Sunday, December 7, 2008
I want to create an altar outside in the yard. An altar of thanksgiving. And the sign.
Went back 10 days later to explore treatment options. Of course it's chemo/rad vs. a suicide in their minds. I wrestled so hard with all of that and finally opted for a combination of faith and my organic methods. They were surprised that I was 'doing as well as I was' two years after dx. It's been a very tough decision, but conv. treatment... well, I'm tired of talking about it. It's horrendous and would probably involve things like bankruptcy and dentures and being really really sick for quite a while.
Massive interpersonal relationship issues on top of that. Ah, life. I've been in a state of shock. Just coming out. See previous post.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
It’s so not about who you vote for. It’s not about your retirement account or where you live. How do you love and who waits for you so patiently and quietly that you so seldom realize His presence? There is no time. There is all the time. And now is the only now we have.
The candle does not gutter low, neither is it as tall as it once was. It is the only candle we have. This day begins like others have and will and there are things that must be attended to.
Pass by the people on the street, the ones on bikes, the youth, those who strive to win and change the world. The world will not be changed. It is. Life is not. There are greater things.
Sometimes I wish the Cancer would make up its mind to either kill me or leave me alone. I grow tired of living in between. I am grateful that I am healthy now, though tired at times but one wonders every day if this is the day or tomorrow is the day or next Spring or late February or just exactly fucking when.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Damp sea air, long beach predawn
The smell of god, waves crashing unseen, unheard, somewhere relentlessly.
People drive too fast to acknowledge let alone offer love to the pines and eucalyptus trees in the median.
Just another 'thing' at 40 mph, like another car or a stop sign.
I walk through the median among the traffic and touch each one and tell them I love them.
And I will soon be in a cab, then a busy airport, then a plane, then an airport, then a cab again.
I am my lesson, this body, this mind, this open hearted connectedness.
And so I stop to listen and notice, for me and for all of us, just for this moment.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
I’m not a story teller, but a story needed to be told about what has been happening in our town for the past year. It sort of starts with the death of a man that none of us knew and works backwards.
First, I should tell you a little about our town, Perula. It is a fishing village on the Pacific coast, about 95 Kilometers south of Puerto Vallarta. We get a few tourists and there are some hotels here. Most of the tourists are people from Guadalajara. The plaza needs paint and I’d gladly donate enough to paint the gazebo and the curb around it, but no one wants to paint it. There are a couple of lunch counters. We even have a disco. Occasionally, we get a gringo tourist or two, but they don’t stay long and hardly any come back. We don’t have what they want, I guess. I’ve told people that we ought to figure out what they want so they come and spend their money here. Everyone gets on the band wagon for awhile, but then life catches up to us and we turn our attention back to other things. We’re all busy trying to make ends meet and survive. There doesn’t seem to be time to do anything extra and we don’t really like the gringos anyway, we just want their money.
Well, we had a gringo tourist here, but he was more than a tourist. He stayed for almost a year. He never actually left, if you want the truth. He’s buried over by the churchyard. He can’t be in the churchyard, because he committed suicide. Took a bunch of pills. It goes against God to kill yourself, everyone knows that, but he was in a lot of pain and was going to die anyway. He had the cancer and no one to take care of him, except Bebe, the widow he rented a room from.
So anyway, the Gringo showed up in January, after Christmas in a pickup. It was a big pickup, pretty nice, but older a diesel. I bought it from him a month ago. I got a great deal on it. He said he didn’t care about the import penalty. Now I know why. He was skinny by then and his face was swollen and he looked tired and drawn. I guess it was the cancer.
When he showed up after a few days, he took a room with Bebe, the widow over by the beach. She has a little run down building in the back yard away from the chickens. It has a little bathroom, I guess and an outdoor kitchen under the trees. I’d see him walking around town, trying the little restaurants that don’t serve any gringo food. Maria over at the economico said he brought his own coffee with him and a little plastic cone and would order just boiling hot water and a glass of milk. He made his own coffee at the table, called it café tipo gringo. Gringo style. He ate good at first, whatever she put in front of him, didn’t complain, was very polite and friendly. He seemed happy when I saw him around. He even came in here once and bought a little plane. He said he wanted to fix a couple of doors over at Bebe’s for her. Imagine paying rent and fixing things for free.
