This
week I have a special gratefulness: I’ve outlived my cancer diagnosis for 19
years! Being able to say that, I feel a sense of triumph and jubilation inside
of me. I have beaten the enemy! Conquered the odds! Annihilated evil cells with
their claw-like appendages that tried to infiltrate the very tissues of my
heart and lungs! I’m alive, healthy, and well, so take that, you evil blight!
Okay,
so now that I’ve admitted feeling like I’m some sort of winner in a dreadful war
which really has no ‘sides’, against a tricky disease for which there is no
proven cure, the truth: what helped me live with, and I believe, outlive, my
cancer diagnosis was, well….LOVE. Yes, love. Not images of “winning the war
against cancer” as mass media hype would have us rally ‘round, not the power we
think hatred and resentment has over a condition we did not ask for, nor
activating anger-energy to “survive”; no, truthfully, it really was Love.
The
irascible Dr. Phil of TV show fame says there are “ten defining moments” in our living history that enter
our consciousness with such power that they transform and lead us to become the
core of who we are. Positive or negative, they help us to uncover our authentic
selves. Although I personally find his bravado persona and Hollywood tactics
highly annoying, I must admit there is merit to this concept. Indeed, one of my
own ‘defining moments’ arose during the tentative time of undergoing cancer treatments,
and led to a personal antidote for dealing with the unfairness, the angst, and
the unpredictability of living life - with or without the frightening disease
we call Cancer.
Since
my surgery for Non-Hodgkin’s Lymphoma was considered “unsuccessful” (i.e, there
was too much tumor in fragile places to “get it all out”), chemotherapy and
radiation were next in line (ugh!). I decided to employ Guided Imagery, and
being the curious fact-finding maven that I am, read the literature-both lay
and scientific. It appeared the most successful images were fighting soldiers
or sharks killing off the evil cancer enemy, but I cringed every time I tried
to do it. 
At
the time I didn’t think to dredge up the great east Indian or Hindu deities with
their legendary wrath and power against evil (they have many): Shiva The Destroyer; Durga, Slayer of Demons; or Kali, the omnipotent, dark-side representation of Shakti,
the Supreme Destroyer of Evil! But even with my connection to yoga philosophy
and practice, I don’t think Kali’s garland of skulls or Shakti’s ten mighty
arms full of lethal weapons would’ve worked for me.
So,
what was the “defining moment” that spun me around? It was the question:
“How
can I hate a part of myself?”
Like
it or not, the cancer cells that were rapidly proliferating inside my mediastinum and poaching the territory of my pericardium, invading my lymph,
and diminishing my ability to breathe, were a part of my body, originating from my
own cells, and I couldn’t bring myself to hate or kill my self. The defining moment was the recognition that
I loved my self. Just as I was, and that meant cancer and all. I was more akin to the Japanese Goddess of Mercy and Compassion, Kannon, not a wrathful avenger who could kill something perceived as ‘the enemy’!
So
what did I do?
I
began to wonder, since this cancer is a part of me, what if I could view it
without fear?
What
if I asked it what it wants, and what the heck it’s doing here in my body? What
does it need?? Since at the time I was too fatigued to do much other than lay
around and do yoga in my mind anyways, I meditated on this for a while. I
decided to let my own spontaneous imagery arise and do what needed to be done.
