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Sunday, June 26, 2011

El Rio...the Temple of Rightness

This morning I wake with the River. Not the real river, but a feeling in my bones that I have traveled there in the night to listen to her, to witness her wisdom, in all the teardrops of my soul.  This river is the river to speak to all rivers, pristine, holy, alive with purity for her children. And I miss her.  I wonder if she alone could heal my breast, wash me clean and empty me back to myself and the belief that everything will be alright.

Everyone keeps saying "everything will be alright" but how can they know? Perhaps what they speak of is that, Ultimately....everything will be alright. Even illness and fear, are going to be "alright". But this isn't good enough for me. I want everything to be alright according to my plan, to my idea of what "alright" looks like.  I was expecting a miracle, and to me a masectomy, is a flat out failure. I am failing. The dream of  my life did not include loosing this breast for reasons, that don't seem concrete enough.  Confused cells? Repressed emotions? (Don't we all have these--WHY would I be the one to get this?) A rejected feminine? Anger? Touching people's bodies? Everyone seems to have their opinion as to why Aylen has breast cancer, but the truth is, does any of them REALLY know?  Most of the time, I feel they need to create a reason for their own understanding and fears, so that my cancer can seem part of a cause and effect situation, something, that if they know the reason for, well, then they themselves can avoid. It is too out of control and vulnerable to consider, sometimes things just happen, because if this can happen to me, well this, can happen to them, to anyone. We are not invulnerable to the physical laws of our third dimensional reality--right?

But then again, I dont know this is the "answer".  Perhaps the only answer is to love, deeper, longer, sharper, more comprehensively in all directions that the cancer can take you.....fear, pity, anger, confusion, isolation, frustration, wanting to turn it into a "blessing", wanting to understand its scientific laws, all of it. Bald heads, nausea, doctors, healers, mother issues, father issues....blah blah blah.  Maybe going into that space, nestled so tight along side the mother whisper, that is god, that quiet space in between all the scampering thoughts, in the wisest corner of the soul, rests a knowing so powerful, it consumes all desire to know, to figure out, to understand. It just is. I was walking on the street, I came to a street light and I looked at a dog, a beautiful rottweiler and it came to me....the cancer just is, it could be no other way. Why must I scour all the events in my life to find where it happened and when and how and who and what, it just is. It came to teach me to surrender to Love, to stop fighting, to remember the sacredness of life, the fragileness of human life.  This teaching is in the form of cancer, for whatever reason, some want to say "you chose it", well perhaps on some level, but still I feel these kind of answers, point to a human need to feel in control of God, to feel that if we make the "right" choices, then the universe is under our command and jurisdiction.  Is it?

There is a River, that runs thru a piece of land I have danced with and sweated on, and woken up under endless night skys of stars, a piece of land I have shared with friends in a good good way. In the simple way of gratitude. Digging in the earth, with my hands to create spirals and turtles woven with water and dirt, decorated with flowers and stones and small gathered sticks. These have been some of the happiest moments of my life, filled with a gratitude, immeasurable, a gratitude that needs no "answer" that doesnt need "my choice",  a gratitude that simply consumes me, to say, this, is all there is. 

I have slipped my self into her waters, naked and human to hear the currents of her understanding. To lay my head to her water, one ear submerged in her liquid, the other ear pointed to the sky, and she has spoken. Wordless and present with me. Trailing my fingers over her body, marveling at how water forms itself so delicately with touch, so perfectly in the fabric of god's creation. The  mud under my feet, soft and impressionable, my body weightless and light, free to move but slow, slow as the water resists me. To dance in the river, is to be taught the dance again and again. The endless creativity and aliveness of water, mud, bodies, air, sky, stones. Pushing myself off of rocks, finding where the shallowness teaches me to find length in laying down, in offering myself totally. Submerging my head to hear that primordial womb memory of being consumed by infiniteness, that sound that is the rush of water thru time. Of the trust in the depths below me that I cannot see, in the creatures that may or may not swim past my knees.

I have not know a poetry of truth deeper than this River, I have not experienced a depth of sacredness so comprehensive in one single solid experience of a place on the planet. So I visit her, again and again from my apartment in New York City, thru my dreams, thru my visceral memories and ask her to teach me, find me, wash me, to remind me all is not lost. That if I can find my way back to her shores, to her body of trust and sacredness, if I can drink again from her boundless resources, then I will know to such a depth of knowing, that all is not lost. And that place where cancer is no more and never has been and never could be, will swim me to salvation, will pour into my heart like an endless weaving dream that has only to give. Ribbons and ribbons of healing water elixir, the wisdom of the first medicine, the womb medicine, the ocean of god, of goddess in an out pouring of river magic.  As long as this exists on the planet at this time, I know everything is going to be alright.  It already is. It can be no other way.









Friday, June 24, 2011

June 24th 2011-Mother come home...

Still figuring out the voice of this blogging journey and what exactly it is I need/want/should? share here.
I am going to try and write daily or at least every other day as it is called DIARY of a breast...I think that implies dates and entries, like a diary.

I am only 3 months into this journey and I don't think that is really that far in. Sometimes this is overwhelming. I realize this Breast Cancer has shaken up every single aspect of my life. There are countless endless blog posts to create, as there is so much richness happening. And when I say richness I mean, I am learning and transforming on spiritual, financial, emotional, practical, physical, social, political, sexual, vocational, metaphorical, trans personal, trans global, trans galactic levels I can hardly keep up with. I don't know who I was 3 months ago, let alone a week ago. it seems like a different planet. Breast Cancer has shifted me 180 degrees in every direction and every day there is a new aspect of it, that can range from the actual disease itself to what the disease is really pointing at on deeper levels. Many days I am grateful for it, but when I think of chemotherapy and a masectomy, my belly quivers. I am scared even though I know I can and will get through it and I know my body is strong even at its weakest, which right now, I have never felt so out of shape and out of touch with my body.  But some days the darkness appears and I worry, did I just totally screw up my entire life by not listening better to my natural flow? What if? The big what if, lurking around every corner....

