The Cancer of Caring

Let's take a moment to pause on this day, World Cancer day, and say, "I care," to those that continue to fight against the disease. We remember, and pay tribute to those that have fallen in this terrible battle.

 World Cancer day offers the opportunity to highlight another subtle and deadly form of the disease, the cancer of caring. It has oozed it's way into the deepest fabric of our societies, infected the bone marrow of our social economies, and eats away at the very core of our coexistence. You may think the claim is crazy, and have possibly never noticed the symptoms, but I promise you; the disease has already infected you.

  I first diagnosed the cancer at a breakfast with Ben. He is an elderly gentleman with a kind heart, and a lot of wisdom to share. Once a week, Ben and I go for breakfast at a popular restaurant chain. Each week, we are greeted by friendly faces always eager to wait at our table. As usual, Ben will greet each waiter by their name, making sure he pronounces it correctly, "as it's a form of respect and validation."

 The person taking our order is always subjected to Ben's inquiry of their health, wealth or spiritual well being. Ben is particular about always making eye contact when they speak to him, and acknowledges what they have said with questions and feedback. He always finds time to share a joke or two, not only with our waiter, but with each one that comes to the table to say hello. His friendly manner has the waiters eager to be the lucky one to serve him.

  One day, while waiting for Ben, one of the usual waiters asked his whereabouts, and proceeded to share that he had never met anyone quite like Ben. "He talks to me like I am human. He is interested in my personal condition." The young man's eyes welled up with tears as he spoke. "He treats me kind, like my job is important to him, like I am important to him."

 I quietly pondered what that young man must have endured at the hands of the restaurant's patrons to be so impacted by the dottering kindness of an elderly man. The waiter's customers must be cold and uncaring, I thought, for him to be so impressed by Ben's validation. That's when the idea for the cancer of caring struck me.

 The constant badgering and harassment by begging strangers makes people avoid eye contact. The constant threat of a con or a possible robbing makes citizens brace themselves when the go into public spaces, like knights going to battle. The constant abuse and threats has turned ordinary people into callous, uncaring, coldhearted assholes. Yes, that's a harsh judgement, unfairly placed on a person that has been made hard by circumstances beyond his or her control. As a society, we have allowed what should be a little infection easily resolved, to spiral out of control until it grew in to full-blown cancer of caring.

 Suddenly, good people turn a blind eye to elderly folk needing a helping hand. Kind-hearted individuals drive past neighbours in dire need, too afraid to get involved. This behaviour allows the cancer to infiltrate every aspect of our daily cohabitation. We sow seeds of uncaring hoping to harvest harmony and mutual support. No, my friend, what you sow is what you will reap.

  Just choosing to stay does not heal the cancer. Never mind the politicians. Deliberately choosing to be a responsible citizen provides the healing chemo treatments. Its actively caring for our neighbours that sends the disease into remission, heals our land and restores hope for a sustainable nation. I choose to follow Ben's example of simply validating people in my space. I choose to make eye contact. I choose to ask your name and make sure I can pronounce it correctly. I choose to be the hero that offers help to others in their time of need. If we reap what we sow, then let's choose to sow "I care."