He didn’t know anyone here, didn’t come with anyone and he didn’t try to interfere in anyone’s lives. Patricio, the schoolmaster said that he showed up over at the school with boxes of supplies. He banged on the gate with a rock until one of the teachers came out and asked what he wanted. His Spanish was not very good back then, but it got better. Even at the end he didn’t seem to understand a lot of what he was told.
Every few nights he’d show up over at the hotel and have a pina colada. He sat on the patio and watched the sun go down into the Pacific. It’s a pretty nice little hotel, mostly empty except for Santa Semana, and Christmas. Juan Flores is the waiter. They sort of became friends. I guess that’s how he found out about people and their troubles. That little Guttierez boy with the harelip and Angelica Luna, the seamstress.
Carlos Guttierez’s boy is smart as a whip and pretty good looking, but his lip had that big split in it and he didn’t talk right. Never would have found a woman and the doctor wanted more money to fix it than even I could afford. One day the doctor came to me and said, “You tell Carlos Guttierez that someone paid to have his boy’s lip fixed and I want to do it next Tuesday.” That doctor thinks he’s a big man driving around in his shiny new Nissan. He could’ve just told Carlos himself but he didn’t want to drive down to Barrio Santa Cruz and get his car dirty, I guess. He did a good job, the boys lip looks good and he’s smiling. You can tell he’s happy with it, always looking in the shop windows at himself. He’ll probably be full of himself with the girls in a few years.
Nobody figured out who paid it. Padre said it wasn’t the church. It was funny because the church seemed to have some extra money there for awhile. The sacristy got painted and Padre had the roof patched so the water didn’t drip in when it rained. Sanchez’s fixed his car too. Got it running again. It needed a starter motor. Padre said that a bunch of money had turned up three different times with a note that just said, “A gift for the church”.
The gringo liked to fish. He bought a little aluminum boat with a motor and would take off early in the morning just before dawn. Sometimes he’d take one of the kids hanging around at the marina and they’d go out for hours and come back with some yellow fin tuna. He’d either let the kid take it home or give it to a woman in Barrio Angel where the poor people live in metal shacks. The woman has two little girls and no husband. The no good bastard just left her one day. It was probably a good thing because he was always drunk and I think he beat her, but I know the mother hardly eats anything because she saves whatever there is for her girls.
Thursday, July 31, 2008
Like a flame inside us it withers and flickers with the winds wrought by negativity, but
Burns brighter and stronger with every thought that is sponsored by love.
There is a cumulative effect. There is only love and the call for love, which can look like fear, anger or sadness. Events and interactions that seem negative cannot impact a fire fueled by weeks and months and years of lovingness. Taking in negativity on a regular basis turns a bright burning flame into a smoky smoldering, barely lighted wick. You see it everyday in people whose lives are filled with sadness. Much of this is self-induced. People have forgotten how to love, are afraid to laugh or be happy, anticipating the next awful event in their lives.
People sometimes go crazy and do horrible things to others. We read it in the news or see it on TV because negativity makes news that many apparently think they need. If you know of something dark and ugly, just don’t pass it on. If it happened a few hundred miles away or more, there is no reason to propagate the negativity by mentioning it.
When someone around you is being negative and you find it impacting you, take a walk, go outside and away from the negativity especially consume/inhale/inspire things that are godly, Christ like, fuel for the flame, a cloud, a bird, a tree, the freshness of the wind on your face.
That's for you people to deal with.
Those of us who will be ascending soon have other concerns.
Things like preparing for rapture
doing self pity
Filing for disability and other forms of self indulgent behavior.
Good luck down there in dirt world.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
Saturday, July 5, 2008
Maybe I'm not feeling well because I didn't rest and didn't take all my vitamins and stuff. I don't know. I'm going to do that now and go back to sleeeeep. I've been 'a bit under the weather' now for a week or more. Just more tired, slightly sick feeling, neck is 'active'. I love this place, love this earth, Tina, my birds, an opportunity to go out and feel the wind and relearn sailing. Sad to think it's possible that my time is limited. Very sad. You know?
