Dancing, not fighting

Someone asked me why I am not “fighting” cancer.

It has taken decades of contemplation to see and appreciate that each one of us, although living on the same planet and sharing common biology, perceive and interact with “life” differently from each other. Simply put, each has an individual path sculpted by unique environment and life situations. 

My own path has shaped a desire to include as much as possible around me as “me”. “Me” extends far beyond this bag of flesh people relate to as Scott.  For most purposes, the physical container where the concept of Scott resides seems to be separate from the rest of stuff around it.  But in my experiences, it is truly is not.  One could use the terms that all is connected and all is related.

So from my perspective, cancer is not a foreign object invading my body. It is part of my body. It has arisen from my own biology. Science tells us that normally, human cells grow and divide to form new cells as the body needs them. When cells grow old or become damaged, they die, and new cells take their place.

When cancer develops, however, this orderly process breaks down. As cells become more and more abnormal, old or damaged cells survive when they should die, and new cells form when they are not needed. These extra cells can divide without stopping and may form growths called tumors.

Cancer is not attacking me. It isn’t coming from outside. It’s a deviation from normal (which, btw, pretty well describes me as a whole!). It is more “me” than all the bacteria and fauna which resides symbiotically in my body as well.

So from this understanding, fighting and attacking my own body in order to heal my body almost sounds like a slapstick sketch. How do I use my left hand to stop my right hand from slapping me in the face? 

Again, although it has been years since last practiced, some of the forms in aikido help me merge with this. Some of the kata in aikido were fluid dance steps, whirling blending of two different energies into a single direction and goal. This is the dance I keep in my heart as my radiation mask is placed over in preparation for treatment. I envision all these threads and energies from inside and out blending together, dancing and whirling, moving always toward peaceful denouement.

Greetings to all from the hospital.

After testing for two days last week, my actual treatment began Monday morning with radiation (I get to use a cool custom fitted mask that makes me feel like Tutankhamen) and then followed with my chemotherapy IV. 

As I mentioned to you all, I’m facing my cancer with gratitude, love and non-violence. So I was amused to see, upon opening my booklet explaining chemotherapy, this cute drawing emphasizing just this. It brings to mind the Aikido training I once had: blend, then lead, and control, striving for gentleness.

And of course, it goes without saying that all of your love is carrying me as well. The tools which I learned from a very recent meditation retreat are invaluable. I can easily now bring my attention to that silent place which is the source of all things, whether I’m awaiting my radiation treatment or feeling the strong medicine coming into my body. Being able to move my attention around is likely why I am currently feeling very little side effects from the chemo. Everything I receive here I try to take with gratitude, direct with love, and put it in place with peace. 

Love you all so much.

ps  the drawing shows the chemo drug hugging the cancers, saying, let’s be friends. Then it dissolves and keeps them from multiplying, then “lays them down”, saying let’s be gentle.

Working with cancer #2

Not quite two years ago (July 2018) I received confirmation that I had prostate cancer.  Considering I had absolutely no symptoms other than a rising PSA level which led to a positive biopsy, it became a process of hospitals visits, hormone suppression shots, etc for 9 months leading up the actual treatment (implanted radioactive seeds).  Following that of course more visits to the hospitals (plural, as the treatment was done in Kyoto; so that meant going there and my local one every other month to check on things).

Finally, early this spring, it seemed that my overall rising PSA level peaked safely and time to take a breath of air. But with my latest check came along a persistent swelling of a neck lymph gland.  My urologist recommended seeing an ENT. The ENT found two small growths. Biopsied. Positive for squamous cell carcinoma (metastasized). That led to trip to a larger hospital with a PET scan to locate the primary. It was found on the epiglottis and biopsied. Within in two weeks, I was planned for hospitalisation.

Fortunately, it seems that this is a viral connected type of cancer, and as such, should respond well with treatment (chemo and radiation).

But as the treatment plan (two months of hospitalisation) was a big surprise to us (expecting surgery and radiation perhaps),  there was a big rush of planning to try to create that time space.  Although not looking forward to two months of hospital regime, given the state of current covid19 in the world, perhaps a safer place to be. Besides, I had been telling myself for years I had been wanting to do a long retreat. My wife tells me often I need to be more specific in my prayers!

Basically I had three things to deal with in those two weeks (not including the actual feelings and engagement with cancer, that I would work on later). I was scheduled to begin a 4 day online retreat on a Thursday afternoon (10 days before hospital), it was one that I had been looking forward to for over a year and it was finally taking place. Ah, relaxation and the chance to enter treatment with my interior battery charged up.

But number two, my online business is mostly my efforts and couldn't continue for two months without my daily input. Realizing I need to clear out perishable stock within a week if possible, I sent out a note to my 900 customers, explaining my situation and the offer a one week sale on everything. I posted this on Wednesday evening. By the time I arrived Thursday morning, so many orders had poured in that it took three of us until the following Tuesday to catch up. I ended up clearing out about 80% of stock, but most importantly, the "fan mail" and well wishes received from my friends/customers overwhelmed me even more!

Finally, I needed to bring a close to my pastoral work as well. I petitioned the bishop to give me a medical leave of absence until next spring so that I could heal and put things into perspective. We had already begun online service at this point due to C19, so it has been a little easier to remain present, but that will change as my treatment continues.

Bottom line, I was letting go of some major lines of identity. Although my 4 days of time spent with my online retreat seemed like an extravagance with what else I could be doing, it provided a beautiful space for reflecting on the underlying theme of all of this. What was happening?

I never once thought "why me?" Of course, "not again!" came up a bit inside. But honestly, it's just biology. And I decided that I would leave the biology and chemistry to the specialists, and I would work on directing treatment as well from within me.

During the retreat, a number of images came to mind of the coming treatment time. I thought of Jesus driven into the desert for 40 days. I thought of Sannyasa,  a form of asceticism,  marked by renunciation of material desires and prejudices, represented by a state of disinterest and detachment from material life, and has the purpose of spending one's life in peaceful, love-inspired, simple spiritual life. I had a chance few have to let go of things for two months and the opportunity to emerge as anything. I could go back to what I was doing if I wished, or not. 

In a seeming confirmation, I had a vision in meditating where I was on the edge of a cliff, not facing out but looking back. It seemed I was holding on to two trees, and behind me, over the edge, I could hear the gentlest yet affirming voice calling "let go. fall. I'll catch you."

And so the adventure begins.