I think I am busying myself a bit, distracting myself with staying in the action mode. Creating groups, seeking advice, creating a fundraiser, researching, researching, researching, meeting with other women who have gone thru what I will, making phone calls and spending hours in the health food store trying to get that perfect vitamin. Its challenging to simply sit with myself and meet what my soul is speaking. There are so many practical things to do, insurance, doctors, finances, trying to figure out ways to make money while I am dealing with this, talking to friends, researching, researching researching.....all these procedures and opinions start to pile up and there is information over load. And then I am not making space to simply be with my heart, with the silence, with the mystery within.  Which I realize, at the core of this disease for me, is this lack of turning in and listening and from that listening acting and feeding and nurturing the deepest core, the self-love, the self nurturing, the feeling and listening to the body. To the emotional needs, to the feminine needs of softness and gentleness and ease. I have wanted to leave this city for ten years and something in me won't let this deeper desire be heard. Its not about the city, its about what feels good, what nurtures, what works best with my sensitivities and energies.  This city rattles my bones and mind and nervous system and I know my energy really thrives in nature and yet, I still hang on to being here. Adrenaline junky that I am....lover of passion, drama, artistic mayhem, I love this city, I love the pulse, the throb, the adrenaline rush it provides. But adrenaline rushes are not real life....they are chemicals, that cause stress and temporary highs that ultimately result in lows.

I guess it took Breast Cancer to wake me up out of it, to humble me to listen, to realize the cost of Not listening, to realize what my soul truly desires and what God ultimately is calling forth. Less stress, more silence, deeper connection to the earth and her elements, and a way of life that is prayer and deep listening.....coming home to the mother, to the mother within that wants to conceive a human child, to the mother of the body, to the mother of the earth, to the mother of the soul, to the mother that is Aylen....to find the true breast of nourishment and care that simply got a bit run over by the pulse of the world and the thronging longing of personality and ego.......well.....only human, only human.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

Agua de Vida

Water is the first medicine. Without her we would perish, without her we would not be. Our bodies are her. 80% of her, runs thru us, we live in her from our first moment in the womb....our planet is covered by her caress, her force and her nourishment.

Why do we put her in plastic? Why do we pollute her? Take a plunge in the fresh water of a stream or lake or pond. That kind of water will have a way with you, if you listen, that will nourish the deepest stream of your soul. Talk to the water, pray with her, respect her in your body, in your mind, in your heart, in your womb if you have one.  Water....she is a great teacher.


Hi, How are you doing?

I am noticing something about something, here in NYC. Maybe its not just NYC. But because I live here half of the time, and now with the whole breast cancer thing, I am kind of stuck here for now, I think it must have something to do with the energy of the place.

Its called the "Hi, How are you doing" syndrome, usually written over text message, but sometimes in conversation.  As I am writing this two people just IM'd me to say exactly those words -"Hi, how are you doing?" Don't get me wrong, we live in modern times and these are our tools, and hey, I for sure do it to, sometimes just wanting the person to know, I am thinking about them.  I guess now that I am going thru something so personal, core wrenching and humbling I am beginning to notice even more, when people are really communicating with you or just talking some words at you that they think pass for human interaction. Because our lives are so busy here, and our attention is pulled in so many directions, I guess I shouldn't like, get "mad" about it. I mean everyone is doing the best they can, I suppose. But some days I start to feel like Holden Caulfield and begin to understand why Salinger lived a life of seclusion. (If you don't know who Holden Caulfiend is or JD Salinger, highly recommend going to the local book store and picking up a copy of "Catcher in the Rye" by Salinger.) I usually tend to lean on the side of romanticism with people, finding the good, the positive, the happy, but then, they go and do something so insensitive, and I realize, actually, people are more caught up in this zoom zoom, pay the bills, get the clients, look hot, remember to smile for the pictures on facebook, let me find out what this person does and how they can help me, than I have realized. Sorry if this posting sounds like I have a chip on my shoulder, but frankly, I think life could be lived just about ten steps deeper, and if our lives are so busy we can't fully be present with people, why are we doing all the things we think are so important? If each other is not at the top of the list, what is?

I notice, especially in New York, when you ask people "How are you doing?" they immediately tell you all the things they are DOING...."Well I am now working with this client and we just bought this and now I have this project and soon we are going be opening this"....but that's not what I asked. The question wasn't "WHAT are you doing", the question is "HOW are you doing?".  What is going on in your heart, in your soul, in your experience of life, how is your human journey going? I mean its cool you are doing all these cool things, but as we know doing cool things doesn't mean much about the soul or the heart, I mean not really. Sometimes people are asking me how I am doing and maybe I am giving too much information about my process, I mean, I am thinking and feeling into alot of strange things. Whether the doctors really need to cut into my abdomen to make me a new breast, whether loosing my hair is going to affect my sense of being a woman, will a man ever fall in love with me now that I have been "plagued" by cancer, whether I will be able to have children, why is this happening to me when I have lived so healthfully and am so young,

And WHY? WHY? do people think it is okay to tell me their opinion of what I did "wrong" to "get" cancer.  Its like people have to have a reason in their minds that I have this so they feel better that they won't get it. Is there a reason why I shaved my legs today and found a bruise on my leg? Should I go process my feelings related to not walking my child hood dog more often and picking on my little brother? As if cancer is punishment and I "deserve" it. What if this cancer is the answer to my prayers and the gate to my freedom, opening a path of service and joy for humanity?  What if its just a random weird thing, that my body has to pass thru to absolve some karma from some past life? What if this is in God's perfect plan for reasons that without it, I would never ever  know. What if actually I am luckier than most people who never get it, because it will make me a deeper, kinder, more grateful human being?

But mostly, I am seeing that life is so exceptionally beautiful, so exquisitely perfect and humanity is still only living at a percentage of their possibility, only skimming the surface of what kind of life on planet earth we really could be creating. Instead of wasting all these resources, making money our god, and seeking power and prestige like hungry homeless people, we could be living closer to the pulse of our mother (earth), sharing our resources which we don't  "own", with each other and creating a society based on acceptance and love rather than competition and domination. And if you think I am being extreme here, I am, but each and everybody can fall into whispers of these extremes in their human individual lives.  Myself included. Its the pulse of our "modern" world, which is still very primal. We just have fancier gadgets.

Yes, I know it is getting better and there is this surge of human consciousness and everyone is really DOING THE BEST THEY CAN, but ya know what? I think we can do even better. Myself included. I think being honestly able to answer the question "How are you doing" when you meet another human is a damn good start.