I feel like I need to get Tina up to speed on all the work, that she may again need to be doing more of the actual hands on. I staple and file and type through the tears. Fix one thing at a time. Stop to have my feelings, then continue. Maybe I'm wallowing. I know I'm loved. That's not the problem. I am blessed with lots of love. More than most and more than I sometimes know what to do with. Guess, what people? I love you too.
I have to watch my energy. very smoky today. This is my work. It's important, this blog. I have to (and have been) devoting the time to it. Keep it up, my friend, keep it up.
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Sometimes I want to dwell on the Cancer (there, I said the word), think about it; try to foresee the potential unraveling of my life force. I think it’s a control issue. I want to be in control and ‘ready’ for whatever may come. All of that stuff about ‘how would I deal with it if it looked like this or that?’ Hell, I’ve beaten the odds so far, probably by 6 or 8 months. For how much longer? Maybe till I’m 80?
Other times I want to ignore it and just go about my life. Somewhere in between denial and not lending it any credibility.
I know that I can make it better by taking extreme care of myself. Sometimes I feel like it doesn’t leave a lot of energy left to support anyone else or to have much left over to give to the world. I need to be able to pretty much do exactly what I want exactly when I want to do it. Whether that’s running wheelbarrows full of dirt from here to there in the garden, taking a nap or doing some emotional ‘homework’.
I’m working on feeling like I’m worth the time and energy to take care of myself.
Sometimes I’m just tired of the whole thing, the work and the struggle and the emotions and I think how easy it would be to just let it come and take me away, rather than do all the work. I’m aware that all I have to do is ‘allow’ it in. I work on that one often enough that it’s for real. I can’t beat this through ‘will power’. I can only beat it through self love, which is also that crap about climbing down into the ‘dark night of the soul’ shit and uncovering all that is ‘not love’ and exposing it to the light of day, even if that makes me sad, or cry or whateverthefuck.
I like the fact that I'm living sort of alone and I can just BE who I want to be in the moment without having to consider somebody else’s needs.
“These days I'm learning that it's also a privilege to sit with someone in life. Really sit. Really be. In life, in breath. I know that you know what I'm talking about here.”
I totally grok this. I’m learning also to accept and be totally aware of and in myself. It brings up the ‘not love’.
We all have our dharma, our soul’s work to do and mine is no more important or particularly harder than anyone else’s. I can think of a LOT of life situations I wouldn’t trade including mindlessness, lack of awareness like those who can sit in front of the TV and cover up their pain with cheap beer (or expensive single malt scotch), not to mention being in Ethiopia and suffering on so many levels. I GLADLY ACCEPT THE CANCER DIAGNOSIS AS MY EMOTIONAL WORK! I also know how it has driven me (and is driving me) to do my soul’s work and for that I am grateful.
We’re all exactly where we’re supposed to be doing exactly what we’re supposed to be doing.
Monday, June 30, 2008
1. Bad things are happening and worse things are threatened.
2. you are powerless to do anything about it
3. There is no end, no time limit, no 'only two more days or years' and it'll be over.
The difference between a nightmare and a bad dream is if you change any one of these. So there will never be a time when I am 'cured'. I'll always be under the threat of anything can happen at any time. There's no denying that number 1 is true. There's not much 'bad' happening at the moment other than relatively subtle daily warnings of tenderness, fatigue and some swelling. The symptoms kinda feel like a 'tease' ongoing, always there. So number 2. I'm not powerless if I choose not to be. Let's turn this from a nightmare into a bad dream. Problem is that I don't want to be strong EVERY Flickin' day! It's tiring, its boring and its not real.
Nietzsche said "When things are really bad, being sane is an insane response".
So back to the beginning. I feel like I need to beat this because everyone wants and expects me to. That's a heavy burden in itself. Here's the list:
"Take your pills every day"
"Only eat healthy"
"Exercise a lot"
"Do your spiritual work" Hey, If I die, I wasn't spiritual enough. Now there's a big responsibility.
"Do your emotional work" Hey, if I die, I wasn't emotionally mature enough (to suit everyone else.)
I might die. If you have a problem with it, "YOU TRY PULLING THIS OFF!!!"
Saturday, June 28, 2008
Saturday, June 21, 2008
Then I walk to town.
