Since cancer, I feel like I have dreams rather than ambitions, visions rather than plans.
Interpretation
The quote expresses a shift in perspective from rigid ambitions to more fluid dreams and visions after experiencing cancer.
Eve Ensler's quote reflects a profound transformation in her approach to life following her battle with cancer. It suggests that facing such a life-altering challenge has led her to prioritize dreams over specific ambitions and to embrace visions rather than detailed plans. This change highlights the importance of flexibility and openness in pursuing one's passions and hopes, particularly after encountering significant adversity.
In practice
In a motivational speech about overcoming adversity and embracing dreams.
Dancing insists we take up space, and though it has no set direction, we go there together. Dance is dangerous, joyous, sexual, holy, disruptive, and contagious and it breaks the rules. It can happen anywhere, at anytime, with anyone and everyone, and it's free. Dance joins us and pushes us to go further and that is why it's at the center of ONE BILLION RISING.
Before cancer, I was obviously disconnected. I had a tumor the size of a mango inside me and didn't do anything about it. It wasn't like I didn't know something was wrong.
It's a weird thing about the truth: It protects you. What really makes you vulnerable is when you're lying because you're going to get caught. When you tell the truth, there's a strange relief that comes.
Well, the tyranny of masculinity and the tyranny of patriarchy I think has been much more deadly to men than it has to women. It hasn’t killed our hearts. It’s killed men’s hearts. It’s silenced them, it’s cut them off.
Why are women immobile? Because so many feel like they’re waiting for someone to say, "You’re good, you’re pretty, I give you permission."
Security is elusive. It's impossible. We all die. We all get old. We all get sick. People leave us. People change us. Nothing is secure.
Exhaustion pays no mind to age or beauty. Like rain and earthquakes and hail and floods.
I mean you're given all these lessons for the unimportant things--piano-playing, typing. You're given years and years of lessons in how to balance equations, which Lord knows you will never have to do in normal life. But how about parenthood? Or marriage, either, come to think of it. Before you can drive a car you need a state-approved course of instruction, but driving a car is nothing, nothing, compared to living day in and day out with a husband and raising up a new human being.
I know now that we never get over great losses; we absorb them, and they carve us into different, often kinder, creatures.
The reality is that you will grieve forever. You will not "get over" the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole again but you will never be the same. Nor should you be the same nor would you want to.
I turned 54 this year and I find myself feeling like I'm in a bit of a race to get down on paper the way I really feel about life - or the way it has presented to me. And because it has presented to me very beautifully, this is hard. It is technically very hard to show positive manifestations.
It is the sweet, simple things of life which are the real ones after all.
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