Suleika Jaouad’s first book, Between Two Kingdoms: A Memoir of a Life Interrupted, sat on the pile of “To Be Read” volumes by the side of my bed for quite some time before I picked it up to read this past week. I’d hesitated to start this, turning instead all too often to the great escape from reality found in fiction. But it was time to get better acquainted with this woman who had become a beloved companion through her weekly Isolation Journal posts that sustained so many of us through the pandemic (and still today).
Part of my hesitation stemmed from my familiarity with her story. As a young woman just finishing college, Suleika was diagnosed with a stubborn leukemia, and this book details much of her treatment and recovery. I knew she survived this first cancer, but I also knew that since the publishing of this book, the cancer had returned, as she sometimes noted in her social media posts. Our current times are overwhelming to me, and I wasn’t sure I could spend hours with such a sad story. I remember the death of a classmate from this terrible disease when I was in the second grade. Could I stay connected through Suleika’s tortuous journey?
As it ends up, yes, I could! While doom and gloom raised their ugly heads from time to time, the book is a true joy. The greatest gift of the book for me is that, despite the power of tragedy to knock us down, we can find our own path into the forest, even if our footsteps don’t lead to fame and glory on the other side of the darkness, even if the darkness doesn’t have a guaranteed ending. Her words ring true: “You can’t guarantee that people won’t hurt or betray you – they will, be it a breakup or something as big and blinding as death. But evading heartbreak is how we miss our people, our purpose.” Her pact with herself gives us courage: “May I be awake enough to notice when love appears and bold enough to pursue it without knowing where it will lead.”
Most of us won’t chronicle our struggle with cancer on the pages of the New York Times as Suleika did, take a hundred-day solo road trip at the end of treatment to meet people who connected with us on-line, or end up marrying a famous musician (Jon Batiste). But we can make our own choices that honor other people, lead to healing, and have the level of adventure that fits with our personalities. And now, she’s published “The Book of Alchemy” and has just completed a book tour that features marvelous colors, the voices that speak from her book, and duets with Suleika (double bass) and Jon (piano). Glorious!
In 2022, when she found out she needed to resume chemotherapy, she wrote: “I can’t anchor my sense of well-being in some future unknown, be it a miracle or something else. I need to stay within what I can control, which is how I feel right now and how I live my life right now. And my life right now is good. It’s good despite illness. It’s maybe even good because of it—because of how it has clarified what I value and rerouted my priorities.” She continued: “I think that’s my definition of resilience: to accept what’s happening moment to moment, and to allow for necessary adjustments, to pivot, to find relief, to cultivate small joys . . .”
Ah, Suleika. Once again, even in the shadow of death, you remind me of how to live, and how to write. If we ever meet, I think we will be friends. You understand what Annie Dillard had to say in The Writing Life: "One of the things I know about writing is this: spend it all, shoot it, play it, lose it, all, right away, every time. Do not hoard what seems good for a later place in the book or for another book; give it, give it all, give it now. The impulse to save something good for a better place later is the signal to spend it now. Something more will arise for later, something better.” I’m so glad you decided to spend it all on the pages of Between Two Kingdoms and The Book of Alchemy.
Whether on the pages of our journal, at the computer keyboard, or even on various colored Post-it notes, the writing draws us together (and I’m really impressed with your choice of husbands – smile emoji). As you told CBS Morning, [Writing in my journal is] where I go to show up for myself, to take a breath in this chaotic world and to write my way back to myself.”
As Anaia Nin understands, “Writing is not, for us, an art, but breathing.” Thanks for reminding me of so much this week, both on the pages of your book and on the breath of your life.