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Fertility Fiasco

One of the hardest things about this whole Cancer trip is the fertility fiasco. On top of everything else you are going thru, trying to keep your breast, make the right decisions, read pathology reports and deal with Doctor attitude, they tell you, "Oh and how old are you....? Did you want to have children?". Suddenly the gift of motherhood, that I must admit, I seriously took for granted, is swinging in  your face by a dangling thread. I think I cried for a whole day straight. I took trips to the bathroom and to check facebook, but all the announcements of people having babies, made me cry again. Seriously? I knew I should have just moved to the top of the mountain and stayed away from cell phones, pesticides, smog, acid rain, birth control pills and tampons, damn-it, how has my life come to this? But it has.

Chemotherapy is a no joke, invasive, take no prisoners kind of therapy that kills cancer and a whole bunch of other things your body needs like hair follicles and little eggs that could one day be....your children. Yes, I know. You can just adopt. If I hear that anymore from people who already have children, I am going to scream. It is true, yes, I can adopt, I could also just get a puppy or raise foster children, or be a clown at children's birthday parties. But just realize if I do those things I don't get to participate in carrying a child in my belly for 9 months, birthing or morning sickness. Not to mention breast feeding.  And I don't take this lightly. It's simply not the same, maybe equal in love and the experience of being a mother, but its not the same experience. And quite frankly, damnit, I want the big belly one. Call me selfish.

The good news is there are ways around this. You could just not take chemo, go the natural route and take your chances on the cancer not spreading. There are miracles out there.Thats an individual decision that I really can't say is good or bad, but for me, I would be up at night tossing and turning in cancer sweat.  Or you can harvest and freeze your eggs before the chemo therapy starts, and if you can't get pregnant after chemo, (some women HAVE gotten pregnant after chemo) you at least have some frozen eggs as back up. I chose this route. My entire life I have imagined that one day I would have a child. I am not loosing that chance to breast cancer. Just to know I am doing what I can to keep the possibility of this dream alive, is the least I can do. I am only 34, I have another at least, 6 years, to be a mother.

Paying for this harvesting is a different story. Harvesting and freezing eggs can cost up to $15,000 dollars! And most insurance's do not cover it.  This definitely needs to be changed and put into some sort of breast cancer clause, amendment, whatever, change it! If you are like me and at age 34 have not put together a significant savings plan, this amount of money for something so precious, after not working for a time to deal with breast cancer, can be stressful to come up with in a short amount of time, to say the least. You must harvest your eggs before you begin chemotherapy, because after or during is just too late.  And because doctors are in such a hurry to get that cancer out of your body, they want you to move fast....  Fortunately I found a great non-profit called Fertile Hope. They are part of the Livestrong Foundation and provide low cost fertility options for women whose cancer treatments may render them infertile. www.fertilehope.org

Fertile Hope donates the high cost fertility medicines and also works with a number of doctors and fertility clinics to bring about low cost treatment. I am paying about $5000 for mine and working with a top notch fertility doctor, Dr. Oktay, who has been on a number of cancer websites giving advice about fertility options. This has been a life saver! Literally.  The only issue is, the medications cause estrogen levels to rise, and being that I have estrogen positive cancer, its not the best thing for me. Fortunately, Dr. Oktay will give me a drug called Fumera (Its probably spelled wrong) which will help bring my estrogen levels down and is usually covered by insurance and if not, is like $50-$100 dollars for 13 pills. Phewwwww. I was worried my $5,000 was turning into $8,000.  All my office visits, anesthesia for the day of the procedure, the sonnegram and the actual procedure are covered. The only extra is a $25/month storage fee, so the little guys stay frozen and well protected. Right now, I am feeling very grateful that there are people in the world who create programs like this to help others.....now...to come up with $5,000 dollars......angels conspiring....all will be.






Saturday, June 11, 2011

24 Hours In Bed with JOG

John. Of. God.

John of God is the famous trance channel in Brazil.  A middle aged Brazilian man known for his ability to go into trance and heal people of various ailments, with the help of some 30 different "entities".  He has been doing healings since 1978.....except he doesnt remember a single thing he does once he goes under, it is the work of the entities and God he says. Thousands line up at his center to receive his blessings, healings and "surgerys", which he sometimes does with a kitchen knife, and zero anesthesia.  So far no one has complained. If you find him on U-tube you will find videos of people all in white, lining up inside a big room with blue and white walls hobbling on crutches, sitting in wheel chairs, and dragging IV lines. There are countless stories of healings and happenings, spirits and meditative experiences, as well as complete cures of various intense illnesses.  As proof of this, on one of the videos someone has filmed an area in the center, where you see a pile of crutches and wheel chairs as people are healed and set free, presumabley tossing them aside as they leave the surgery room.  My skeptical mind wonders how long it took to create that pile, a week? A month? Was that just in one day? I search the internet for statistics, I want to read "healed 22 people with stomach cancer, 18 of breast cancer, 3 of diabetes 2 broken legs and a bad case of a broken heart, all in the month of April".  I don't find this kind of information on line. Maybe faith doesn't work in statistics. But modern science sure does. To have people tell me--"so many have been healed by him", and yet I don't get names and telephone numbers, triggers my skeptical mind further. This is what I want. I want PROOF. Is this "unspiritual" of me? At this point I don't care, I want guarantees, I have breast cancer, I want it gone and I want to get up in the morning and have this cancer story finished so I can go out and live my life.  Generalities do not help me sleep at night.  I wish I could be more in the blind faith category, but lets get real, I just want to get well and live a happy life, and I don't care how that happens. Doctors, healers, dolphins, herbs, vizualization, trance healers, chemotherapy, or raditation if it means LIFE, I believe it. Call me old fashioned.

My first introduction to John Of God happened about 6 years ago, when my college boyfriend was diagnosed with Brain Cancer and all the traditional medicine wasn't working. He had called me, after 2 years of not hearing from him, (we had been broken up for some time) and thinking he had gotten better, only to find out it was back and he was sitting in his wheel chair, sounding weak and faint, asking me, did I know of any healers at this crucial hour. Immediately I contacted my girlfriend in LA,  a former lingerie model and stripper who had become involved with a group of healers and had left the sexy world of bodies to enter into the healing world of bodies. She was one of those women who could do that kind of transition and be taken seriously. She was a gemini, go figure.


