Part 12. Loving Cancer

Imagine the one relationship in your life that causes you the most pain or frustration; anger, irritation, or sadness. Who is this person? A coworker? A sibling? A boss? A friend’s partner? A parent? Who is the one who has the ability to change your mood from equanimity to irritation by the mere thought of them? Who is the one who can walk into the room and you feel your guard go up, your mood go down, and you begin to strategize how you want the interaction to go. 

These individuals have a tremendous amount of power over us. As long they have the ability to make us feel anything other than equanimity then they have power. They own a part of us if we give them any thought at all. It’s like we take one end of a rope, give them the other and play tug-of-war. We are tethered together in the struggle for who is right, who hurt whom, who was mean, unfair, gets undeserved attention, etc. Who will win? 

How tired are we willing to get before we drop the rope and say, “What else is possible because this situation isn’t changing and I’m tired of feeling this way?”

Cancer is no different. Those of us who have been diagnosed with cancer have entered into a relationship, one we prefer we didn’t have to have, wish would disappear out of our life, watch as it does things to us we can’t stand, and get tired and frustrated when cancer seems to have an endless supply of energy on its end of the rope. In our society we fight it. We keep pulling on that rope hoping our stamina and medical advances outlast our foe. Cancer pulls back pretty hard. All the terminology around cancer speaks to this being the accepted way of being in relationship with it. We fight because the only other option appears to be death…two options - fight or die. For me, when Carissa Schumacher urged me to “find a way to love cancer,” (see previous post) a third option was revealed and has been the source of my tranquility throughout the vast terrain this odyssey has presented.

So, what does loving cancer look like? It has been an ever evolving process towards deepening levels of love. In the beginning it was easiest for me to love cancer for the gifts it gave me…most of which I have mentioned in previous posts.

•     A deeper connection with Wes, as well as family and friends.
•     A vehicle for healing long held traumas, beliefs, and ways of looking at the world that no longer serve me.
•     The willingness to live fearlessly!
•     A preciousness for being alive, appreciation for what’s really important in life, gratitude for the little things like walking and driving.
•     A change in perspective so that any circumstance in which I find myself, I choose to say, “Where is the opportunity for love to reveal itself?” As an example, last year when my hair started falling out due to the chemo, I could have felt victimized, "Look what chemo is doing to me?" Instead, one of my fondest memories was the love fest I had with my closest friends as we held a Bald is Beautiful Party. Mike and Catherine (who deserve a blog post of their own) along with Wes agreed to shave their heads in support of me. My friend Jami is a hair stylist and did the honors. Leanne and Gigi lent their moral support and filled in as assistant stylist and photographer. Music, laughter, joy, and love all filled the room as the hair fell to the floor.  

Sometime in the last few months I sensed there was more. I began to realize the inadequacy of this kind of love - the kind where I’m grateful for the gifts cancer provided, but could easily do without the giver. It’s conditional. When I was young I was an achiever who caused very little, if any, anguish for my parents. That was the objective. The gifts I provided by my “achieving” got me love, or at least, made my parents happy. But I never tested the waters to see if I, the giver, could be loved unconditionally, without the “achieving.” I didn’t like how that kind of love felt so why would I be content with loving cancer in the exact same way. Could I love cancer unconditionally, no matter what it might do to me? And why would I?

I began to see the cancer cells in the same way I do my kids. No matter what my kids do I will always love them. I may not like what they do, but I will always love them; they are a part of me. To love cancer, everyone of those pesky cells, is to also love every part of me. If I can’t love all of me then how do I expect someone else to love me. If I can love cancer, something that might be the cause of my death, then there is no thing in this world that is beyond my love. And, when you love cancer, it no longer has any power over you! I am untethered. It cannot hurt me because the one thing this odyssey has given me is a very deep knowing of the eternal nature of my being. That is what loving cancer unconditionally has given me - freedom and a life worth living.

I go forth in this odyssey with a very powerful will to live; I have big things I still want to do but I no longer fight cancer in the process of doing those things. I dropped the rope of the tug-of-war I was playing and in doing so, I’ve had a chance to see what else is possible. I see myself as healthy (with some unruly cells playing around in there), I live everyday from a place of love, make choices in my care as to what is in the highest good for my body; not from the space of fear, and the outcome of all that will be known…later. All we only really have is now and my every moment is an incredibly precious moment.

Bald is Beautiful

Part 11. For a Higher Purpose

In a previous post I had mentioned that there were two people who I credit with saving my life. I wrote about Matt Kahn earlier. It seemed time to share the other, Carissa Schumacher. If Matt planted the seed that allowed my will to blossom and choose life, Carissa was the one who showed me the path through the forest; a forest that had seemed so dark and dense as to be void of paths.

