Heather Chauvin

Transcript

I was walking out of the hospital that night with my husband after we were given the news. Swollen abdomen from the rapid growing tumors in my belly, numb from head to toe, unable to feel anything. I guess when you're numb, the fear can't seep in. I stood in the rain. You finally have my attention. I didn't know what or who I was talking to. All I knew was that this was something bigger than me. And then paralyzing fear that no longer numbed me, but shook me awake.

I'm dying. Oh my god. I'm failing at my life. And if I don't recover from this, my children are going to lose me. I repeated this story for months as I went through aggressive treatment. Bald, skinny, alone, I stood there and looked in the mirror. Nothing to hide behind. Tears rolling down my face. No wig, no makeup, no armor to protect me. I remember the beautiful little girl who was once so fierce and courageous, now gone. And that terrifying feeling. No one was coming to rescue me.

There was nothing anyone was able to do to take that paralyzing feeling away that everything I tried so hard to control, I was about to lose. My knees buckling now and my tears turning into puddles, I curled on the floor repeating the same old story. I'm going to die. And then in a moment of silence, another voice came in hitting me with the truth. A truth I'd been denying up until that moment of my life. And the truth was I wasn't afraid of dying.

I was afraid that I hadn't been living a life worth fighting for. I was so familiar with lack and survival mode. I knew how to hustle and work, but I didn't know how to rest. I didn't know how to enjoy rest. I had no idea how to feel alive. I hustled because I felt I had to. The responsibility was all on me. It was like I was pushing a boulder uphill solo, unable to ask for help or find an easier way.

And I realized I was enabling an identity I never wanted to have. The good mother, the good wife, the good friend, the stressed-out business owner, the strong one who held it all together. And there I was, homeless. Just existing. Barely hanging on in a home I had neglected, a home I expected so much from and gave nothing to. I was that home. There were many times in my life when I felt empty and alone, times when I didn't understand why I was alive, and other times wishing I wasn't.

And even though I wasn't proud of the life that I was living, in that moment, I decided dying wasn't an option for me. How I perceived time shifted, it became a gift. And whatever time I did have left, I was going to honor it. It was as if the universe threw me a bone and said, "Heather, do not screw this up." And all of a sudden I had time. I had time to breathe. I had time to work out. I had time to meet a good friend for a cup of coffee.

I had time to build a seven-figure business without burning out on my damn terms. I had time to train and run my first marathon. I had time and space to become whoever the hell I wanted to be. I had time to crawl into bed at night with my boys and read while my cell phone charged downstairs. I had time to learn how to feel alive while I was still living. We all do. I'm living proof. Six years have passed since stage four cancer entered and left my body.

I am living proof that we have control over our time. Proof that the more we attend to our soul cravings and the desires deep within and we act on them, the better we feel. And the bigger impact we can make in the world. So, the question shouldn't be what would you do if you knew you couldn't fail, but rather how would you show up differently if you knew what made you come alive? You finally have my attention. And this time, I will not take it for granted.

Thank you.

Transcript generated from the recording and lightly cleaned. Some names and wording may differ from the spoken speech.