When I sit still in the middle of the day, I fall asleep. I'm not sure if it's a side effect of cancer or of life in general, but as a result, I keep myself moving at all times. I'm always doing something -- writing, emptying the dishwasher, packing a school lunch, reorganizing cabinets and closets and drawers. There's always something to fiddle with, something to keep my body from crashing into a deep sleep.
My little boys have been playing with Lego all afternoon. For hours they have been content and happy and full of imagination. They've built flying boats and castles and pirate contraptions. My wish: to just sit and watch them, to absorb their words, their sound effects, their interactions.
I tried to just sit and watch, tried to hone my quiet observation skills. And then I fell sleep.
It's a dozing-off kind of sleep that creeps up on me and for brief moments, I am lost to the world, sometimes even dreaming for short periods of time. So I find I am more alert and productive in the study of my children when my mind is busy with some sort of task. It's not my ideal scenario. But I figure it's better to be awake and bonding with my boys -- even if it means I'm multitasking -- than sleeping through their special moments.
My boys are still building -- they are making flags for their ships -- and I'm awake. And writing and preparing dinner too.


What a gift it would be if it were possible to sleep through cancer, literally sleep through the entire experience -- from diagnosis through the end of treatment -- and wake up on the other end of the bad dream. Unfortunately, this isn't possible. We must be alert and aware and active in our own plans for survival. All we are typically permitted are now-and-then naps and nighttime sleep -- if we can manage to actually sleep at night.
In
Cancer has helped me slow down -- a little. I am more patient in the moment without racing to the next task I think is waiting for me. I can better manage my priorities and can offer the most important things the majority of my time. I am better at passing on opportunities that are low on my wish list. And I can typically say "no" if I don't have the time or energy to devote to a request. I know that I have to be healthy and happy and fulfilled in order to operate effectively and joyfully in this world. So I try to enjoy peaceful moments and put priorities first and not overextend myself and slow down. I'm not completely there -- yet. But I plan to keep practicing. And I'm going to try these seven strategies -- offered by a freelance writer, wife, mother of two, and reformed over-committer -- in an article I stumbled across in a local family magazine I picked up this week.
Let's say you do not work in the scientific or medical fields but someone told you that you just might be the
one to find a cure for cancer -- would you say -- no way! It's possible. From the comfort of your own home,
while you are cooking, or sleeping, or taking a shower, a cure for cancer could be found because of you. If you have a
computer, Internet access and a willingness to share your unused time online, a project called 