Her immediate response was to direct him to John of God, a name that at the time sounded like such a complete quak job. Who was he to say he was of God?....and John? Like from the bible? But, her stories of successes and healings, resonated in my gut as true, and since he didn't charge any money, I felt, well, if he isn't getting rich off his promises, perhaps this guy is on to something real. In those days, I mostly trusted and kept the skepticism to myself, especially if it involved other people on deaths door. Today, I mostly remain a skeptic and keep the trusting to myself, especially if it involves my own healing. I am a gemini rising, go figure.

My beautiful first boyfriend Randy, rest his soul in absolute peace, never went down to Brazil, for reasons I still don't really know. And he died of brain cancer about a year later, having been diagnosed about four years prior. I always will wonder what would have happened had he gone down and I will always remember, that when I told him about John of God he sounded skeptical and wanted to be reassured that it would work. When I asked him what his inner voice was saying, all he said was, "I can't hear it", there was just too much fear, he couldn't let it in, he was panicking.  Randy was "spiritual", whatever that means these days. He meditated, he believed in the power of the mind and the awareness that something larger was driving the show, but he was also skeptical of many things and always was questioning any spiritual path I chose. Maybe protective is a better word. But I guess when you are sitting in a wheel chair with all your hair falling out and your parents going broke to take care of you, a plane ticket down to Brazil, not to mention traveling in that state, to visit some guy wielding a knife and going into trance probably sounds a bit far out. Maybe he thought, better to give another round of chemo a try or perhaps his mother was afraid he wouldn't survive the trip. I don't know, I could never work up the courage to ask his mother after his death, anyway, I never thought she liked me and he and I had such a tumultuous first love romance, I didn'āŠĪ t want to add to any one's stress or sadness. I regret that to this day, another time in life, I feel I just couldn't fully let in and feel. The grief and sadness of loosing your first love, who truth be told, I still carried the young love dream that one day we would find each other again and get married. Instead, I stuffed the situation to the back of my mind, perhaps into my breast, and moved forward into the life I had still had ahead of me.  Secretly feeling callous and uncaring, and feeling ashamed I had not done more to see him one last time or help him. But maybe it wasnt what was needed for Randy, perhaps people die according to a schedule I simply can never know how or why or for what purpose. Perhaps my own life is on that same schedule and I will never know if its "right" or "wrong" to live or die. Everyone just assumes, that fighting for your life is the only choice, they never consider simply surrendering the master plan, anyway, do we have that much control over it, really?

I had been carrying these questions around in my mind after my diagnosis of Stage 1 Breast Cancer, suddenly stopping in the middle of grocery shopping or the locker room at the gym, something taking hold of me in a moment, to say, I could die. The realization that death was possible suddenly becoming very real.  And then, looking around at everyone else around me, busy in their lives, thinking, but we all will die, we are just visitors to this time and space and pair of shoes and dinner plans for the evening and this pressing phone call we think is so important right now. Its not going to stay put no matter what we do. When we are young and healthy and "spiritual" and educated with friends doing amazing things in life and buying plane tickets to exotic destinations, and supposedly "safe" and "protected" from things like death, we can forget to not take things for granted. But this is cliche right? Everyone says this when they get rocked by the possibility of death, or illness. But its not a cliche. Its very real this awareness that isn't just a moment lost in thought but suddenly a reality popping up in more hours of the day, that you cannot scoot around and dismiss.

I can remember my first teacher, Don Miguel Ruiz, calling death an angel, the Angel of Death was his term and I loved this. It sounded sexy. And for many halloweens, I would decide I was going to dress up as the angel of death, complete with angel wings all in black with alot of eyeliner and a gold halo and vampire teeth. Shadow and light personified in a safe costume. Nobody wants to call death an angel, because if we befriend death it may just come and get us, it may just win. But the truth is, death is going to win, and will always win, and only in surrendering to her power will we know the thrill of her seduction. Death is an angel. Death causes us to live now and fully. Her presence reminds us of time, of our finite time here, lived by an infinite soul.  Of Carpe Diem. Of the Now. As in "right now before you die'.  And I realized I wasnt afraid of death,  what I was really afraid of was wasting a chance at fufilling a purpose for life, I was afraid of letting God down. Big Daddy in the sky God, who would wag his finger at me when I got up to heaven and say "Now why'd you go and get cancer when I gave you so much to work with down there, you were all set up kid, and you wasted it to cancer, so cliche. At least you could have died as a brilliant poet or a tormented musicican." The fear was failure, was being embaressed that I had screwed up and not gone for it in this life, to live fully in line with the soul, with the rebel spirit, with the undying passion of speaking up and sharing the deepest heart. It was like getting on the roller coaster, approaching the big upward mount and then getting off before you got the free fall woosh of intoxication. Damn it. This is not what I wanted. People were going to laugh at me, I was going to look like a fool if this is how the story ended. It was looking ridiculous that has always been my biggest fear, not death, lord knows, many a broken heart, I had wished to die, many a teenage melodrama I had planned my death to spite  my parents, to fufill my soul thru self destruction. Death was the least of my worries. It was being a fool, a sad case in the eyes of god and the world that kept me up at night.

So when the oppurtunity came to do this long distance healing with John of God, I wondered what for? To make the cancer gone? That wasnt really going to solve the issue. Then what? The cancer is gone and then I have to live my life. Doing what? Will I really live it now, or will I just go back to old patterns, stuffing things to the back of the closet, not fully stepping into living from the heart, kind of dilly dallying around with the ideas of things and jumping from one thing to the next? This was how I had been living my life. This was not the life I wanted to go back to. If I was going to live, I wanted to live a different life, I wanted to live the life, I knew I kept planning to live, alive in the heart, soul, body. Getting rid of the cancer was just the surface issue, living beyond the cancer was what my soul longed for. So if anything, even if John of God and his crew of some 30 entities didnt make the cancer dissapear, well maybe they could recharge my soul, my heart, my desire to live and create and grow. Maybe they would give me some special sauce to amp up the tune of my life, maybe they would hand me some keys to unlock the places that had gotten stuck inside. Maybe they could just root out where I had forgotten how much I did want to live, now, in this body at this time with these friends with this name and address and planet. Maybe this was better than getting rid of any cancerous cells, maybe they knew it wasn't really about the cancer anyways. Maybe they knew that I knew this and they knew that I wanted that and so they would just help me get to where I already knew I wanted to go. Maybe they were well ahead of the whole cancer game already, and just wanted to come and tickle me in the night, and get me giggling back to life again, back to the real reason I came, not to "beat" cancer, or to "fight" for my life, but simply to LIVE it. Now. Like a kid, real as rain life, on life;s terms, cancer or no cancer, did it really matter? It wasn't about the cancer is what I am trying to say. And it wasn't about getting "healed" or a miracle, it was about LIFE.