Sleeping part of yesterday away, burned I guess from several weeks of being very responsible,
I dream healing, get-back-into-my-body dreams.
Walking to town through the long rays of spring morning light, chilly pure air,
I remember having walked this road, in this light, at this hour and this time of year and then...
I am twenty.
I know this magic, tears start, the sudden knowing.
A rusty chair in the garden, facing renewal, the sunrise.
It is magic. The nettles spring up an inch a day through weathered cedar boards.
Birdsong. Millions of years of evolution and they honor each spring with iridescent, glowing vitality.
Every growing thing celebrates, Audaciously!
Black, barren soil collects the warmth to incite crocus and daffodil to herald the four-and-a-half billionth coming of Christ or Vishnu or Matakwease or Celtic goddess or just Spring.
Faded seed packets mark early greens in my garden planted before the last frost
Snow dripping, water gathering, moving down crystal.
Branches trailing wakes in a powerful icy river, refreshing the sea.
Magic says if you honor more, you get more.
Then, Jake plunges into the river as two small ducks drift by in their search for breakfast.
I yell at him. He says looking at me puzzled,
“I know I could catch them for you, just let me at them. You’d be so proud of me. I know
you’d like to have them”
I laugh out loud. He’s so sincere.
So... you’ve been given the power, honored with it. GO CREATE!
Only humans forget what the rest of the growing things always remember.
Is it my work, to help remind? The highest form of creation for me?
I guess I am a priest, not a warrior or healer or king, and I’m afraid to take the responsibility to always remember. Always. Myself. Now.
Spring-warmed barren hearts, Arise!
Plunge hands, wrist-deep into warmed black soil. Celebrate!
It’s called living in fear and in not enoughness. There isn’t enough love, time or money. If there is, then I will only deserve it if I work really, really hard.
Know that I’m not typing this for you all, I’m writing it for myself. It’s my baggage, but I send it to you because I think you can relate to it.
Fear says, “I can make you safe”. Love says, “You ARE safe”. The soul doesn’t care if you weld the rototiller unless you do it from love and joy, then it would have the equivalent value of spending the same amount of time enJOYing watching the birds at the feeder or laying in the grass looking at the clouds pass over.
Deeksha was good. It’s the same story. Its your intention that you invest in it. If you intend to get something out of it, you will. Will I go again? Well maybe something will settle in that I haven’t felt yet, but otherwise, probably not. There is NO DOUBT that we have to share this JOY and LOVE or it doesn’t do us much good either. I think for me there are other ways I’d like to intend it. I’m having a hard time in group not wanting us to sing (just something goofy like Amazing Grace or Simple Gifts). I’m chicken to bring it up. I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. What a wimp, huh?
I feel compelled to help people more who are diagnosed with cancer. Maybe over at Feather River Hospital. Alternatives, emotions and spirituality. I’ve ordered a few more books on it. It’s almost time for a fast again. I can feel it coming on.
I hope you all don’t mind being a sounding board for my process. You don’t have to reply to it.
I send you buckets and buckets (there is no end to the amount. It just keeps flowing from all directions to all of you. It never ends. There is no limit. The flow is constant. In an hour or a day or a month or a year, you can come to the realization that it is STILL flowing uninterrupted and always will flow) of LOVEJOY!
Friday, June 20, 2008
I am not longing for love (or anything else. I have all the love I can stand), but just being here with an empty heart, devoid of anything but full of light.
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
After her beloved children were taken away from her by lying lawyers and a broken court system and I abandoned the place I loved, lost in another unfair divorce, god threw me and my gal into the ‘people processor’ (again) and turned it on high for awhile. Cancer, hospitals, doctors, medical bills, two totaled vehicles in 72 hours, the worst winter in Albuquerque history. When we climbed out of the whirligig, we were dizzy and disoriented and incredibly thankful to find that we could still walk and talk (well, sort of, since she broke her leg on Halloween and still can't walk). We love each other. We love this place, but she doesn’t even know who she is yet and we aren’t too sure about me neither. :-) And Spirit doesn’t give a shit, but would like us to move forward with our soul’s path, regardless. I guess it never ends as long as we’re walking this earth. Light your feet and light your head and burn your soul’s candle at both ends.
