Over time, a resistance or refusal to respond to change depletes your energy and resource.
I experienced this a number of times in my early working life. The loss of a project, the change in a plan, the loss of a job. I clung and fought but each battle became harder to fight and each victory less sweet, such was the price of the battle.
So now, instead of fighting to resist change – I’m learning to surrender to it.
It may feel uncomfortable because in the Western world, our idea of surrender is most often associated with loss. We only surrender when we are in a losing position. But in Sanskrit, the word ‘surrender’ is translated to ‘give yourself wholeheartedly to something, to embrace the flow of your life.’
This idea of surrender is about where you put your energy and what you resist instead of embracing, what you embrace instead of resisting. A negative attitude towards change is a toxic learning environment. Learning should always be a by-product of change. A negative attitude towards change alienates and disengages you from those who would help you navigate it.
Surrender is powerful because it reframes our thinking away from bad conflict habits.
Surrender is powerful because you cannot embrace again without first letting go.
Surrender is powerful because it truly is the path of least resistance. Resistance is the enemy of hope in the face of change. We get to keep our energy for other battles.
Surrender is powerful because it focuses us on the posture we taking in learning, the resilience required to live with inevitable disappointment and the power of humility.
It is in surrender that you are embracing humility. Knowing yourself truly; good, bad and ugly. Confronting the secret and alone parts of yourself that are still laced with fear. Fear of the unknown, fear of being unsuccessful, fear of being unloved, fear of being wrong.
When I was confronted with the biggest change I’ve known as an adult; I fought it with all my might. I rallied in every conversation, I maintained an excruciating level of intensity because losing this project was not an option for me. I fought myself, my mentors, I fought with my friends and then I lost it anyway. I entered the dark shadow cave; confronted with loss and with blame. I felt ashamed that I hadn’t held onto what I had clung so tightly too in the past. Letting go felt like failure, but later I realised not letting go fast enough meant I had no time or capacity to embrace the lessons right in front of me. Change came and continued out without me, because I wouldn’t allow myself to get on board the train.
No matter what kind of change you’re undergoing, major or minor – we yearn for peace. We find it in surrender. Surrender to knowing that while we may not see the end result of change; change is assured. Change in of itself is not scary. Change can open new doors of discovery. Change can also be very, very wrong. But like a tsunami wave, it will not be stopped once started. Accepting change is a doorway to peace. Surrendering to the flow of your life is peace entering in.
Surrendering to change pushes us into the unknown, which is where we must be if we are to learn something new and to learn something new, we must ask the right questions.
- what will I learn
- how can I learn best from this
- how will I respond
- how will I help others
Surrender is the art form of leaning in, a gateway to vulnerability. As the world responds to us, change is quickened. As change is quickened, we are more truly ourselves. The more change we embrace, the more we have the opportunity to embrace the lessons that come with it.
by tashmcgill | Dec 2, 2015 | Culture & Ideas, Spirituality
The Advent season starts for each of us, alone. No matter that by Christmas Day, most of us will find our way to be connected with some others – family, friends or communities. But it starts with people alone.
Elizabeth, the cousin of Mary, is carrying a child in her old age while her husband is struck silent. Elizabeth is very much alone.
Mary, the teenage girl engaged to Joseph is visited by the angel Gabriel while she sleeps. She is alone, left to wonder if she is going mad and what will become of her.
Joseph is also alone when visited by the angel, who assures him he should still take Mary as his wife. Joseph had been secretly planning to break off their betrothal; in secret and alone.
Eventually Mary gives birth alone in a stable, no mention of midwives, mothers or sisters to accompany her on this journey. Mary, the mother of God spends much of the Christmas story alone, if not lonely.
Although the traditional Christmas story ends with Mary, Joseph, Jesus and a motley crew of shepherds, wise men and innkeepers gathered together in a stable; for each person the journey starts alone. Nativity scenes paint a picture of otherworldly peace and calm, but the story itself is actually full of human anguish, anxiety, fear, rejection, anger and loneliness.
It is the same for us. Whatever our thoughts or beliefs around the Christmas season or story are; we begin the season alone.
This aloneness is an extraordinary opportunity.
When we are alone, we are left with no choice but to be confronted with ourselves. Our fears, hopes. Our sense of hopelessness. Whether it’s the pressure of unreasonable expectations created by us or other; perhaps it is the secret list of disappointments, perhaps it is our aloneness that confronts us when we are alone. But the story starts in Alone.
That’s where Hope emerges from too.
Why remember Advent?
