Good morning. My name is Jackie Schwartz. (I’m wearing a purple pants suit.) Many of you may know me as the woman in the blue mask. (I don the mask.) I wear this because my immune system is compromised and I need to protect myself from germs. You may have seen me wearing it in the sanctuary or sitting on the couch in Forbes Hall. I sit because I cannot stand too long. I welcome you to join me.

(I remove the mask.) This morning I want you to see another side of me. (I don a red hat and red boa.) The basis for this attire comes from the poem written by Jenny Joseph. I’ll read a few lines:

“When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple / With a red hat which doesn’t go and doesn’t suit me. / I shall eat more ice cream, and go barefoot in the grass. / I shall wear my purple bathing suit as I run through the sprinklers.” You get the idea.

One of the most liberating aspects of having cancer is that I feel free to do what pleases me. Instead of conforming to all that is traditional and expected, I can act in my own behalf.

Couple that with the reality of being an Old Woman, and I am doubly blessed. I actively seek out those people and activities that give me joy and pleasure and avoid those people and activities that are negative. I’m recapturing the freedom of youth.

Too many years I lived the life of what was expected. You don’t need to wait until you are hit with a catastrophic disease or until you age the right amount, and you don’t need anyone’s permission. Act to be in touch with your own sense of play and joy in the world, finding beauty everywhere. It’s a big payoff.

There’s another reason I believe I’m doing so incredibly well. I’m engaged with life-sustaining activities that benefit me and others. I am the leader of the Los Angeles Multiple Myeloma Support Group. It gives me great satisfaction, and I know I am of help to the dynamic group I lead. I have learned a great deal from them.

Living with cancer, and watching time growing shorter, I know my time on earth is brief. When I was diagnosed with multiple myeloma in 2001, I was told I had three to four years to live.

Instead of responding to that as a death sentence, I choose to be as well informed and proactive a patient as I can be. I take big risks, try new treatments. Most of the time, that approach pays off. If I had stuck to the standard source of treatment, I’d probably be dead by now.

Before I knew I would have positive results with a new treatment, I booked a trip to Eastern Europe this summer, visiting Budapest and Prague. It looks like I’m going to be in good shape to take that trip. Reach out for those people and activities who that mean so much in your life.

The true joy of life is in the journey. As Rumi, the Persian Sufi poet, said, “Live like your hair is on fire.”