Sharing some personal news

*Memorial Sloan Kettering Cancer Hospital in NYC, surgery day.*

Dear friends,

It’s been a difficult few weeks. As the focus of my writing is sharing our personal stories, I wanted to let you know about what I’ve been facing. My breast cancer is back; and while it’s invasive this time, it was caught early, is curable, and I have an excellent medical team around me. Alhumdulillah.

The hardest part I feel is behind me—deciding on my treatment plan. Making this decision has been agonizing. Each doctor I spoke to had a seemingly different approach. After a lot of confusion and many tears, I understand that there is no one “right” answer, and that no treatment can guarantee I won’t have a recurrence. I’m grateful I have options.

While my treatment is multi-step and will span several months (indeed, years), once I made my decision a certain calm came over me, along with an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I am keenly aware how fortunate I am; this could have been much much worse, as it is for many. Thank God for His blessings, for the tremendous support of family and friends, and for access to the best medical care in the world. Alhumdulillah.

Please don’t feel you need to reach out, I know you’re there, and I really am doing ok. I feel the presence of each of you every time I send out a newsletter and see how many of you take the time to read it, even share a quick thought. I don’t take this lightly, as I know we are all inundated with an overflowing inbox. Thank you for being here, I feel your good energy.

If you do have a minute, and as some of you have asked what may be helpful right now, I will ask for this one favor. Will you share with me what keeps you going during hard times, whether a health challenge or anything else. Is there a wisdom or something someone said to you that gives you comfort, a book you pick up, poetry or music you listen to, a verse or quote or holy text you turn to, a spiritual practice that comforts you, a hobby you focus on, a movie or TV show that perks you up. What gets you through challenging times?

As there may be bumps in the road ahead, I would love to fortify myself with a reserve of inspirations to turn to; knowing they’re coming from my beloved humanKIND community already feels comforting. Thank you.

In this spirit, I’d like to share with you something that’s come to my mind a lot lately; it makes me feel more connected, especially as I’ve been spending many many hours in hospital waiting rooms across several states. It’s a video that I came across over a decade ago, created by the Cleveland Clinic; I mention it in my 30 Days book under the chapter on prayers.

The video takes place in the corridors of a hospital. It shows various people—some in hospital rooms, others sitting in the waiting lounge, others walking in or being wheeled out—each with a caption giving some idea of what they’re going through; most of it difficult. It’s a small glimpse into the real life of people we pass by on a daily basis, behind the façade we see. The video starts with a quote from Henry David Thoreau: “Could a greater miracle take place than for us to look through each other’s eyes for an instant.”

As I’ve been in so many waiting rooms, I too have been thinking about those around me. How are they enduring their pain; what is giving them solace; can I do something to help.

The video ends with a question: “If you could stand in someone else’s shoes. Hear what they hear. See what they see. Feel what they feel. Would you treat them differently?”

I feel this is at the heart of this humanKIND newsletter; my small attempt to bring us a little closer to each other, by sharing our stories, wisdoms, and challenges.

The last couple of days when someone has asked me how I’m doing, I pause to see if they seem actually interested, and if so, I share that things are hard. My gardener and I have only ever spoken about the drooping rose bushes or why the wisteria isn’t growing, but when he asked me how I was doing a couple days ago, I told him I had cancer, with tears in my eyes. He was visibly shocked, said he felt dizzy, and had to sit down on the stone wall by the driveway. He looked at me and said he’d pray for me every single day. I believe he will; and I’m grateful for his prayers.

I went to get my hair colored yesterday to feel a little less grey. While I’ve only been to this stylist a couple of times, I could sense something was on her mind. As we were discussing my hair shedding, I told her my news. She shared with me that two days earlier she found out that her boyfriend had pancreatic cancer. I’ll say a prayer for him.

We are each going through something, as these conversations and the video make clear. While we may seem okay on the outside, seem to have it all together, it’s hard to know what we’re really feeling, fighting, on the inside. Chances are we’re dealing with some pain, some sadness, some insecurity; it’s hard to get through life any other way.

May we treat each other with kindness. May we ask each other how we’re doing, and wait to hear an honest reply.

With all my love, and with gratitude for being here,

Salma

I posted this photo from Marrakesh on Facebook recently; people kindly wrote that I looked calm and peaceful. But two days before our Morocco trip, I had received my biopsy results; the day before this photo was taken, Arif and I told the kids about my cancer. “If we could stand in each other’s shoes …”

I’ve started listening again to the daily meditation on the Calm app. Tamara Levitt introduced me to this beautiful word that seems to encapsulate what I’m writing about; this video shares the sentiment beautifully.

Sonder: “The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness—an epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.”

--The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows

RAMADAN MUBARAK

The first fast of Ramadan starts tomorrow. I would typically be writing each day of the month through my 30 Days blog, as I have been for over a dozen years. While I may not have the energy to write each day this year, I do hope I can share some reflections this month, particularly the inspirations that are keeping me grounded, present, and moving forward with hope. If you think this may help someone, please invite them to subscribe to the newsletter here.

I would like to share the 2-minute videos about my book, 30 Days: Stories of Gratitude, Traditions and Wisdom, and the 30 Days Journal, and some information below. If you’d like to purchase these beautiful hand-made books during this auspicious month, you can do so here.

Ramadan Mubarak to all celebrating. And continued prayers for peace in Gaza.