We both know that we have been blessed, though and are thankful for that. Nor
Monday, June 16, 2008
1. Poison? Nah, I'll pass. I saw the Snow White movie a long time ago. Not in to poison. It makes you very sick, you quit breathing, you're weak and gray and throwing up all the time. Maybe you'll survive it and slowly over the course of a year or so get better and be able to play and have fun again. Nope. Don't like poison. What else you got doctor?
Oh I know, I know!
2. A referral to a radiator (one who irradiates your body with other, guess what?, toxic rays!) Yup, now THAT sounds like a great plan. You don't feel anything. It's just a very high dollar big buzzing box. Oh yeah, I did that and after 8 sessions had 2nd degree burns all inside my mouth and throat. Then they were going to put in a stomach tube. I remember the first little Indian woman oncologist with the unpronounceable name (a 'highly regarded oncologist). She stood there crunching a piece of hard candy, spent 5 minutes in the room and billed me for $600. I did the math. There are 12, 5 minute periods in an hour, so 12 x $600/hour is $7200/hour. Pretty good wages! First thing she was going to do was put a feeding tube IN MY BODY because I probably wouldn't be able to eat or swallow after she got done with me. That is FUCKED up, in case you didn't notice. These people are insane.
OK, radiation, fucks up your immune system. Not good when you're trying to fight off cancer, that's for sure. It'll shrink tumors if it's well targeted so I guess if the tumor was choking off your esophagus or something that might make sense for awhile to give you some additional time to cure yourself with HEALTHY things. (did you Oncologists ever consider helping a PATIENT with a DISEASE get HEALTHY instead of sicker? Now there's a novel approach. I'll pass on radiation as well. Remember class, ONCOLOGISTS can't even DO radiation. They have to refer you to some person who can. So even if you WANT radiation, you still have no reason to go to an ONCOLOGIST. And what is an oncologist again? Oh, yeah! A CANCER doctor. We still have not come up with a reason for a CANCER patient to go see a CANCER doctor! How interesting.
Ah, but CANCER doctors still have one final tool up their sleeve! They can REFER you to a SURGEON so you can have the cancer surgically removed. Again, they can't do it themselves but through the power of their almighty prescription pad, they can send you to a surgeon to whack that bad boy out of there. In my case the surgeon (working with the CANCER doctor) decided to whack open my neck and remove every lymph node in there, about 75 of them I'm told. This is called radical neck surgery. They generally cut the carotid artery (they said you have another one and one is probably good enough) in the process and dig around through your neck muscles and basically fuck you up. This MAY leave you with the inability to control the facial muscles on that side AND you may not be able to use your arm very well (That would be my right arm, the one I use all the time). So THAT's fucked up. I said 'No' to that one too.
OK. To recap, an oncologist is a cancer doctor, someone who specializes in the treatment of cancer (which I supposedly have, like in spades). The only thing an oncologist can do is 1. either REFER you to someone else to FUCK you up, OR they can poison you themselves without outside assistance. They don't know anything about how to enhance your immune system or help you look at the emotional underpinnings of cancer or do ANYTHING to help you get healthier. They can't help you with those things.
It would be really nice to talk to someone who is a specialist in my 'disease' who could actually do me some good, help me get healthier, talk with me about my treatment options, but no, you can't go see a cancer doctor because they don't KNOW SHIT about CANCER treatment. It is an interesting world...
Friday, June 13, 2008
Thursday, May 29, 2008
There's a number floating around out there. I heard it first from Bruce Lipton, PhD, cellular biologist that the brain is processing 4 trillion bits of info/second. Could have been billion instead of trillion, but a big freaking number anyway. No wonder I'm tired a lot. :-). Point 2. All thoughts are creative. Nothing on the planet ever was created that wasn't first thought of. If you feel like 'it ain't going to work' then you get your creative wish. If you feel like 'I can do it', then you're likely to create that outcome. Better watch what you wish for. Point C. Thoughts, then, are prayers, because they create. What are YOU praying for 4 billion times/second?
Things that keep me alive.
Tina first and foremost. I'd be gone by now if it wasn't for her telling me to take my supplements and do my work whatever I conceive that to be. I was diagnosed 5 weeks after we got together and I told her at the time to leave, that she didn't want to be around when I started getting sick that she hadn't known me long enough to want to be a caretaker for a dying man. She wouldn't go and she's still here believing in me every day.
