It truly is a wonderful world.

Given the current events swarming us, gobbling up all of our attention and cloaking us in multiple layers of fear, it may seem odd to say that world is wonderful, but let’s look at it a little closer.

Two Years Ago

In early 2018, I thought I was flying high. I had my own small business. I felt healthy. I was helping to run a local charity. My son and I were hanging out occasionally, going to movies, having a bite to eat or just chatting. My wife and I were stronger together than ever.

I thought that having a small business was the ticket to success – at least that is what so many well-meaning (or self-serving) coaches told me. I had made some decisions in the business which made sense at the time. Those decisions were about to clip the wings of the business and I didn’t even see it coming.

Healthy? Who was I kidding. I was tricking myself into believing that, supported by the mirages fueled by short-term memory. My weight was cycling between 285 and 300 pounds. I had promised myself for years that “this was going to be the year I would lose weight” – just to reset the timeline of that goal each New Year’s Day. My cholesterol was high enough for the doctor to discuss medications to help bring it down. My blood pressure was always just above the high end of normal.

Little did I know that my son was entering a challenging time of his life that would change our relationship. Our relationship was going to be tested in many ways that I didn’t see in 2018.

My wife and were sailing along in our career choices. We were there to support the children and keep them as strong as we could. Yet we also had late nights spent separately because of outside commitments and very few daytime moments connecting together. We were strong in many ways – individually and collectively. But as a married unit, the strength of the bonds were under fire and being tested.

Sure, I thought I was flying high. What I didn’t notice was that the blinders I was wearing were hiding the cliff I was heading directly towards.

One Year Ago

At this time in 2019, I had just found out I had cancer and was starting radiation and chemotherapy. The delusion of the state of my health was unraveling. Medical tests were going to be frequent, as were the mental and emotional tests. I was no longer feeling healthy. But I had made strides in the prior year. I had made some adjustments to my diet, which brought my cholesterol into the normal range for the first time in years, but this was over-shadowed by the cancer diagnosis.

A year or so prior, I had decided that I would focus my business on helping non-profits and charities with their websites. After all, I knew website development and I ran a charity for years, so I knew the challenges that charities faced. It seemed like such a natural direction to take, but it proved to be extremely difficult to market. So many charities couldn’t see the value in a quality website and many simply didn’t have the proper funding. However strong it was on paper, this direction wasn’t flying.

What looked like a potential failure actually helped me to open my eyes and embrace another opportunity. I decided to wrap up my business and take a position with one of my clients. It turned out to be a brilliant move.

My son and I were going to the movies less frequently. Our interests were quite different. It was getting harder for me to parachute into one of his electronic game-playing sessions and play with him. He was so far ahead of me in any game, that I was more of a nuisance, bordering on pathetic! Our discussions seemed to be drifting apart too.

Prior to  my cancer-diagnosis, my wife and were still sailing in our own directions, occasionally bumping into each other. These bumps would sometimes cause us to pause and say “Hi”, other times it would annoy the shit out of each other. Once the cancer diagnosis came, there was a shift. We dusted away some of the external distractions. Necessary light and water were being sprinkled on our bonds, allowing them to grow stronger.

The cancer diagnosis was traumatic, but it was also starting to inject some much-needed reality checks into my life.

Today

I am pleased to say that I am now cancer-free and I truly feel healthier than I have in many years. Ironically, I know I am in much better health now than I was two years ago, even though the Randy back then would have told you otherwise. I am not without ongoing challenges from cancer – it certainly has a way to leave its marks behind. I still have painful neck spasms many times a day and that will likely be my normal for a long time. But I will gladly take those daily disruptions over cancer.

Besides the fabulous support from so many people, especially my wife Sue, what carried me through the cancer journey was my mindset. I knew I was going to come out on top, although there were many times when I had to force myself to keep that mindset in place. This was not always perfect. There were many times when I fall into a salt-bath of self-pity. Why me? Why my family? When was this bullshit going to end? But my strong inner knowing that I was going to be okay would eventually prevail.

Atticus and I are now reconnecting in other ways. I know a lot more about Rap music than I ever thought I would. He tells me about the music and the artists, because this is what is important to him. He is a teenager turning into a young man.

The greatest joy in my life is watching him grow, yet my biggest heartache is also watching him grow. I had to accept that he is growing and needs me less, or at least, he needs me in different ways now. His changes were a natural result of him growing up. In order to adapt to this transition, I needed to change the way I looked upon our relationship. Simply put, my mindset had to change and it did.

As the time demands of the cancer treatments began to subside, Sue and I started to resume our normal cycle of work and looking after our family. But something changed. We continued to spend time together in the evenings. Sometimes it was huddled around the table discussing Opening Hearts or how to keep a half step ahead of the kids. Other times it was just quietly watching TV together. This seemed to be a healthy side-effect of the cancer.