So. Once that was clear on the inside, life as it does opens up the perfect setting to recieve the physical manifestation of that realization. A space of time, rent paid, (thank you parents), fear of money temporarily settled, a cozy room to myself between operations, the healer angel friend connecting the dots in brazil to make it happen and walla. Fast forward to a few weeks ago. The special herbs came in the mail, a protocol of no pork, peppers, alchol or sex for 40 days. No sex?!! Masturbation? Nope. Not even arousal. Funny how sex was the last thing on my mind and the minute they say no sex, suddenly, porn shops are catching my eye. I even left the herbs sitting on the altar in the living room for a week before I started taking them. Resistance is like this sometimes. My reasoning was "I am charging them up with divine energy" as if John of God wasnt charged enough. As if we have to be perfectly ready to recieve God, as if God is waiting for us to be perfect before "he" decides to dance thru us....We little humans think we know so much, and really, we are sitting on the doorstep of a tsunami ready to pour us back out into an ocean of endlessness, if we only surrender and just take the freakin herbs already. Follow the protocol life is handing us.

Immediately, upon taking the herbs I felt a little divine lift.  I felt these little capsules in round blue bottles with portuguese written on them were really acting like connectors to a vortex. Little portals connecting me or at least tuning my body so that I would be ready to receive this healing. Opening secret doorways within my cells and soul, to let in this healing energy that was slowly moving towards me, preparing me to receive these new guests in my 24 hours in bed, alone in a room in white. Bed. Bed and more bed, as my healer angel friend had joked. This was the protocol. 24 hours of bed, only moving to get drink, nourishment or el bano. Nada mas. No checking facecrook, no making a quick phone call, no stopping to try on my roomates lipstick, and definitely no hands in the cookie jar, let alone the pork or peppers jar. At the time I would enter the bed was the exact time John of God would be down in Brazil with my picture, laying on the secret sauce. I could not be tardy for this.

So I set about preparing. I cleaned my room, I re-did my altar, added another one, washed the sheets, found a beautiful white dress in the back of the closet. Set up the Boise and Ipod, set to healing Brazilian songs in Portuguese ( I wanted the spirits to sing along with me) and chants from  a deep well of a select group of soulful goddesses. I saged, I copaled, I took a nice shower, and got a massage an hour before showtime-12:30 pm so I was all ready to just BE. I ate a some whole wheat toast, took melatonin (part of my acupuncturists cancer regime) and finally called back my healer angel friend who had called three times the morning of making sure I was ready. "He's ready, are you?, My god where have you been, I am going to need a sedative after this" Somehow I had missed her calls, thinking they were insurance agents vying for my dollar. NEVER fill out those forms on line about getting insurance qoutes, they fill up  your inbox and have no mercy in trying to get you to buy from them and you end up avoiding answering the phone for fear, some strange voice is going to ask for you and mispronounce your last name in a southern accent. 

After I had calmed my healer angel friend, I put on my good luck medicine necklace and bracelet, called my healer one last time ( "just call me when you are actually in the bed, so I can rest") and told her, "If I leave with the spirits, make sure my parents pay you for the herbs". I pulled the shades and curtains and then I was alone. In my room with the new white sheets and the smell of copal and a couple of candles burning and a woman calling in Krishna. The sounds of second avenue just outside my window, my roomate gone for the weekend, the upstairs neighbors creaking and rolling something over the floor, my stuffed bunny from Duane Reade in my arms, my crystal in my hand and a bunch of herbs on my nighstand table. 24 hours stretched out before me, with nothing to do but lay in bed.  Bed, bed and more bed. No texting? No. Prayer, solace, sleep, review of life, review of death, prayer, bed, bathroom, nibbles. No texting. Prayer, bed, review of life. Look at clock, no texting, prayer, ....

Immediately upon lying down I felt something kind of take me, energetically and I feel asleep for six hours, waking up at 6;30pm. My hand was on my heart, and I was bathed in sweat, feeling a subtle surging thru my body, a sense of a presense in my awareness, and a deep stillness inside, a sense of calm. And then I prayed.  I placed as much of my heart as I could on the tip of my tongue and mind and offered it to whoever had come to visit me. "Make yourself available" my healer angel friend had advised. I could feel my mind wandering, over things like time, and was I doing it right and did I feel anything and what was I going to do after these 24 hours, but beyond these thoughts was a very real sense of an energy dancing. I could feel an "instruction" to put my hands on my breast and breathe long breaths of intention into this breast and to speak aloud anything hidden in my mind, any hidden fears or worries. Like a purging. I also could feel a comforting, a sense of being told to comfort myself, to hold myself to snuggle into the deepest part of my heart. My little stuffed bunny felt alive in these moments, as if filled with a comforting energy, like a child animates her toys, but it felt real and warm and caring. And I noticed how my crystal fit perfectly in my hand, with my pointer finger over the top curving into the shape of my hand perfectly. Sometimes I would give in to my restlessness in between and wander into the kitchen for some crackers. And I noticed, walking thru the living room, I was slow, and sensitive, kind of groggy, and my body really didn't want to move, it was just the restless mind. I would come back to bed soon after, the crackers tasteless, not entirely needed for hunger, rather for restless impatience of the mind. And drop back into bed like a surrender and feel the energy take me again.