Bernie Siegel who taught me to study people who survived, not people who died and to get to the bottom of why I wanted the cancer diagnosis, why I might want to check out.
Course in Miracles, my group in So Cal and especially my group here in Nor Cal. Love to each of you and I'm grateful every day for you.
My support group of friends and family. They just keep sending love.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Anyway, what we're up to is ensuring that we can eat regardless of what comes down and that we have an area that we can defend if need be from people who have gone berserk, if necessary.
Bottom line, is I am planning for a long and healthy life, but am also prepared if things go the other way for me. More on that coming up.
So here I am 19 months later. Bought some land. Having been wiped out financially between the cancer and a divorce just prior, my gf and I are living in our fifth wheel, but planning to start building a house soon.
Frankly, my take on the economy is that we're headed for something akin to the Great Depression. More in a mo'
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Regardless of your 'station in life' a terminal diagnosis affects you the same way. This is one of those things that crosses all socioeconomic boundaries. Ted Kennedy will get the finest medical care on the planet unlike most of the rest of us, but given the state of cancer medicine in the world, the positive effects are generally limited. His probable outcome is much worse than mine, his odds are poor and the timing is much tighter. We are all connected, we are all one. His cancer is my cancer on the emotional spiritual plane, and so is yours.
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Saturday, May 17, 2008
The Cancer Personality: Its Importance in Healing
by W. Douglas Brodie, MD.
Evidence of a relationship between cancer and personality type has existed for centuries. Going back in history to the second century AD, Galen, a Greek physician famous for his astute observations of patients and for his accurate descriptions of diseases, noted that women with breast cancer frequently had a tendency to be melancholic.
In dealing with many thousands of cancer patients over the past 28 years, it has been my observation that there are certain personality traits which are rather consistently present in the cancer-susceptible individual. These characteristics are as follows:
1. Being highly conscientious, dutiful, responsible, caring, hard-working, and usually of above average intelligence.
2. Exhibiting a strong tendency toward carrying other people's burdens and toward taking on extra obligations, often “worrying for others.”
3. Having a deep-seated need to make others happy, tending to be “people pleasers.” Having a great need for approval.
4. Often having a history of lack of closeness with one or both parents, sometimes, later in life, resulting in lack of closeness with spouse or others who would normally be close.
5. Harboring long-suppressed toxic emotions, such as anger, resentment and/or hostility. Typically the cancer-susceptible individual internalizes such emotions and has great difficulty expressing them.
6. Reacting adversely to stress, often becoming unable to cope adequately with such stress. Usually experiencing an especially damaging event about 2 years before the onset of detectable cancer. The patient is unable to cope with this traumatic event or series of events, which comes as a “last straw” on top of years of suppressed reactions to stress.
[compare Dr. Hamer’s “Iron Rule of Cancer”]
7. Showing an inability to resolve deep-seated emotional problems and conflicts, usually arising in childhood, often even being unaware of their presence.
Typical of the cancer-susceptible personality, as noted above, is the long-standing tendency to suppress “toxic emotions,” particularly anger. Usually starting in childhood, this individual has held in his/her hostility and other unacceptable emotions. More often than not, this feature of the affected personality has its origins in feelings of rejection by one or both parents. Whether these feelings or rejection are justified or not, it is the perception of rejection that matters, and this results in a lack of closeness with the “rejecting” parent or parents, followed later in life by a similar lack of closeness with spouses and others with whom close relationships would normally develop. Those at higher risk for cancer tend to develop feelings of loneliness as a result of their having been deprived of affection and acceptance earlier in life, even if this is merely their own perception. These people have a tremendous need for approval and acceptance, developing a very high sensitivity to the needs of others while suppressing their own emotional needs.