It’s healthy and good to give pause at this time of year. No matter where you are, the season is changing from hot to cold or cold to warm. Business calendars roll over and many of us find ourselves pondering family, lovers, friends and community. We ponder our sense of togetherness and our sense of aloneness. We wonder what the New Year will bring. We try and navigate a season that is increasingly complex – multiple families, multiple faiths.
The Advent season follows four themes – Hope, Peace, Joy and Love. These eternal ideas are human ideas, not restricted to religion alone. Yet, Advent seems a useful time to refocus on them. Hope emerges from our sense of frailty and our imagination. Peace is a life-long human pursuit and we are living in times of highly publicised civil wars. There is much to be said for meditating on these themes and bringing deeper meaning to our day-to-day existence.
So this week, take a moment and be alone.
What do you see in the mirror?
What are you pregnant with? What rumbles inside you and will not let you go?
What are you reaching into – what newness?
What are you afraid of? What is lonely? What is crowded? What is finished?
Advent is about expectation. The expectation of Hope, Peace, Joy and Love arriving. Interrupting, expanding and challenging the day-to-day human experience.
by tashmcgill | Dec 1, 2015 | Community, Culture & Ideas, Friendship, Relationships
A year ago and a week ago, I passed under this bridge in a traffic jam, stuck again on Interstate 65. This piece of highway is a constant in my life as I travel between places and people I know.
I was stuck metaphorically too, stuck in a dream of a dream. The bridge is just a symbol, a lot of water has passed under this bridge since then. 372 days that see me further from one dream but closer to another. I don’t know what that dream is, but it must be a dream because it’s not yet real.
I think I must have grown up some but there’s a post-it note stuck to my computer screen that says “Everything I ever let go of had claw marks in it”, and it’s certainly true for me. I can feel the tingling in my fingertips. How much I want to hold to something, for something to be as permanent or certain as this bridge. I want to held on to; to be permanent and certain myself.
I’ve been learning you can’t hold on to what’s not real or permanent. You can’t hold on to what’s not holding you. Lorem Ipsum has no permanent home, just like a pipiwhararoa it flies from nest to nest looking for a place to call its own. No one holds on to Lorem Ipsum either.
Lorem Ipsum.
You probably recognize the phrase. If you’ve ever worked in design, printing, had to produce marketing materials or a website there’s a good chance you’ve seen this text. It’s ancient Latin from “de Finibus Bonorum et Malorum” (The Extremes of Good and Evil) by Cicero, written in 45 BC. This book on the theory of ethics was popular with emerging humanist thinkers during the Renaissance so as printing technology emerged during this era, it’s no surprise that a collection of paragraphs from this text was used as dummy text to review typefaces.
Placeholder text is designed to look close enough to the real thing that it becomes invisible to the viewer. Originally so that a printer and publisher might agree the layout of the text or the choice of typeface on a page. Now, Lorem Ipsum is often used to fill out the design frames and suggest where text is required in marketing collateral and digital publishing.
A placeholder is used to fill space but leave no lasting impression. It looks and feels real but carries no meaning. It is yet it does not endure. Lorem Ipsum has survived for 5 centuries now only ever being useful for a moment, to fill the space before it is replaced.
I am not Lorem Ipsum, neither are you.
It’s a shame that some things you only learn after the fact. You learn the rock is slippery as soon as your foot starts sliding. You realise you’ve been Lorem Ipsum when someone starts seeing straight past you. You realise you’ve had all the good intentions in the world, but your friendship has carried no meaning, your words have floated off like feathers in the sky. When Lorem Ipsum is replaced with words you attribute meaning to – you no longer need the Lorem Ipsum.
I love words. And these words meant something to Cicero, to the great Renaissance philosophers and ethicists. Sentences constructed with intention just like I have been made with a meaning greater than the sum of my syllables – Lorem Ipsum is the real thing, not a dream. You have forgotten that I once, had meaning too.
Lorem Ipsum in the Debris.
I do believe some relationships are seasonal. And especially friendship can be deceptive, appearing mutual when both parties have different expectations and agendas. My shared stories and experiences create a narrative that we all own, my stories shared become your own and vice versa. We give meaning to each other but only if we mean it.
But no person should ever be Lorem Ipsum for another. We must be able to look each other in the eye and keep our promises – I see you, you can see me. If we treat each other like placeholders til something better comes along – we strip meaning from beauty and destroy our shared narratives. We destroy each other and ourselves.
Yes, we do this from time to time – we fill our world with those who are available to us although they do not always fulfil us. We allow ourselves to feel useful and meaningful. Of course, we do this because loneliness is a hungry wolf at the door. But once we start to feed the wolf on hollow bread, we cannot keep him from the door. Resist. Resist. Commit yourself to the meaning of those you share your stories with. And therefore choose carefully whom you love.