Carissa is a psychic; probably the most eerily accurate psychic I have ever witnessed including those that make their living writing books and frequenting talk shows. Carissa chose another route. She works with those individuals who happen to find her; she doesn’t even have a website. (I have an email address for those interested.) There were a number of helpful topics we discussed, but there were two that seemed appropriate to share in a blog post. These two concepts have helped me, informed my way of life, changed me irrevocably. 

In our society we spend so much time fighting cancer, battling cancer, hoping whatever course of action we choose will get rid of the cancer. We worry, we fret, we are sad, angry and impatient to have it out of our bodies. The one thing that we don’t do; the one thing that is rarely asked is, “How might cancer be serving my highest good?” Sure we all want to heal from cancer, but do we ever consider how we might heal because of it? The two concepts Carissa shared and the subsequent work I did with those concepts made me realize that regardless of whether I healed physically from cancer, it was the vehicle by which I was able to do the real healing; the kind that transcends time and allows for more love, compassion, and connection to exist in my being. Ultimately, this kind of healing is the fertile soil that allows and supports the physical healing. 

The first concept had to do with "Life Purpose". Carissa’s innate knowledge of what she saw as my purpose for incarnating on this Earth, in this body, facilitated the shift in perspective on my relationship with cancer and fueled my desire to live. She said, “You came down here and incarnated in this body to once and for all heal cancer on behalf of your ancestors.” I knew what she was talking about. On my mother’s side of the family, going back four generations there are only seven females. I’m betting my Italian Catholic Great Grandmother had siblings but I know nothing of them so technically there may be more. Of these seven females, I was diagnosed with breast cancer; my mother is six years free of ovarian cancer; my grandmother died of lung cancer; my grandmother’s sister, throat cancer; and her other sister, colon cancer. I do not know the cause of death of my grandmother’s remaining sister nor my great grandmother. Intuitively, I knew that Carissa was referring to the underlying emotional and energetic patterns that have been passed down from generation to generation. In my business as a life coach and EFT practitioner, Epigenetics, the study of external or environmental factors' influence on genes, is a big deal. In our business, it is common to see how resolving emotional issues heals illness and disease.

The females on my mother’s side of the family are extraordinarily strong, self-sufficient, resilient women who chose to repress their voices for the sake of peace in their world. They gave away their power in an effort to be accepted, to be loved. It was safe; it kept them secure but at what cost? Where does all that anger go? I have such respect and compassion for their journeys and some day I look forward to sharing my grandmother's story of immigrating to the U.S. as an indentured servant from Italy.

As I settled into the idea that I was here to heal on behalf of my ancestors, I began to see having cancer as a calling, that there was some purpose to it, and I wasn’t just some random recipient of a bum deal. For me, cancer broke open my heart, crumbled my defenses, my walls, my constructs; all of which kept me safe, but also kept me separate and alone. In the ensuing year after my call with Carissa, I left my safe, little, invisible “island”. I blew it up actually, paddled to the mainland where all my relationships were and participated more fully in them...the good, the bad, the ugly. I healed the remaining parts of me that felt small and scared, and began to embody a quiet, peaceful confidence. For the first time in my life I became completely comfortable in my own skin. I found my voice and my power; a power that quietly sits inside. It doesn't need to make itself known in some big flashy way. It comes out to play as love and as a space holder for others to be able to find their voice, their power and to allow them to know they are loved and accepted exactly as they are in this moment.

 “I’m ok. I have always been ok. I always will be ok,” I wrote one day after a meditation. I knew this transcended death. I had healed what needed to be healed on behalf of my family. When I close my eyes I see a half dozen women, my ancestors, standing in a semicircle smiling at me full of love and peace. Their smile says, “Yes you did. You healed on behalf of us all.”

Cancer gave me that. I'm incredibly lucky to be able to feel that, to feel whole; to feel so much love in my heart, so much peace in my being, so much gratitude for all that I encounter. Can I regret having cancer? No, not at all.

Carissa’s other suggestion had me take a deep breath, exhale, inhale and say, “O.K…wow. How do I do that?” She had said (paraphrasing) to me, “ Renee, you need to find a way to love the cancer. I know in our society that goes against everything that is said, taught, and stressed about cancer but your path is through loving it, not fighting it. By doing that you begin to change the consciousness around cancer. That is another part of your life purpose.”

After we hung up the phone I let that seep into me. “What does loving cancer look like and why would I want to love cancer when everything in me wants it OUT!?”

To be continued...