These good folks become the “caretakers” of the world, showing great compassion and caring for others, and going out of their way to look after the needs of others. They are very reluctant to accept help from others, fearing that it may jeopardize their role as caretakers or that they might appear to have too much self-concern. Throughout their childhood they have typically been taught “not to be selfish,” and they take this to heart as a major lifetime objective. All of this benevolence is highly commendable, of course, in our culture, but must be somehow modified in the case of the cancer patient. A distinction needs to be made here between the “care-giving” and the “care-taking” personality. There is nothing wrong with care-giving, of course, but the problem arises when the susceptible individual derives his/her entire worth, value and identity from his/her role as “caretaker.” If this shift cannot be made, the patient is stuck in this role, and the susceptibility to cancer greatly increases.
As noted above, a consistent feature of those who are susceptible to cancer appears to be that they “suffer in silence,” and bear their burdens without complaint. Burdens of their own as well as the burdens of others weigh heavily, often subconsciously as well as consciously, upon these people because they, through a lifetime of suppression, internalize their problems, cares and conflicts. The carefree extrovert, on the other hand, seems to be far less vulnerable to cancer than the caring introvert described above.
How one reacts to stress appears to be a major factor in the development of cancer. Most cancer patients have experienced a highly stressful event, usually about 2 years prior to the onset of detectable disease. This traumatic event is often beyond the patient's control, such as the loss of a loved one, loss of a business, job, home, or some other major disaster. The typical cancer victim has lost the ability to cope with these extreme events, because his/her coping mechanism lies in his/her ability to control the environment. When this control is lost, the patient has no other way to cope.
Major stress, as we have seen, causes suppression of the immune system, and does so more overwhelmingly in the cancer-susceptible individual than in others. Thus personal tragedies and excessive levels of stress appear to combine with the underlying personality described above to bring on the immune deficiency which allows cancer to thrive.
These observations have given rise to the term psychoneuroimmunology.
[compare articles on psychoneuroimmunology and immune system]
In my experience, one of the most difficult and most important hurdles to overcome in cancer patients is how to make major changes in their life-styles. Not only is it necessary to make changes in the physical aspects of their lives such as eating habits, but major changes need to be made in the way they react to stress. The way they react to stress is due largely to the way they think about life. There can be no lasting changes of behavior without first having a change in thinking and in belief systems. It is often extremely difficult for these patients to make substantial changes in these ingrained patterns of thought. Many find it too difficult or too disagreeable to make such alterations in their settled way of thinking and reacting. Many likewise find it too unpleasant to make changes in the physical aspects of their life-style, even in the face of life-threatening illness.
In my office patients are counseled to address their problems and to make the appropriate adjustments to the best of their ability. A psychologist with extensive experience in dealing with these unique problems is readily available to our patients.
These patients are encouraged to take charge of their own health and to be active participants in their care. They are urged to learn as much as possible about the disease and all of the treatment options, including the various conventional modalities.
So, here I start my cancer blog, I’m thinking. Writing that comes automatically to me, through me. Yesterday to Edel for a session. Her message was ‘worthy’. Know that you are ‘worthy’ of healing, worthy of taking the time for yourself. Tina has taken over a good chunk of the work, she’s better at what she’s working on them I am anyway. Yesterday, I cleaned the other trailer up and did some repairs. I just picked up one thing and then the next thing and didn’t get stressed about how much was getting done. How did that happen? That has been so unusual for me in the past.
OK supplements...VitalzymX, Kyolic Garlic, Major MultiVitamin Source Naturals Elan Vital, Vitamin C, Primrose Oil, Fish Oil, Red Clover, Eleuthero, Thisylin, AHCC, Vitamin K, Spirulina. Sometimes I get into Apricot Pits for a while (a natural source of laetrile). This amounts to some 50-60 pills/day and it ain't cheap. There is research that supports everything I'm taking. I also think detox is a major part of the equation and eating nothing but organic foods, little meat, little dairy, major exercise program, yoga, meditation and way more that I'll elaborate on in future, should anyone care. I did a spreadsheet of supplements and quantities that I'd share. I compiled research from a number of sources to put that together. I can talk somewhat intelligently about why each is on my list and why others are not. Ralph Moss at cancerdecisions.com is a great source of information about alternatives and also why the cancer 'industry' is the way it is. "Follow the MONEY!"
Over the past 10 years, medical doctor and cancer surgeon Ryke Geerd Somebodyorother studied 20,000 Cancer patients and found that there is always a traumatic stress situation preceding the cancer that directly correlates on an emotional level to the location of the cancer outbreak. The episode is normally described as the single most stressful situation that person ever encountered, one that he/she faced alone for the most part.
