A Dog Took a Steaming Dump on My 7-Year Dream (So I Killed Them)
*Killed the dreams, not the dog.
They don’t let cancer patients do much.
Medical experts say that’s because sick people need rest. I say it’s discrimination. Just because I barely have the strength to lift a fork shouldn’t prevent me from driving a forklift.
But my 20 minutes browsing WebMD isn’t the same as a medical degree (according to the big wigs at Big Medicine), so I listened to my doctors and did nothing. And over my 244 days in hospital, I did a LOT of nothing.
As a circuit breaker, I’d occasionally send my Dad to McDonald’s to buy Chicken McNuggets while I looked up naughty videos on my laptop. I sincerely hope no one was tracking those Google searches via the free hospital Wi-Fi.
“Sexy nurse gives soapy sponge bath video”
“How to ask for a soapy sponge bath?”
“Can you overdose on Chicken McNuggets?”
With my body out of commission, I let my mind go on adventures beyond sud-filled bathtubs and around the world. My primary incentive to live was to rub it in the face of my enemies. Running a close second was the desire to see the world.
And the #1 destination I wanted to visit after my illness…
Easter Island.
Don’t ask me why, but something in my soul told me that every second of pain at the end of a chemo line and every trembling terror in the surgery room would be washed away on that island.
So I aimed my life at that dream, endured every gut punch cancer threw, and set myself the goal of making it there someday.
🗿🗿🗿
7 years later I booked my dream trip to Easter Island
I remember standing in line at an airport in Chile behind a guy with a sticker on his bag that read:
“A Coconut a Day Keeps the Doctor Away”.
I appreciated the sentiment and wondered for a second if I could have avoided the whole “leukemia shemozzle” if I’d eaten more coconuts as a child.
Looking back, I don’t think my Mum served a single coconut at family dinner. Plus, everyone knows Bounty is the WORST addition to a box of assorted chocolates, so my chances of coconut-adjacent products were at unhealthy low levels.
After a 5-hour and 40-minute flight from Chile, I left my bags at the homestay and walked straight to the closest Moai I could find— the massive stone heads you’ve seen in photos or possibly one of the Night At The Museum films.
By the time I found the nearest Moai, the sun was setting and I could sense magic in the air.
Over the previous seven years, I’d been diagnosed with PTSD, acute AND generalized anxiety disorder (collecting the whole set like a BOSS). I’d been through more therapists than I could count on one hand (I need my hands to count). And I fought panic with more relaxation and breathing techniques than a monk-turned-yoga teacher.
Truthfully, my post-cancer mental health had taken more beatings than a party host who dared offer me a Bounty.
Remission is a double-edged sword like that. You’re beyond thankful for what you’ve been gifted and cursed with an endless terror at having it all ripped away again.
That’s why I’d dreamed of the cleansing power of this island for 2,555 days. Deep down, I knew every broken piece of me was about to be put back together.
So I pulled out my clunky digital camera, alone on an island thousands of miles from home, and I’m not ashamed to admit that tears rolled down my face—tears of joy, some sadness, but all filled with hope for the future.
I felt I’d finally be able to say goodbye to the ‘Alexander’ who entered the hospital and begin my shiny post-cancer life as a new, healed man. With a towering row of Moai in front of me, I raised that camera to my eye and pressed the button with a gentle *click*.
Wiping away tears, I looked down at the photo. A moment that would capture the freedom I’d longed for in every panicked breath and catastrophic thought that had chased me out the hospital door and around the world.
This was a seven-year dream.
And there’s a dog taking a shit on it.
Beware the danger of “If I had this, I’d have that”
I thought my health anxiety problems would go away if I went to Easter Island.
⚠️ Spoiler Alert: They didn’t.
I only know as much about you as I can gather from peering in your bathroom window at night, but I guarantee you’re guilty of this mental arithmetic, too. Also, you’re flossing too hard, use your thumb and forefinger to have more control near the tooth.
There are dreams, goals, aspirations - use whatever word you want - that you’re pinning your hopes on. You, me, all of us think that certain milestones will lead us down the path towards our perfect life.
These could be things like:
If I can gain/lose weight… I’ll finally feel good about my body.
If I can earn more at my job… I’ll finally feel like a success.
If I can secure that promotion… I’ll finally feel happy in my life.
If I can figure out who’s peering in my window at night… I’ll finally be able to sleep with the blinds open.
And look, these achievements might change the way you feel about yourself. There’s nothing wrong with chasing a new job or wanting to look hot on Instagram.
But more likely, success won’t change your baseline emotional state.
Instead, you’ll reach the next rung on your personal ladder and go, “Is this really it?”
How many times have you completed your stacked to-do list only to realize there’s even more to do, which further depletes your work/life balance?
Maybe you’ve landed a big promotion that comes with a bigger pay rise, but you still feel anxiety and pressure snarling at your brain.
“If I can just achieve this… I’d finally have that.”
It turns out there’s a misguided gap between achievements and happiness. Actually, it’s more of a chasm.
One study showed that 72% of successful entrepreneurs suffer from mental health problems. CEOs may be depressed at double the rate of the general public. And losing weight might make you healthier - but studies show it can actually lead to lower levels of happiness.
These all reflect the Arrival Fallacy, the idea that seeking a certain goal will result in happiness.
⚠️ Spoiler Alert: Bruce Willis is already dead in The Sixth Sense.
Sorry, wrong spoiler alert.
