A recurring theme in this online journal, thus far loosely focused on my heroine’s journey with cancer, has been letting go and acceptance. Like the times I wrote about letting go of our stuff, of outcomes, and of emotions like FOMO. Or when I shared my insights about what surrender means to me. These reflections are more often than not universal and apply to everyday living. Life challenges come in countless forms; cancer is but one.
There is cause for optimism that my cancer journey is behind me. Although I have not yet discussed it with my oncologists, the last PET scan report I received a few days ago shows that there appear to be no new melanomas or metastases. Yay!
Still, I am inclined to keep journaling here occasionally and invite you to stick around. If nothing else, my reflections may bring up a thought or two about your own life.
As there are a thousand thoughts lying within a man that he does not know till he takes up the pen to write.
William Makepeace Thackeray
In our last group legacy journaling session, our central topic was holding and unfolding, which are closely related to my previous musings, and so, from the prompts given, the words flowed easily for me. Even so, I gained a few new insights I can share with you today.
What I’m no longer holding
For most of my life, I’ve travelled and consider myself both a globetrotter and a world citizen. Literally from the day I was conceived I have been on the move. I’ve lived and worked in a dozen countries; last count, I’ve visited 68, many multiple times. (A bit more on that here or here).
Travel—exploring unknown places—has long been my passion and a big part of who I am.
I haven’t been everywhere, but it’s on my list.
Susan Sontag
So, it came as a bit of a jolt to me when, a few months ago, my honey and I agreed to cancel my best-laid plans for us to fly to the Maritimes (eastern Canada) to do a road trip to delight in the autumn splendour. Why? Simply because the convoluted logistics outweighed our desire for the experience; we lost the mood. And so, it did not happen.
In the past, my honey has in turn been an enthusiastic tag-along or a reluctant drag-along. Yet he’s rarely, if ever, regretted coming along on any of the adventures I planned for us. In my mind, there are still so many places in the world to explore and learn about, and yet—big sigh—the notion is now settling in that most, if not all, of those places will remain undiscovered by me or us. The itchy feet have finally settled!
It’s the realization that I’m shedding the role of globetrotter. Not denying it—that person exists in my history. World traveller will remain a key feature of my identity. But I’m recognizing that she’s not the only version of me.
And I’m not saying I’ll never board an airplane again. Who knows what the future will bring. I may be going through a down phase. Or someone may dangle a big, luscious carrot of a trip plan I cannot refuse. Que sera, sera.
Rather, I’m no longer holding on to that part of my self-concept that zealously wanted to see a new place every year. And although it saddens me a bit as I let that sink in, it’s not an overwhelming emotion. I’m still going with the flow. It’s not as if there aren’t places to explore by car in this beautiful province we now live in.
What is unfolding
Then something deeper popped up worth exploring again. This journaling reminded me of a second insight, and it relates to this quote:
It’s our own ability to have an idea and go after the idea and make it happen. That’s what at the end of the day defines us.
Satya Nadella
For most of my adult life, I believed with Nadella that making things happen defined me. But I’m learning I don’t have to be the architect of every experience. Much like my earlier reflection on surrendering, this again chips away at my need to control. And that may be the larger piece of wisdom that has arisen for me this week.
I can now live without big, audacious goals. Going with the flow of life has taken on a gentler meaning for me as I surrender to the aging process.
I’m transitioning from doing to being. Perhaps that’s the real adventure—learning to embrace again what unfolds, rather than always chasing what’s next.
I’d love to hear from you: What adventure are you discovering in the letting go?
Your next step
If my journaling resonates with you, and you feel you’re ready to embark on your own guided journaling, I invite you to sign up for Ardis Mayo’s waiting list to hear about the next round of her Journaling Circle. She’s whispered to me that tentatively the next one will start early in the new year. Something to look forward to!
PS. I also invite you to sign up to get notified when I post. Go to and click on the hamburger (three horizontal lines) at the top right of the page and submit your email. Your address is safe with me.
Such good news here, Francisca!
Your health is good and your new home is a beautiful place that seems to be feeding your growth and happiness. Your transition from doing to being sounds rich. I imagine your vast understanding of the world and the people in it will serve you in this unfolding time of a “Gentler Adventure”.
