HEALING REDEFINED
Healing is something the body does when we align with the holy work of transformation in our lives.
_____________________
I can’t tell you how I arrived at this. But it seemed as native to me as blonde hair and brown eyes. This knowing. That going to war with one’s own body is a terrible idea.
It’s not to say that working toward a different outcome that seems inevitable on the surface of it, isn’t a good idea. Because it is. But as with any negotiation, the best approach includes both a little finesse, mixed with grace in large supply:
Have you ever tried yelling out your need until your voice felt raw?
Haven’t we all. How did it work for you? Did you receive the outcome you desired?
I believe the best way to say a hard thing is with a soft voice.
To my cancer journey, this approach also applies.
We are handcrafted in the hard moment, not the easy or benign. What we go through isn’t isolated to an instant, but chiseled like artistry into the breadth and depth of eternal time.
My. Response. Changes. Everything.
I refuse to go to war with my own being. So let it be said that I am not a ‘cancer warrior,’ but ‘cancer thriver’ instead.
This week marks the passing of four years, a culmination of singular experiences sprinkled through my days, sometimes like powdered sugar, sometimes like rain.
There are the moments of remembering that catch me off guard—the visions of white sheets and skimpy paper-thin gowns that pop up between playing with Archie and barbequing with friends.
There is no earthly way that I have found to tease out the good from hard.
In fact, the hard flavors the good, making life tastier somehow. The things I have grown accustomed to—sharp needles, lab results, MRI machines, stripping bare in dingy rooms in need of my design skills—have tempered and emboldened me. And I have become the living breathing version of life’s surprising contrasts.
This week, after three months of diagnostic silence, my lab reports came. My integrative cancer physician [who is also my dear friend] delivered the news, a conversation infused with a level of candor that our personal relationship permits. To bring you into the intimacy of the moment, let me share precisely what she said—
I am proud of you. Proud of your hard work that has gotten you to this point.
Most patients with your level of disease either never arrive at this point or are in a much different and more difficult situation than the one you find yourself in today.
Although she meant her words to be encouraging, I admit I was rocked by the second half of what she said. Even after four years, hearing the gravity of my situation is something I’ll never get used to. Not because I’m afraid. But because I feel so remarkably good.
This is the point in my story where you may assume this means I am cancer free. I am decidedly not.
Our westernized version of my current reality has lulled us into believing that healing is wrapped up in tidy cellophane packages of “either” and “or,” when the reality of life is nearly always somewhere in between.
I am proof that it’s possible to live with Stage IV cancer. In fact, my recent lab reports prove that am thriving with this onboard disease.
This is the story I want to tell…over, and over, and over again.
But here is something you need to know, or at least something I need to confess—
This truth is never far from my thoughts. And I think, in so many ways, that’s a really good thing.
What challenge in your life keeps you close to the Living Lord?
This is the part in my story when I am going to tell you that it’s imperative you read the NOTES. Because what comes next is the outpouring of everything gone through: Precisely what life purpose is.
Most of us believe that only when we are “expert” at something do we have the right to share. The truth is, when we witness the raw humanity of another's struggle, we let go of the burden of perfection we place upon ourselves.
Nothing is as easy as it seems.
Most of what we witness and what we share is the triumph waiting on the other side of what we bear. We misunderstand that, to inspire, it must be beautiful. In fact, some of life's most compelling moments are a mess.
Sometimes, what we endure in private becomes more bearable when it’s shared.
Sometimes, only in the sharing is the purpose of our suffering revealed.
Sometimes, the purpose was intended for the benefit of someone other than ourselves.
Chances are, like me, you have come into a life purpose derived from a circumstance you didn’t foresee or expect.
Perhaps you weren’t even emotionally prepared or professionally equipped for it at the time.
But then something within you shifted. And you began to evolve into someone who has an important story to tell.
For the benefit of others. At the heart of it, isn’t this what “purpose” really means?
What a travesty to ignore the hard moment.
To rush past out of disdain, disappointment, or fear.
The hard moment teaches us everything about who we are. It whispers why we’re here.
Slow to hear it. Settle in to listen to what it has to share. Steady yourself. You can do this. For the sake of others. For the sake of yourself.
NOTES:
Beauty in the Hard Moment. This, more than all other themes throughout this Journal, is the one you [my readers] have shared speaks to you above all others.
When I launched this blog five years ago, I could never have imagined that my own “Beauty in the Hard Moment” would be a cancer diagnosis or that my intimate journey with this disease would become a central focus of my writing. The response to my entries on related topics—
Beauty in the Hard Moment
Integrative Cancer Therapies
The Metabolic Approach to Healing
Redefining Healing
Embracing Cancer—
has been overwhelming. So much so that I have been invited to author a comprehensive Case Study of my journey, partnering with my Integrative Cancer Physician, Dr. Marcela Dominguez, and her oncologist colleagues who are experts in the field. This Case Study will be published in reputable medical journals and appropriate excerpts will also be featured in Women’s Health magazines…all with the overarching intention of—
Eliminating fear surrounding a cancer diagnosis,
Empowering patients to believe they have the power within to leverage knowledge and resources to change the trajectory of their disease,
Inspiring all of us to redefine what Healing is,
Equipping others to live a lifestyle that Heals, body/mind/spirit.
This Case Study will not only include my experience with both traditional and integrative therapies that have led me to healing, but also the intuitive and spiritual aspects of my journey that have contributed to living a full and hopeful life in concert with managing my disease.
Authoring this Case Study is an enormous undertaking, one that will require extensive research, interviews with experts in the field, mapping my own comprehensive health journey, and demystifying lesser-known integrative approaches and alternative treatment modalities.
As I write the Case Study, I intend to share all the intimate details with you along the way including—
What I am learning,
How I am feeling,
What I am struggling with,
Who I am speaking to,
And so much more.
Over the five years I have written this Journal I have never asked my readers to sponsor this endeavor. I am asking now.
In a separate letter that will come to your email, I will be detailing the opportunity for you to financially assist me in making this remarkable Case Study a reality.
If you are interested in a private one-on-one conversation to learn about the nuances of this endeavor, please reach out to me to discuss a time when we can talk.
I would love nothing more.
ABOUT THE IMAGE: This is me with my new best buddy Brenn [meaning “Little Prince” in Gaelic]. When Poet left us well over a year ago, my lab reports weren’t great. For the sake of the puppy, I knew I had to wait. But then hope came, embodied in a little Wolfhound who is more cuddly than you can ever imagine. He is a gift. A perfect one, in fact. And he makes the best little editor, laying by my feet.