Navigating Life with Cancer: A Journey of Healing and Evolution.

It is too hot to read (109 degrees in Sacramento), so I decided to take a break from my book. Ironically, I have never stretched out a book of only 155 pages for so long in my life. That book is The Four Agreements by Don Miguel Ruiz. I am enjoying it more than I expected. I talk about cancer a lot because cancer has impacted my life in such a huge way. But reading Ruiz’s words while still actively navigating this cancer journey has sparked something different in me. I am slowly learning to reflect, even when it hurts.

So far, I have read the first three agreements: Be Impeccable with Your Word, Don’t Take Anything Personally, and Don’t Make Assumptions. I will get to the fourth one, “Always Do Your Best,” once this heatwave lets up. But already, the first three agreements are making me rethink everything—from how I handle my cancer diagnosis to how I talk to myself, to how I treat others.

Integrating The Four Agreements with Cancer Recovery

This makes me wonder: how do I incorporate these into my everyday life? Why do I find it so hard to apply them? Am I hoping for too much too soon? Does everyone have some sort of trauma that makes healing from cancer feel impossible? Or am I just too broken by this cancer diagnosis to move forward?

The truth is, I am still so mad at everything. I am trying hard to let go, to forgive people, to forgive life itself for giving me glioblastoma. But most days, I want to hide from everyone and everything. Reading books like The Four Agreements helps. They are small steps—gentle reminders that I am allowed to be human, to hurt, to grieve through my cancer experience. Still, I often find myself wondering how to stop feeling so angry, so betrayed by my own body.

And then comes the guilt. Do I sound like a Debbie Downer who cannot get over himself? Do the people in my life secretly wish I would just suck it up and move on? Am I annoying them as much as I am annoying myself? I ask myself these questions daily. And the answer might be yes. Or no. Or both. What I know for sure is that pretending to be okay all the time through cancer is exhausting. And it is a performance I know all too well.

The Act We Learn to Put On with Cancer

I hate the phrase “putting on an act.” But is that not what we all do, sometimes, just to survive cancer? When I was a kid, I acted straight. I acted tough. I acted like I had it all figured out. As Ruiz says, these patterns are part of the old agreements we make when we are young—society’s rules, our family’s expectations, the masks we think we have to wear. Over time, those masks become habits. And before we know it, we are living a life that does not always feel honest, especially during cancer battles.

Living with cancer shattered a lot of those masks. Suddenly, I could not pretend I was fine anymore. I could not lie to myself about how fragile I was. But that also opened a door to healing. As hard as this journey is, I think it is forcing me to strip away the old stories and start writing a new one. One where I get to be flawed. One where I get to cry, yell, and question everything. One where I do not have to be strong all the time while facing cancer.

Maybe This is the Healing Process

So, to answer my original question: maybe this is part of healing from cancer. Maybe the tears, the anger, the self-pity—all of it—is part of the transformation. Maybe I am not stuck; maybe I am evolving. Maybe healing from cancer does not look like sunshine and yoga mats. Maybe it looks like long nights, sweaty brows, and books clutched in trembling hands. Maybe it looks like writing this blog post with tears in my eyes because I am finally telling the truth.

I want to believe that I am not broken by cancer. That I am, instead, being rebuilt. And books like The Four Agreements are helping. They do not solve the pain, but they give me tools. Tools I never had before. Like the courage to ask myself, “What would it mean to be impeccable with my word today?” Maybe it means telling my husband that I am scared. Maybe it means forgiving myself for skipping a doctor’s appointment. Maybe it means saying, “I need help.”

The Quiet Victories of Everyday Life with Cancer

Despite the chaos inside me, I find comfort in the fact that I am trying. Every day, I do something—anything—to move forward. Some days, it takes every ounce of my strength just to smile and get out of bed. But I do it. I work full-time. I cook dinner. I take care of my dog. I support my husband. I pay bills. In short: I live with cancer. And that is no small thing.

That does not mean I am not still screaming inside. That does not mean I feel whole. But it does mean I am fighting cancer. It means I am choosing to show up. Maybe I do not show up perfectly. Maybe I mess up. Maybe I get it wrong more often than not. But I am present. I am here. And for today, that is enough.

Final Reflections on Living with Cancer

Cancer has changed me. It has stripped me raw. It has humbled me. But it has also made me hungry—for meaning, for truth, for peace. I am still learning. I am still trying to live out the teachings of Ruiz. And even though I have only read the first three agreements, they have already left a mark. I am eager to read the fourth when my brain cools down along with the weather.

If you are also navigating cancer, or grief, or any massive life change, I want you to know something: you are not weak for struggling. You are not broken for feeling lost. You are not alone for being angry. You are evolving. You are waking up. And it is okay to take your time.

Keep going. One page at a time. One breath at a time. One agreement at a time.

Helpful Resources for Cancer Support

• Buy The Four Agreements
• Official Don Miguel Ruiz Website
• More Cancer Blogs from JohnVsGBM

Tags: Cancer, Glioblastoma, Healing, Four Agreements, Emotional Recovery, Spiritual Growth, Cancer Mindset, JohnVsGBM

Disclaimer: This blog shares a personal reflection and is not medical advice. Always consult your healthcare provider for medical care. If in crisis, please call or text 988.