There is a shallow darkness in anyone that can live in such a way, to not know the ancient, wise, tenacious gift they hold in the palm of their hand. It implies an unknowing of themselves, because authenticity demands authenticity.
The storm change comes along and swept up in the river swell you become the debris on the bank. The difference between a seasonal transition in relationships and being Lorem Ipsum, is acknowledgement of the season change, thank you and goodbye. Without it, gasping for air and wondering how you missed the signs, you shirk off your sinking expectations and swim for shore.
Of course, you can choose not to become the debris. We all get caught out from time to time; not realising that while we laid out our words in perfect syntax, our Latin went unrecognised by the other. For being fooled into thinking my narrative was true, I have learned even more what authenticity looks like. I’ve realised even though people can hurt you by treating you like a spacefiller – I can free myself in a minute by letting go.
Choose not to hold on to people who don’t want to hold you back. Workplace comraderie, friendship on any scale, lovers, distant family – choose not to hold on to anything but the present moment and those who are willing to hold you. Even then, choose wisely from those who would hold your precious meaning in their hands. Letting go can feel like losing something until you remember the best thing you had in that friendship was what you made it, with your heart, your compassion, your love and soul. Even your hopes and expectations of the other were a good kind of dream. So you walk away losing nothing, because you still have yourself. You are the carrier of your meaning.
You have your purpose, becoming clearer in the days and by dream at night, a new old kind of dream. Instead of fighting the current below the bridge, you are now given the chance to cross it; a change in every direction – first up, then East instead of South and with a much larger view to the world. Remember your meaning.
You are a gift to the world, often unopened by many who drift by you but still valuable. An ancient treasure hidden in a field, a pearl inside a gnarly shell, a fragment of beauty that does not fade, an eternal force more precious than rubies. Your meaning is not taken from you by those who do not comprehend you. Perhaps they have not imagined you yet but still you are.
Cicero’s Lorem Ipsum (a fragment).
“But I must explain to you how all this mistaken idea of denouncing pleasure and praising pain was born and I will give you a complete account of the system, and expound the actual teachings of the great explorer of the truth, the master-builder of human happiness. No one rejects, dislikes, or avoids pleasure itself, because it is pleasure, but because those who do not know how to pursue pleasure rationally encounter consequences that are extremely painful. Nor again is there anyone who loves or pursues or desires to obtain pain of itself, because it is pain, but because occasionally circumstances occur in which toil and pain can procure him some great pleasure. To take a trivial example, which of us ever undertakes laborious physical exercise, except to obtain some advantage from it? But who has any right to find fault with a man who chooses to enjoy a pleasure that has no annoying consequences, or one who avoids a pain that produces no resultant pleasure?”
“On the other hand, we denounce with righteous indignation and dislike men who are so beguiled and demoralized by the charms of pleasure of the moment, so blinded by desire, that they cannot foresee the pain and trouble that are bound to ensue; and equal blame belongs to those who fail in their duty through weakness of will, which is the same as saying through shrinking from toil and pain. These cases are perfectly simple and easy to distinguish. In a free hour, when our power of choice is untrammelled and when nothing prevents our being able to do what we like best, every pleasure is to be welcomed and every pain avoided. But in certain circumstances and owing to the claims of duty or the obligations of business it will frequently occur that pleasures have to be repudiated and annoyances accepted. The wise man therefore always holds in these matters to this principle of selection: he rejects pleasures to secure other greater pleasures, or else he endures pains to avoid worse pains.”
She was about my age and had been married for three years after what seemed like a lifelong wait at the time. Turns out, she spent a good deal of her actual lifetime waiting for Harley. No one would argue that it wasn’t worth every moment. Not long after, she fell pregnant and then discovered a brain tumour. Her darling wee girl was delivered prematurely. Ruth got to be a mother, she got to live that beautiful dream for 18 months; full of hope, faith, sadness and joy. Motherhood interrupted. The lasting, indelible marks of her life will always be joy, laughter, delight and beauty. She was beautiful from the inside out. Cancer has interrupted her family and changed forever the path of her husband, daughter and dearest friends.
On Boxing Day night, I learned my darling workmate Rebecca ‘Bangs’ Hyndman, had been diagnosed with an aggressive cancer on Christmas Eve. She’s been given a few months at best but remains in critical condition. Her son, Ben, is just over four weeks old. Her husband, Jeff, now faces the interruption. Cancer, once again – getting in the way of families and people living out their purpose. Motherhood interrupted. Becs is straightforward as she always has been – she’s not going to be distracted in these last weeks from her purpose – to love her boys and do her best for them.