Common Theme

The central pattern over the past two years has been my mindset. I needed to know that I was going to pull through my encounter with cancer. I had to change how I looked upon my relationship with my son. I needed to be reminded that my marriage represents the most important relationship in my life.

These shifts in thinking may appear simple, but they collectively helped to give me the light I needed to guide me to where I am now – healthy and happy.

Reflection of the Pandemic

What I have gone though is a small, yet meaningful representation of what we all experiencing with the global pandemic

Prior to the arrival of Covid-19, many of us were flying high, basking in the muddiness of materialism, yet thinking we were winning the race. Just as cancer grabbed my attention very quickly, Covid-19 has stopped many of us in our tracks.

Similar to chemotherapy and radiation to cancer patients, the community at large is experiencing the challenges of trying to deal with this pandemic. We put our trust in the professionals that these demands being placed upon us are for our collective good. We are drained sometimes. We feel alone. We wonder when it will end. Cancer patients feel the same way.

Sadly, many cancer patients die from the disease, just as many people have died from Covid-19. This is a grim part of these realities. Yet is does cause many others to band together to try and save as many people as we can.

Thankfully, many more people do survive their encounter with Covid-19. Although the survival rate with cancer is not as high as with Covid-19, a majority of cancer patients do survive.

Side-effects are very common with cancer. My neck will never be the same – it will twitch and spasm for years to come. I had to learn to adapt to my new normal after cancer. Similarly, the world will have to adapt to the side-effects of this pandemic. The big difference is the uncertainly of what those side-effects will be. Another big difference is that we, as a community, have some choice as to what those side-effects will be. What will we learn from all of this?

Fear Sells

When the doctor first looked into my eyes and said the word “cancer”, fear was the first feeling that overtook me. My lack of knowledge of cancer immediately equated it to a death sentence. After I dodged denial, it took a while for me to learn more about the cancer I had and work my way through the fear. If I focused only on articles on-line that focused on the atrocities of cancer and the number of people dying from it, my fear would have grown. Instead, I focused on a balanced approach – respecting that cancer can have a drastic outcome, but also focusing on how to get past cancer.

Similarly, we are bombarded with fear-propagating messages in the media about Covid-19. Fear sells. Bad news sells. Worry sells. I have read some articles where the sole objective seems to fan the fire of fear. It’s no wonder that fear is a common community emotion right now.

But is doesn’t need to be.

There is absolutely nothing sexy about good news. An article about our friend who made some masks for Sue and our family will never sell a single copy. A story about people ordering groceries on-line for elderly neighbours will never appear on CNN. A news video about families sitting together to watch a movie or play a game for the first time in months (or years) will never go viral. Good news is boring.

And thankfully good news is so common that it really isn’t news. It will be a sad day when good news is so rare that it becomes news. Stories of families, neighbours and communities connecting are everywhere. The number of scientists coming together across the globe to combat Covid-19 is remarkable. The number of good things people are doing during this pandemic is huge and far outweigh the negative. We just need to look for it, because we won’t find these stories on CNN. We’ll find them in our own community.

Mother Nature is Speaking

Mother Nature has a strong voice – sometimes it is silent and other times it booms. But like many mothers, she may have a plan that will help us, even if we don’t understand it. For instance, forest fires can be devastating. A forest fire from 10,000 years ago could have wiped out a large area. Yet in its wake, lush new greenery arose.

Cancer paid a visit to me. It took its toll and forced me to go through a challenging time, but now I am stronger than I was before – physically and emotionally. I just had to pay attention to the lessons cancer was teaching me.

Using a very loud voice, Mother Nature has given our world-wide community Covid-19 to deal with. We are enduring a challenging time, but if we listen carefully, maybe we can hear what she is trying to tell us.

More people are reconnecting with their families and are learning to slow down. Is she telling us to return to a simpler way of life?

More people are saying “Hi” in public, even as we try to keep 6 feet away. Our physical distancing is causing some people to connect in other ways. Is she telling us to build stronger communities?

When the pandemic first hit, people were asked to stay at home to keep themselves safe. It didn’t work as well initially. The message to stay home was more quickly embraced when we were told it was to help keep other people safe. As a community, we seemed to care more about others than ourselves – a stark difference from what seemed apparent pre-pandemic. Is she trying to remind us to be less selfish and to serve others?

Our Choice

Maybe in its simplest terms, Mother Nature is trying to remind us that our world is remarkable, with all its highs and lows, and all its pains and triumphs. We just need to listen to the messages and have the courage to embrace them. And maybe, as we work our way through challenges like cancer or this pandemic, if we remember the messages we are being taught, our world will become even more wonderful.

It’s not just a cliché embossed in glitter on a greeting card. It’s not just an affirmation we tack to our bathroom window. It’s not just the name of a beautiful song written almost 60 years ago. It’s a simple truth wrapped up in 4 elegant words:

It’s a Wonderful World.