Eighteen months after my mother suddenly passed away, I was diagnosed with grade four brain cancer. I was 25 years old.
Wow. When I put it like that, it really puts the last five years of my life into perspective.
We all want to become great, but we don’t get to live the life we want without suffering.
The greatest honor I’ve had through this entire experience is to inspire others through my journey. It wasn’t easy. Actually, it was extremely difficult. But if I can make it easier for you—my job is complete.
One of my greatest honors in my journey was to inspire my own father. It’s every son’s dream. Without knowing it, I inspired my father to get in control of his health.
Nine months after my cancer diagnosis, I moved back home with him. Into a house with a 70-year-old widower showing early signs of Parkinson’s disease. It was my first time living at home with my dad since I was 19—and this time, my mom wasn’t there. That transition was hard, to say the least. Back at home, finally in that safe space again… but I’m missing my mom, and he’s missing his wife.
Still, despite our differences (I punched a hole in the wall), I persevered every day in telling him I knew I could heal from this cancer. He encouraged me to take chemotherapy, I pushed for alternative treatments. He pushed for a Christian mindset, I aimed for a Taoist one. Yin and Yang. Father and son.
It has been two years of living in the house with him, and I can say things are going well, and I love my father. Our deep challenges have only brought us closer.
About 17 months into my cancer journey, my father was then diagnosed with a condition. He had surgery, lost a lot of weight, and began taking his health seriously. Today, he goes to the gym, swims, and even does a Tai Chi sword class. At some point, he told me that I was actually the reason he started believing in his own ability to recover. It is incredibly rewarding to know that my choice to be brave in a world full of suffering can inspire others to take action.
If you are suffering right now, I feel you. A lot of people are in the same boat as you.
I want you to know that it will get better.
If you are reading this right now, it already has. You are already feeling better. I want you to know that you telling your story helps other people. You’re on your way up. One day at a time. People love a redemption arc. Sometimes you need to hit rock bottom before you can rise up again. You can do it. You are, in fact, already doing it.
Depression, check.
Cancer, check.
Dead mom, check.
I mean—some people definitely have it a lot worse. At least I had a mom. At least I didn’t have cancer for the first 25 years of my life. At least I grew up with two parents who loved me. I had friends, food, and shoes. When you get another chance to live, you realize that all you really need is the humility to admit you aren’t perfect. Friends, food, shoes, and purpose. A way to contribute. If you’re lost because you feel like you have no purpose and nothing to contribute, start now. Please, if you are suffering, tell your story. It helps other people. Dare I even say that you are being selfish by not sharing your story?
It’s all about perspective. Sometimes I ponder why I lost years of my life battling this disease—but then I remember that the knowledge I gained far surpasses any amount that I could learn in fifty years of a healthy life.
Yes, I guess I’ve led some sort of a life so far.
But that begs the question, what does it mean to lead a life?
With that said: I’ve always wondered what a life coach is, or what qualifies someone to be one. I guess it’s anyone who has a life that you would like to emulate… So I just pay someone else to give me encouragement? Well, no—I’m sure it’s deeper than that.
I think that everyone in your life can be viewed as a coach. Some coaches are good, some aren’t so good. But everyone pushes us in a certain direction. It could be a friend, an enemy, a stranger. A teacher, a weirdo, a YouTuber you’ve never met.
You can be a coach too, especially if you have suffered through the pain.
If your life has always been a breeze—good, I am happy for you, and congratulations.
But if you feel like there’s no reason to live, that the world is ending, and that it couldn’t get worse… first of all—you’re wrong. It can always get worse. And—it can get a lot, lot better.
It’s all a matter of perspective. In one way, my mother’s death was the most tragic and unnecessary event to ever happen in my life.
In another way, my mother’s death was a necessary step for my family to come together in unity and praise for the homemaker—it forced me to grow up and made me learn how to take on my own responsibilities—no longer a mama’s boy, but now a man.
In one way, being diagnosed with brain cancer at the age of 25 was a devastating and unwarranted attack from God placed upon a motherless boy who always tried to be a good person.
In another way, being diagnosed with cancer at the age of 25 was exactly what God needed to do to make me stop taking life for granted—and to grow into the hero that He has always wanted me to be. God placed a ball of pure energy deep inside my skull where it couldn’t be seen—and once discovered, the responsibility was placed on me to either surrender and let it take over, or to transform that energy into positivity and send a message of love into the world.
If it weren’t for those events happening to me—or FOR me—you wouldn’t be reading this article right now.
And YOU—yes, you.
You have a story to tell, and I look forward to hearing it.
I trust that you found this article to be helpful, and I would like to end it with a prayer.
Even though I am suffering right now, I fully and completely accept myself.
Even though I want more, I am fully satisfied with what I already have.
Even though I am lost as to what to do with my life, I am grateful that I remain alive in this moment.
Even if things don’t go exactly the way I want them to go, I fully trust that whatever is meant for me will come to me—as long as I remain strong amidst the suffering.