What is a full life? Is it a number? 85 years. Or is it a concept? “A life well lived”. How do you live a life well anyway? “Be kind whenever possible?” (Hint: It’s always possible). Or leave this world a better place than when we arrived? Is that really possible? What is ‘better’ anyway? A lot of questions to explore. And often no easy answers. But as we embark on a new journey (and no doubt adventure), we’ll give it a try and share our observations of life and the world from our perspective.

So, we’re heading out into the great wide open. From our safe little corner of the world, we’re ready to live out loud. Our plan is to travel for a year, probably two, maybe longer. We’re playing it by ear. Let me explain why. 

Last December 2023, we received some startling news. My long-standing blood disorder had suddenly progressed into a much less desirable rare condition called Myelofibrosis. This all happened almost exactly a year after Linda received her breast cancer diagnosis. So here we were, nearing the end of her breast cancer treatment program and now learned of another major health challenge. Well, it wasn’t exactly what we expected. Instead, we had anticipated, in fact, looked forward to jubilation and carefree days together (and many more to come) and no worries. 

The thing is this. We did know about this risk when I was first diagnosed with Polycythemia Vera more than two decades ago. PV, for short, is known to spontaneously morph into more serious conditions – acute leukemia being the most dramatic. Yet, we hung onto the possibility that it wouldn’t and that I would live out my full natural life since I was otherwise healthy and relatively young for such a dire diagnosis. And why not? The probability of acute leukemia was quite low so we went with the best possible scenario. And for a long time, it seemed our wishful thinking was working. Something has to be said for an optimistic and positive outlook. We are both excellent at that. As I sing in one of my recent songs “One More Time“: 

“I’d rather be optimistic and look for the light  

Instead of pessimistic and probably right” 

So we forgot about the other possibilities and lived only with the best possible outcome – a long full life expectancy. Except now, it’s not. And the inconvenient truth is staring us right in the face. 

My hematologist told us she could run a few different “scenarios” to let us know what my average life expectancy would be now with this new diagnosis – three different calculators that she could use. I thought, “Wow, that is cool.” I mean really, how many of us live our lives with that level of clarity about our life expectancy? It is only those with terminal illnesses who get a chance to pin a number to their final breath. And we awaken suddenly to the reality of the impermanence of our lives. 

We declined all three scenarios (too much info) and instead suggested that perhaps we would rather receive ‘a ballpark number’ (doesn’t that sound absurd when we’re talking about how long one might live) so we could ‘plan’ accordingly. Then again, what do you plan really? The funeral? How many more socks to buy before they become obsolete? The “ballpark” she gave us was 5-10 years. I haltingly asked whether I might live longer than that. “That’s not impossible, right? And maybe there will even be a cure one day, no?” She agreed that “yes, of course”, that’s possible but that a cure is probably not in sight within my time-frame. We both took in the news in a rather composed manner. We already knew that something wasn’t quite right. Leading up to the meeting (in fact, the reason for the meeting) were all the changes in my health this past year. Frequent fevers, persistent infections, significant and unexplained weight loss, several trips to the emergency room. It was evident that something bad was happening in my body. 

The tide had finally turned. In life, we are dealt cards, not of our choosing, but we still need to play them the best way we can (that is our choice). So once again, we choose the light, we choose illumination. Like a sequel. “Illumination 2 – Now it’s His Turn!!!”. And to be fair, this news was better than acute leukemia. Better than dying right now. It is even good news that I may have 5 (or more) healthy years left. We can live every day we are alive as a blessing. Yes, Linda could mourn the loss of me already but instead she chooses to appreciate me being here right now, cracking my jokes, goofing around, making her smile, loving her with all my heart, as I always have and always will. 

So our adventure begins. We’ll be travelling around the world for the next few years. We’ve leased out our home, sold our car, donated what we don’t need and others can use, packed everything else into 30 black and yellow storage boxes and stashed them away in our crawlspace. Yeah, we are a little crazy but we are now light as dandelion seeds – unburdened by material possessions. Our lives now consist of one suitcase and two carry-ons. And a pharmaceutical treasure trove of medications that we’ll need to bring with us. That’s it. 

Our plan is to just live in the now and be in the world. So much to see. So many places to go. We’ll move with the wind, wake up and eat mysterious fruits for breakfast, converse in body languages with old grandmas selling mangos by the roadside, fall asleep in new cities where we don’t speak the language, eat delicious food and have no idea what we’re eating, write poetry on napkins in local coffeeshops, be amused at traditional festivals, dances, immerse ourselves and disappear in culture, walk hand in hand on beaches, country roads, mountain hikes, ocean trails, crowded marketplaces, just be and enjoy each moment gifted to us. 

So here’s to life and being a little crazy. (hmmm, that’s a great song title! 😊)