Munira Premji

Lately, I’ve been carrying something heavy. Several people I care deeply about in the myeloma and cancer community have experienced significant setbacks in their health.

Over the years, these relationships have become much more than shared diagnoses and treatment plans. We’ve celebrated good news together. We’ve worried together.

We’ve learned a new language together: treatments, scans, blood work, remission, progression, and the endless waiting that seems to accompany this disease. And when someone I care about receives difficult news, I feel it.

But I’ve also noticed something else. Their stories sometimes awaken my own fears.

Could that happen to me? What if that’s my future? It’s not an easy thing to admit. But I suspect I’m not alone.

I think many of us do this, whether we’re living with illness or simply navigating the uncertainty that comes with being human.

We borrow tomorrow’s worries and carry them into today.

Recently, I came across a simple piece of wisdom: When the road ahead is hidden by fog, don’t focus on the entire journey. Focus on the next step.

That thought has stayed with me.
Because the truth is that I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. None of us does.

What I do know is this: I don’t want tomorrow’s possibilities to steal today’s peace.

I don’t want fear to distract me from the life that is unfolding right now.

I don’t want to miss today’s blessings because I’m preoccupied with problems that haven’t arrived.

So these days, I’m asking myself a different question: What is still in my hands? My faith. My choices. My relationships. How I care for my health. How I show up for the people I love. How much joy I allow myself to experience.

There is so much I cannot control. But I can choose to be fully present in this day.

And perhaps that’s what resilience really is. Not predicting the future. Not pretending we aren’t afraid. But refusing to let fear rob us of the gift of today. I have spent too many years being grateful for today to let fear of tomorrow take today away from me.

Tomorrow will arrive in its own time. When it does, I’ll meet it then. But today? Today, I intend to live.