I am happy to hear that you will continue to blog here. Your wit and wisdom add much to my growth.
This next year for me has already begun with seedlings from my work that began in November 2020.
We are celebrating Thanksgiving in the USA this week and my pondering about what I am most grateful for is best described here: “I am grateful for my senses, especially my 6th sense. My intuition keeps me heart-centered and connected to my purpose and my Better Self.” Mine is an adventure into being more of who I am and to offer what I am here to contribute, as my journey continues.
I am looking forward to more of your beautiful photos on FB and more of your wisdom that flows in your blog. You are a blessing!
Oh, dear Patti, thanks for your kind words. It’s been a delight to watch the seedlings you’ve planted nurtured, now growing. Such meaningful work, and yes, I am sure your heart-centeredness combined with deep and lived knowledge will keep you going in the right direction. We will remain connected. 🌸🙏🌸
Hi, Francisca,
You, like me and the rest of us, are growing old, and the stress of travelling has begun to outweigh the excitement and stimulation of new lands & people. You have to accept this.
I and my Lady companion were in the Maritime States of Canada last Fall, a lifetime experience, and a tour of the countries of Central America in the Spring of this year ticked off so many boxes in our “to do” list.
2026 will see us “restricted” to a visit to Dublin, Ireland, in March for St. Patrick’s Day and to see the Book of Kells, a cruise down the Scottish & Irish coastlines in June, and a coach trip (I had to surrender my driving licence for medical reasons in 2024) to Bruges in Belgium in October. A very modest program compared to years past.
My fight with cancer was in 2O14, when my oesophagus and 14 lymph glands were removed. I have followed your story with interest and sympathy; you are a fighter like myself. Unfortunately, a lady whom I dearly loved, succumbed to ovarian cancer which was diagnosed too late when it was already at Stage 4. She was a fighter, but we laid her to rest last month.
I hope & trust we will have many more “issues” of “My Heroine’s Journey” and that my Wordle attempts will continue to be joined by yours.
Hi Alan! Let me first express my sympathy for both your own medical challenges and the loss of your loved one. Cancer sucks.
Indeed acceptance of our realities is the most graceful way to handle challenges, whatever they are. Surely that is the way to inner peace and emotional balance.
Your “restricted” travel sounds quite marvelous to me. I’m quite familiar with Belgium, as my mother lived in Bruges in her youth and I was born in Brussels. Ireland was one of the many places I still wanted to visit.
And yes, Wordle remains the daily game to keep the brain active. LOL. Thanks for your encouragement and for leaving a note, Alan. 🌸🙏🌸
Is Edinburgh on your “to do” list, Francisca?
Unfortunately there’s no direct flight from Vancouver to Edinburgh, but if you & Lordson wish to visit and have the courage to change flights in Newark, I can put my ground floor apartment (we say “flat”) at your disposal as I’ll ‘decant’ to my partner’s apartment 150 metres away.
Either (or both) of us would be delighted to be your guide to the many historical sites in “Auld Reekie”, and if you like “classical” music, introduce you to our magnificent Usher Hall.
First, Alan, thanks for the kind invitation! Sweet! We always prefer travel that includes meeting up with the locals; always makes the connection and exploration more meaningful. And yes, my honey and I both listen to classical music. I was in Edinburgh in 1978! And it was lying on a cold floor in a stonewalled room with a high ceiling that I made the decision to apply to go to law school. The rest is history. I’ll let you know if we get our mojo to get on airplanes back.
I often wonder what the oak tree (and others) ‘feel’ as they release their beautiful leaves and stand bare in the cold winter winds. I am sure it has to do with their roots which are entwined with others in ways we don’t fully understand. So too…our lives become entwined with others, most of whom we never see (like the readers of our blogs) and give us strength and courage when we feel like we have given up so much. Could it be that we have just begun to travel deep instead of wide??
Travel deep instead of wide… a profound thought, Ardis. Reframing “experiences” into “learnings” is a meaningful step towards the deeper wisdom. 🌸🙏🌸