I meant to say that reaching your long-awaited goal is no guarantee you’ll feel happier, calmer, or any other adjective you’re chasing. If you’re not careful, you can end up being pushed further in the wrong direction.
In the wise words of Harvard Professor Arthur Brooks:
The insatiable goals to acquire more, succeed conspicuously, and be as attractive as possible lead us to objectify one another and even ourselves. When people see themselves as little more than their attractive bodies, jobs, or bank accounts, it brings great suffering…You become a heartless taskmaster to yourself, seeing yourself as nothing more than Homo economicus. Love and fun are sacrificed for another day of work in search of a positive internal answer to the question: Am I successful yet? We become cardboard cutouts of real people.
This isn’t a shot at you for wanting to better your life, by the way. That’s noble as f*ck.
You’ve got ambitions that go beyond wearing rags, sleeping in rags, and generally living a rag-centric life and I’m proud of you for that.
Don’t listen to anyone who says you can’t strive for success or set ambitious goals whether that’s making more of an impact, making more money, or making tiny voodoo dolls of everyone who’s wronged you.
But when you place the heavy weight of responsibility for your emotional well-being on people, places, and personal achievements, you’re likely to be crushed.
How to overcome the ‘Arrival Fallacy’ and live a happy, kick-ass life
Too many self-help authors will tell you that happiness exists on the other side of selling your worldly possessions and becoming a minimalist (while signing up for their conveniently priced course).
Lucky for you, I’m not a self-help author.
I don’t care what you do.
Sorry, that came out rude.
I don’t care what you want to do. Overtake Elon Musk as the richest man in the solar system. Land your dream job sweeping up vomit under the rollercoaster at the travelling fair. Learn to whistle without putting your fingers in your mouth.
We get one crack at this life.
Before you know it, you’re sending your Dad to McDonald’s while you gather the courage to ask Nurse Stacey if the hospital has a sponge bath policy (they don’t, boo 👎).
Go out and do whatever the hell you want.
But if doing these things doesn’t make you feel like your best self - the way visiting Easter Island didn’t magically make my mental health problems vanish - you might be falling victim to the ‘Arrival Fallacy’.
I’ve heard a lot of rumours about you (I’ve started a lot of rumours about you too), and one of ‘em was that you were looking for more balance than a Chinese gymnast on a gold medal run (emotionally speaking).
In the pursuit of emotional balance, here are a couple of ways to avoid falling into the “If I have this, I’ll have that” trap.
Option #1 - Flip your perspective
It’s time to start watching yourself a little closer.
I’m not recommending you install CCTV cameras in every corner of your home or hire a full-time assistant to follow you around with a recording iPhone - that would be far too expensive and, honestly, you’re a bit silly for even suggesting it.
Instead, watch for the little things.
Most people hyper-fixate on the finish line and the expected happiness it will bring.
Research published in Harvard Business Review found that “small wins” actually bring more happiness than waiting to celebrate the one “big thing”.
I shouldn’t have waited until I touched down on Easter Island to try and celebrate my mental health progress. Those wins were occurring regularly for years, and I never celebrated as I should.
Every day without a catastrophic thought was a win. Every trip to the doctor’s office without a panic attack was a win. Getting through every movie scene of some kid dying of cancer was a win.
If I’d flipped my perspective, I would have been winning consistently without relying on Easter Island to act as an arbitrary finish line.
So, what wins are you experiencing that are going uncelebrated?
Look for ‘em in your routine and you’ll realize you’ve been taking more baby steps than you might have given yourself credit for. Celebrate those bad boys. Any accomplishment - no matter how small - releases the neurotransmitter dopamine, which boosts mood and motivation.
Celebrate every step in the race, not at the finish line. 🎉
Option #2 - Reframe your dreams as projects
This one is so simple that a dog could understand it (I read this out loud to my dog to confirm and he farted and left the room… tell me that’s not an affirmation!).
DREAMS are hopeful targets you might hit someday (“I want the perfect body and I want the dream job.”)
PROJECTS are something you’re always working towards (“I’m going to keep working to feel good about my body and be the best employee I can be”).
The former creates a finished line that’s either impossible to reach (cue sad music) or leaves you feeling empty when you reach it (sad music continues).
The latter is an ongoing application of who you are and what you want to achieve that allows you to celebrate and invite happiness at every stage.
When you reframe your dreams as projects, they become a starting point, not a finish line.
I was never going to find peace on Easter Island. I should have seen it for what it was - another step on my journey to manage my mental health challenges and live a happy, healthy post-cancer life.
In the words of Leonardo Da Vinci (he was the blue ninja turtle, right?):
“Art is never finished, only abandoned”.
So, what project are you working on that’s going to make you feel like the best version of yourself? What are you unwilling to abandon in your pursuit of happiness? And what would your life look like if you could start celebrating before you arrived?
Whatever your answer, don’t stress if you’re not where you want to be yet.
You’re on the path, and I cannot wait to see where it takes you.
With love,
New World Porter.
P.S. If you enjoyed this post, leave a like or comment with the button below (takes 0.46 seconds) so I can think terribly filthy thoughts about you.
I’m a huge fan of this post. Your humor and digressions are so fun! This was a hard reality I had to shit within the last two years… my most intense one “if I just have another baby, all the pain from infertility, miscarriages, and having my first baby die, will go away!” Obviously it did not 🙄🫠🙃
I should unfollow you for dissing on Bounty- it's one of my favorite bars.