I passed thru visions of inspiration of how I wanted to live my life, practical ways to manifest abilities, new ideas, new possibilities, ways I wanted to restructure my healing practice, how  much I wanted a family and children, to give more love to the people in my life, to write and share and create. It all seemed possible, and I was reminded it was the truth of what could be if I wanted it. At certain points I felt a pulsing in  my breast, at the site where the tumor had been actually removed. And I felt myself passing thru a review of my life. How certain actions had led up to this point, insight into how I was living my life that wasn't working, how i was rushing thru things and jumping so fast from one thing to another, I was rushing thru my life and missing the deepest parts of it. I saw how I was trying to escape something inside of me, running from myself to get to what I wanted outside but actually running away from everything I truly wanted inside. I was shown my relationship to abundance and lack and had to take a very honest look at how I had disrespected the abundance that had come my way out of this running to buy, to acquire, to travel to some place that could fulfill me, to get the right healer, or shaman or cute outfit to fill this hole in my soul, that really needed expression, an outlet, a voice, a facing up to, to see it wasn't a void of ugliness, but a void of immense possibility. And I felt the sadness at seeing how  much time and resources I had wasted on this illusion of fear and lack, on this shadow self that I thought had the power over me, that I thought if I could just avoid and meditate away from or cleanse, then I could avoid it. But what it really needed was a voice, a recognition, a witnessing, a turning on the light to its own lie of the mind. Not a hiding and stuffing as I had done into this breast to come back and bite me with a crisis like breast cancer. Look at me, it was saying, see me, do not run from me, I have gifts of awareness for you, of gratitude of humility.

And then in the morning, a hell descended and I encountered a place inside my soul that wanted to die, a place that really thought it was all pointless and would never get better and that I was a hopeless case. Not hopeless like I couldn't "beat" the cancer, but that even if I did beat the cancer, my life wouldn't change and even cancer wasn't enough to wake me up to start living the life that God really wanted for me. That truly, lets face it, I was broken, unworthy selfish mess, and the spirits had probably already abandoned me. This wasn't going to work I had gotten cancer because I deserved it, I was really a very very bad little girl, just posing as some spiritual person looking for love. I was a hopeless fraud. I know this place of intense suffering, the place inside the mind, that is so dark, we are afraid to admit to our spiritual circles for fear of appearing un holy or "dark" but here it was. And I was alone in a room with it and it was dragging me down. I began to panic a bit inside, oh no, I thought, I am sabotaging the healing, the spirits can't get in because this shadow has more control over the situation and I am powerless to stop it. This damn shadow will always get the best of me, in the end, I am always going to loose. This is the cancer, this is the real cancer. It is a cancer of the mind, a darkness of the soul, that we cower from and give power to. And in that moment I heard a voice, whether it was mine or some spirit, I don't know but it was clear, It said "rise up and sit up on the bed and say no more. You have the power to rise out of its grasp. It is not you, it does not have power. It has as much power as you allow it." And I did. Not in the heroic way I had hoped, sit up tall and powerful all in white bathed in light and dramatically pronounce that I would not give it power anymore, pull out my sword and cut it into little bits like a magical fairy tale. But I did sit up and it took strength to sit up out of that depressive repetitive comfortable pattern of my deepest mind hook and  simply say I want to live beyond this, I know I can. To step up, not perfectly as I thought it should look, but in my own honest and real way with the strength I could find and have that be enough to pull me thru to the other side and see how much help is available if we only try just a bit.  Our minds make our fall from grace a dramatic "fall". Maybe all we have done is trip on a little stone and god is just steering us back on course. And I realized God wasn't mad at me, he was just tapping me on the shoulder. Saying, I know you got more in there girl, I know you got more to give, I know you have been hiding the good stuff, waiting for that rainy day, so here it is, let the sunshine out. Now. Its been written in your chapter book that the sun must come out now, so, let it come. Straight from your unkempt bed, hair a mess, sweaty white dress and little bunny made in china, this is the show right here and now where no one is looking and you get no applause. This is the scene on life's terms where angels are born. It doesn't need dramatizing or adding to, its sweetness is in its surrender to what is. A little girl with breast cancer in a room on second avenue, talking to spirits from Brazil. And downstairs and outside is a whole world that has no idea what is going on, that probably doesn't care if you live or die, that is too caught up in their own running to understand how sweet a deal this is. This Cancer thing is between you and God and everything else you think you are doing in your life, rests on this relationship, right here and now. Its your choice. 

And while I cannot say some dramatic light beamed out my head and I saw Angels come in the room, I can say after that moment, something shifted that has stayed shifted. An awareness. A deeper knowing, that post poneing this relationship, this communion, this recognition is creating a distance from something so precious and real and divine, that I cannot turn away from it and why would I want to? The Angel of Death keeps tapping me on the shoulder...."if not now, when?" she purrs, criss crossing her legs, " I am coming to get you kid" she beams at me, with her smile. "Love me baby, love me, I am your ally, not your foe." And she is, a precious ally. A seductive friend that calls my deepest soul to stir in her presence. It only took 24 hours in bed for her to work her magic, seduce me to her level,  awaken my deeper passions, peace and pointlessness. She will always win and I am so grateful she always will.

The following week to the Stitches

After the 24 Hours in Bed, I had a week until I was to lay back down again in white on the 7th night at midnite, not moving until dawn to allow the "stitches" to be taken out. I was told at that time was when many people really saw spirits and had visions and experiences. I wasn't too concerned with visions or with experiences. I had recieved such a gift of guidance and practical information about my life, I felt surrendered to this quiet powerful journey that was deeply internal, personal and kind. I didnt need big lights or loud bells to make me feel it was working.

That week I was supposed to take it very easy, not even doing yoga and staying close to home to rest and rest and more rest. I didnt want to go out anyway. The city felt overwhelming every time I stepped out. The entire next day of the first 24 hours, I felt very still, lethargic in the body but sharp in my awareness and very sensitive to energy.  Loud sounds, intense feelings, sharp movements, all seemed to ruffle my feathers a bit and I found myself naturally retreating, even on the phone with people. I found myself sitting for long periods, content to just "be" to just feel the moment, to feel my heart more open. Sometimes I would be on my way to the kitchen for something and would find myself in the living room, sitting on the couch, doing absolutely nothing, but listening quietly inside.  And then sometimes my mind felt restless as I felt I should be doing something, making "progress" getting the ball rolling on other areas of my life, like jobs, procedures, research, appointments. I attended to the absolute necessary things and then when I found myself doing busy work or things I knew I could put off another week, I found myself just stopping. A gentle knudge inside that said, take your time, allow this new energy to just settle inside, these are precious times alone. Relax.  Relaxing in NYC where everyone is doing half a million things is and you feel you should be too, is sometimes a great act of power.