I was diagnosed in November of 2006, therefore there should be a traumatically stressful episode preceding that period. The most traumatic episode for me was probably a combination of both my parents dying plus divorce and leaving a place that I lived (
He found that when the emotional conflict was resolved the cancer either healed or went into stasis.
So, OK, admittedly, I hadn’t completely resolved any of that shit by 11/06. By the nature of the process of the bad stuff, I’m still not completely resolved. I’m happier, but still pissed off.
Here’s the source of my anger. I’ve been a wonderfully compassionate and sensitive soul since birth. My theory is that those that are sensitive and compassionate (Buddha, Jesus, Dalai Lama, and people like most of those we hang with) are old souls who are here on this planet to work more closely toward the embodiment of the Christ consciousness on earth and to assist in moving the species toward the same through teaching and example. I think it’s a tough hand to play. In addition, there are fewer in one’s peer group.
I went down the hill on the land and sorta found a sorta flattish spot where I’d like to build a little 8’ diameter round meditation deck with a couple of cutouts one for a bowl of water and one for a bowl of fire of some sort. Maybe just a candle. The yin/yang symbol would work great for that with the candle bowl and water bowl where the ‘dots’ are in the symbol. Also perhaps a tiny 10x10 overnight cabin with kerosene lamps and a cot and a window. Anyway, that’s fantasy for off in the future and can’t get in the way of doing my ‘work’ today, huh?
Life is an odd mixture of learning, discovery, but also the physical. Just being and appreciating this crazy life is so important and too frequently superseded by ‘doing’ and ‘having’, but there is art in physically manipulating the environment, recreating Eden, maybe that is re-engaging, undoing the separation from spirit. There’s a theory that allegorically when we were in ‘the garden of eden’ we were unaware of ourselves, that we were just one with Spirit and didn’t know relativity, didn’t know that we as humans were creative, didn’t know that we could choose or that we had free will. Being tossed out of the garden was when that understanding occurred. Then suddenly it was up to us to make choices particularly the choice of being connected or ignoring that connection.
Most of us have spent our lives disconnected. When humans live closer to the earth, they are more in touch with the things made by God, the seasons, the wild critters, plant growth, the great circle of life as the native Americans would describe it. It’s only since the industrial revolution when we left community and became cogs in the industrial machine living away from nature that we have really lost the way and lost the sense of being part of the earth and necessarily part of spirit.
I have been fortunate to have chosen early in my life to go ‘back to the garden’.
The Seeker’s Path
The seeker’s path is a path fraught with danger.
Every step, the mage could fall through the earth into an underworld of deviltry.
Around every boulder could be an enemy, behind every tree the unknown.
Dark energies that would steal his breath from him, steal his pulse.
Frequently, there is great sadness. It is not the path of comfort or happiness or peace. He walks the path alone, always alone.
Is it worth it? Could we just drink cheap beer and watch television instead?
Some could, some do.
I apparently cannot.
Spirit uses me like a rich man uses a whore.
I am not my own, though I try to make decisions and choose the life I want.
When finished with me, Power will toss me aside like a spent shell, like a bent nail pulled crooked and twisted from the world, left to rust and decay.
There is no real path. Sometimes He lights the way for a step or two, never allowing me to see the destination.
I control nothing of importance here.
Could I get a smile here? Could I have some love?
None of this shit really matters, the land, my few possessions.
They will all be taken from me or used against me.
I may be beaten with them.
My blood is what She wants, the marrow of my bones.
I will be a spirit released, flying over the earth like thistle down on the wind.
Can I do that while I yet live?
Is that what She demands of me?
Tell me, for Christ’s sake. At least tell me.
The blackgreen of the forested north slope is frosted with snow caught for a time in the branches.
A somber mood is created by pre-dawn dark snow clouds, flakes of snow, falling like they know where they are going.
“I know the key I am trying to turn is in myself”, Lawrence Durrell, Balthazar.
I teach a class based on A Course in Miracles and I'm a writer, mostly for trade pubs and I do Internet Marketing.
There. I guess that's a start. We'll see where this goes.