I found salt baths would clear the restlessness, playing music, and simply allowing myself to sleep and rest. I had friends over a few times and found, I could really only lay on the couch and let them talk or if I did talk I would find myself speaking deeper from my heart, from my center, the usual social masks of politeness or chipperness not really there to put on to create a conversation of the usual sorts. I also found I felt a bit overwhelmed and exhausted when they left, not because of them, but because they were in a different space, coming in from the city, with stories and information about the outside world, I just wasn't participating in at the moment.  Many people said I looked well rested, healthy, centered. I knew I was moving slow and that I felt a much more tangible sense of the 'other side" and felt a contentment and peace that kept returning even after I felt I had gotten off center, or thought I was racing thru things. The presence of energy stayed with me no matter what, and I realized all I had to do was relax and let it take me.  Many moments in the day I would try and jump back to racing around and getting thru things and suddenly just stop and find myself in spontaneous prayer. Very beautiful moments, very heart opening.

I stayed in most of the time but I did take walks to the grocery store or the park and noticed I was much more aware of things, much more rooted and centered in myself. I felt the review of my life continuing, I felt a greater resource of intuition and of trusting it would all work out. I felt guided, watched and cared for. I was less concerned about the state of the cancer as I was with simply being present with my life and listening to the inner stirrings. I was very content to be alone, to be in solitude, to simply commune with the sun, watch the trees, watch human life coming and going in the park. I had long sessions of prayer where information was given, but  not information as we experience words and numbers. It was more like energetic knowings, that rooted themselves in my intuition, that opened spaces within  my psyche. Things became clear. I was tired of the pace of NYC life, the vibration here. This realization came with no fighting in the mind, no sense of coming up with the opposite view as I usally do that only serves to confuse me and keep me in going back and forth with the decision to leave or to stay. I felt surrendered more deeply to what I already knew. There was less second guessing or debate within my own inner sky about things that had normally caused me to go back and forth many times, like a broken record. Simplicity never felt so good. I felt even simple to being here in NYC, dealing with cancer, it all seemed to make sense and be exactly as it needed to be.

It was an incredible week. Not because I saw spriits or had some visions in the night, but because I felt my life more deeply. Not only did I feel my life, I felt the life of an invisible realm very gently guiding and protecting me with a very non intrusive and gentle touch that almost made me forget about the cancer. Or rather, it felt so good to be alive, I wasnt worried about death. I slept alot, I ate moderately, I felt lazy in a content and clear way and I never felt alone even if I spent an entire day without seeing a friend. I wrote. I read. I cooked. But everything I did felt simple and easy. Even if I felt my mind running over something a million times, trying to find some answer to solve something or jumping between two options, there was a space and a distance that somehow kept it at bay.

The two days before I was to enter back into bed for the final taking out of the stitches, everything changed. My bliss and contentment turned to depression, flu like symptons and an aching pain in my arm pit where I had a surgery a few weeks before and had some lymph nodes taken out to be tested for cancer. They had been negative, but after that I had various pains running down my arm as presumabley the nerves were reattaching themselves. I had had no pain in my actual armpit. But suddenly 5 days of contentment turned into mild depression and pain. It felt llike  I had the flu without the symptoms of flu, I had no stuffy head, no headache or runny nose. I simply felt achey, with a fever and run down with this throbbing pain in my armpit that appeared out of nowhere. The depression was such, that I really felt hopeless and that life was pointless, I felt more alone than I had in my whole life. All I could do was sit on the couch and watch movies to escape the hell I had suddenly fallen into. I called my healer angel friend..." I am ridiculously depressed and my arm hurts like hell". How could this be? Her response? "Sounds like a whole lot of healing going on". Uh. Right. Okay. I can suffer for god, if I must.

The instructions for the last night were to lay down at midnite all in white and not move at all until dawn, the first whisper of light. I was to place a glass of water near my bed at night and in the morning to drink it. I took a bath, burned my copal, washed my white dress and prepared the music once again. Immediately upon laying down I felt intensely still. A deep calm descended and a half sleepiness and also a sense of meditation. But I couldnt keep totally still, I had drank alot of water that would not let me still and a half hour after laying down I felt el bano calling me. I thought about wetting the bed, give it up for god! but the thought of laying in soiled sheets all night didnt feel appealing.  I made a prayer and asked the spirits to forgive me and slipped out quickly to the bathroom. I felt a bit guilty but, really, I decided the spirits didnt want me feeling guilty at a time like this, they would let this go. Back in bed I got as still as I could, it was rather easy to be very still as such a calm was radiating thruout my being except a half hour later, my bladder was calling my name once again. Okay, I thought to myself, FINAL time, after this I will just wet the bed. Okay spirits? As I slipped back into bed another time, I finally found myself settlling in and falling asleep...I didnt wake until way past dawn the  next morning. My bed was dry. I drank the water next to my bed as instructed and took some more herbs. I wondered if I had ruined the healing with all my getting up....I decided, God wasnt mad at me, the spirits still were rooting for me and I didnt have to confess anything to my healer unless she asked.

The next day I felt groggy but  already the pain in my arm was receding and I felt the flu like symptoms lifting. Over the course of the next two days I felt very very well, the depression lifted and my arm felt a thousand times better. It felt as though I had been passing thru some stuck energy that needed to get cleansed and that the arm had started to surge with a clearing. By three days later, I felt very refreshed, I got a shiatsu massage and felt an intense tiredness after and then by the next day I felt my arm almost completely free of pain with more range of motion. Calm. Centered. In tune. But it had been "dark" for a good 3 days and I had passed thru spaces in my mind, that I felt powerless to over come. Yet someohow, here I was on the other side of them, alive and shining.

By Monday evening, I was preparing my living room for a group of lady friends coming over to pray and support me before my surgery on Wednesday. It felt as though this was the culmination of a process,  and we proceeded to have a beautiful night of sharing and prayer, giggles and a cozy togetherness.  Now just 26 more days of no pork, peppers, alchol or sex. Herbs 3X a day.....oh and surgery with the doctors on Wed. I hope the spirits don't mind.


Friday, June 10, 2011

Alternative Versus Traditional--An Ongoing Love Affair

The first time I met my doctor, he found out I was a healer and said "You know, I am a believer." To which I thought he meant Jesus, but which I found out, he was referring to "alternative medicine". Believing, I also later found out, meant that he didn't discount alternative medicine, meaning, he simply felt not enough studies had been done in the field of alternative medicine as had been done in traditional science. Meaning, he wasn't so much a believer but simply not a dis believer, if there is such a category. Later when he still hadn't faxed my medical report to my acupuncturist, even after I had filled out and faxed to his office the proper medical release forms, even after I had already signed on to go the traditional route as well as the alternative one, even after my acupuncturist had already worked with several patients of his, even after I called 3 times requesting it, I began to wonder. Maybe my doctor needed a little Jesus.

When I came in to the office for a visit, having my nurse slip the medical report to me as if in secret, (are we in 6th grade?) his first question was "You aren't going to go alternative on me, are you?" He was afraid. I guess, afraid, that I would just run off into the arms of my acupuncturist and decide tiny needles would route out my tumor, reverse the cancer cells and set me free as long as I took enough Grape seed extract and Turmeric. "I have patients who don't want anything and they come back to me later and I can do nothing for them" my doctor said very sternly but I must admit, with concern. Alternative medicine messes at the extreme. Except I was sitting in his office, having sought him out. "I have never seen a miracle in 30 years" he said. My doctor is a great doctor, read his bio, his education, his awards, his director of breast services at Sloan Kettering, and his research here and his amazing this there, are pretty impressive. I don't doubt that the man is an excellent leader in his profession. Except I guess he never thought to get some acupuncture. I assured him, I was working with the acupuncturist to boost my immune system and for overall good health, and I was for sure working with him and felt the best approach was a blend of eastern and western medicine. ANYWAY, if I ask for my medical report to be sent, that's my business, and you now have held up my herbal blend from getting created because my poor acupuncturist still doesn't have the report. Are we this concerned about some herbs? Come on kids, lets play together and lets play nice. We have some healing to do.

After that, I went to see my acupuncturist. I could tell I hit a nerve. "But I have worked with patients of his--its your right to have access to that! And send it where you like!", he grumbled.  He, for the record never ever, recommended I not follow what the doctor recommended, but always affirmed that alternative medicine could help my body in supporting itself to heal from the invasiveness of traditional medicine like chemo and radiation. Although, I have to say I did feel a twinge of the evil eye. " They just don't get it" he grumbled..."They think they know everything". Well, I had to admit, my regular doctor did have a certain doctor cockiness about him and he certainly didn't make me stick out my tongue or take my pulse with his own fingers as my acupuncturist did. I certainly didn't leave my traditional doctor's office feeling more in touch with life, open hearted and centered as I did when I left acupuncture. But, I also know, because of him and his surgeon skills, and countless hours of study and research, had been able to take the tumor out of my left breast. He had gone in and gotten the stuff OUT and in only 90 minutes. Although the state of my breast is not what it used to be.  Maybe a few more treatments of tiny needles would have been the better option.  Maybe mushroom therapy and meditation tapes would have made it go away as well. All I know is, that major mass of cancer is gone.

Later, that week I went to see my Energy Healer, and found a similar resentment. I told her about the process of mammograms, the squishing, the squeezing, the pressing, the weird angles of arms and shoulders, not to mention the strange metal shield around the waist and throat.  If its so safe why do I have to wear a metal shield around my womanly jewels?? I felt like Russell Crowe in gladiator. The mammogram gladiatoress, standing tall with my chest out, except my boob was in a head lock with a machine and I had no tan. And Russell Crowe didnt have the boobs that I have. I have never seen my energy healer get upset before, but she was. "Why do they think squishing and squeezing this thing is good for the breast? I hate those things. They just dont get it!" she said, setting up her table with some force.  I was suprised at this can of worms that I had suddenly opened. "Well," I said, "Do you have a better way to to see inside my breast? And please don't say go see a psychic, because I need hard core visuals. On a film, here and now in third dimensional reality".  She didn't. So. I will stick with the arm wrestling match with the machine and my metal gladiatoress shields, until someone finds me the psychic that can manifest films of breast tissue. When I need the lord I get on her table and count my lucky stars.  We did see Russell Crowe pray in Gladiator at some point, didn't we?

I have heard so much from both sides of the alternative versus traditional sides of the equation of healing, and still, only 3 months into this breast cancer journey, I know this is only the beginning. I feel the tension between the two camps and yet wonder, why are we having "camps" that are separate? We need a Woodstock of revolution in this alternative/traditional friction. Its time to dance in the mud together and be rock stars already. I wonder how doctors and healers can be so stuck on their own sides, when it seems in the interest of healing, both sides contribute fruits of wisdom to be shared and inspire the other. "Cant we all just get along?" Rodney King pleaded. I too plead it here. In the interest of Oneness, lets just keep it simple like kindergarten--share your crayons, fax the reports, respect your elders, don't put others down because they are different from you and make sure to wash your hands after the potty break. Hand sanitizer and incense may have similar effects, remember what Jesus said, "judge not, lest ye be judged" or maybe that was Paul or John or Ringo. Oh gosh I dont know, I just know at the end of the day, we all want our patients to live and tell us we are heros. We all want to dance in the mud with the good drugs and raise our hands in delight at the rising sun. I don't care how many degrees you have on your wall or how many "amazing healers" you have worked with, I know you both care.


Thursday, June 9, 2011

Diary Of A Breast

Diary of A Breast is a blog about breast cancer and the healing and discovery that occurs when a person (me) decides its not the worst thing in the world and could quite possibly become a great, great gift.
My life had been moving along at a nice pace, with many wonderful opportunities and friends and a freedom to come and go from my two homes, NYC and Costa Rica. I am a young, 34 year old female, educated, healthy, and breast cancer does not run in my family, except for a great grandmother who discovered it in her 60's.  The discovery of it should have been a shock, except, for some reason it wasn't. It has been somehow, an opportunity, to know myself and my life deeper, to speed up certain life changes and to clarify what it is that truly creates fulfillment. It has deepened relationships with friends and family, educated me on science and healing and made me reach into the deepest recesses of my soul to meet what is truer than any ambition, desire, greed or wanting. In short, breast cancer has changed my life forever and so far, all I see in that change is goodness. This blog is about this goodness and this thing called Grace that are far from gone thru, or over just yet.