In Darkness, light......
Finding out my daughter had cancer, was a like a slow descent down a stairwell that just kept getting darker and quieter. The farther down you go, all you can see is blackness and you’re straining to find the light. External noise is hushed and all you can
hear are your own thoughts now magnified and beating against the inside of your head. Strangely, it’s a stairwell only made for one. The darkness in that stairwell is customized for you because you create it. Your strongest rock can’t walk down with you, because they have their own stairwell. Their levels might not be your levels-they seldom are.
For me, “cancer” was the ultimate terror, even long before it activated in my child. Irrationally, it haunted me for years. The “worst case scenario”. I know now that “cancer” as stigmatized in our society, was a huge culprit in the horror for me. Without reason, about nine months before she was diagnosed, five months before there was even a hint of a problem, I started researching cannabinoids and CBD for cancer treatment, as a “just in case” kind of preparation. At the end of the same year, she started losing weight, itching and her left neck lymph nodes started to swell. And there we were. CBD became a huge staple in her immunity regimen during treatment-but that’s another chapter to this story.
After four months of doctor’s not entirely taking her seriously because her blood tests showed nothing wrong, she was finally diagnosed on Valentine’s Day, 2018. By then, months of diagnostics acted like a strange gift of time-time for me to prepare myself mentally and emotionally to continue walking down the proverbial stairs. In the beginning of it all, “cancer” was the horror, but by the time of diagnosis, we were thanking our lucky stars for the best diagnosis possible: Hodgkin’s Lymphoma (rather than non-Hodgkin’s), classical type (the easiest to treat), suspected stage 2 (cancer in two places but in the second place, just a tiny speck of light was picked up in the PET scan). Getting that “good” news, was like a tiny flame in my hand in the blackness. Strange how you can be walking like a petrified child down in the dark and grateful at the same time. Little puffs of light…
But one afternoon before chemo started, I was alone in the house (which I often was), and I was so angry, fearful and confused. I went into a sobbing, hysterical rage. I started screaming at the wall. I was babbling all this raw, angry stuff at the top of my lungs. Whatever came up.
I was raging at God-or whatever. I was undone. I was sobbing so hard I could barely breathe. My face felt like it was going to explode. I was screaming so loud and with so much force my throat was burning, and I was going hoarse. This kid was the kindest human being on Earth. She never broke a rule, always thought of other people before herself. She was mature and sweet, but melancholy and always close to it all but never quite there. She was always resting the weight of the world on her shoulders. As a baby her grandmother described her as “pensive”. She was not the bubbly, lighthearted teenager of Instagram and Snapchat bliss. She had always been an “old soul” and enjoying the lightness of being young was never hers to fully grasp-and now she was given this.
The unfairness of it all was torture for me, as her mother. Although there isn’t a single child of any other temperament, I would wish it on-I think all mothers bemoan “Why them???!!” in their tremendous grief.
I remember I kept thinking about my cousin, in her late twenties, who had been a heroin addict for over ten years. In and out of rehab, constantly posting on Instagram her “fuck life” attitude and throwing her willful addiction in everyone’s face. She clearly didn’t seem to want to live. She clearly didn’t care about herself or her health. So how is it that she can shoot herself with poison in every possible part of her body, be homeless and live in the streets, steal, turn tricks and want to throw her life away and….and not have cancer and my daughter does? It may sound heartless now, but those thoughts do sit squarely in your view, and you have a right to ask it. It’s a human thing.
I was so angry with no target-and that was driving me a little wild. In that moment, all my personal history and struggle and her personal history and struggle intertwined with her physical reality and united it all with one theme: nothing has been easy for the two of us both together and separately for the last 21 years…and now this. Why is this happening?!
But then this incredible thing happened. While raging, I screamed “I’M. SO. ANNNNNNGRRRRYYYYYY!” The veins in my neck so strained I was pretty sure I was going to bust something. As soon as that left my mouth, a strange, warm calm came over me. It seemed to drop down like a subtle, wide, blanket from above my head down to my shoulders. I just stopped.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the wall. Kind of heaving and breathing, catching my breath and sniffling for a few seconds, like a child trying to calm down and then, everything just stopped. Like in nature, when a summer windstorm sweeps across the earth and then just abruptly, everything is still. Just like that-it was over.
I said in my mind: “This cancer thing is so unfair, that’s why I’m so mad.”
And immediately, a voice definitely not my own answered inside my mind, without missing a beat: “Why do you think it’s unfair? That implies you have no control over the outcome!”
Here’s what it was: It wasn’t audible really. It was just…. there. The feeling was a bit challenging, kindly admonishing me while informing me of a truth that I should have been able to see on my own. I can promise you, in that moment, I was not thinking anything along these lines-it was pure pain and helplessness. Although the second part was more of a statement, it felt like a giant question mark was hanging in front of my heart.
I was left with the shocking awareness that responding the way I was, was entirely a choice. It isn’t fair or unfair or anything else for that matter-it just was and what it was could be worked with, could be influenced. “Cancer” is not a demon, it’s just a state and when we engage our energy and our mind and decide how we will engage, we influence the outcome. When we choose to engage in a slow, terrified descent down a black stairwell, it appears that we have no control-and because we believe it, it becomes a reality.
I’m not even exaggerating when I tell you that moment flipped the script on the whole thing. I had been receiving “messages” in that manner through auto writing for years prior to that moment, but never had I experienced such a tangible, undeniable communicative intervention like that. In my darkest hour, in a moment of genuine possession of fear and grief, I was told what to do. Also, it was that day that I stopped saying the word “cancer”. When posting on social media for light and prayer, I stopped writing it as cancer and instead referred to it as “cancer”. I just knew-and still do-that what it appears to be, isn’t quite what “it” is.
What I needed to do, was see the many ways of “influencing the outcome”. Healing is a divine, energetic job and it is not just physical. The “experience” was being had. That means, you must choose to engage in ways that create a high frequency-and the tests will be constant. Once you know that your direct focus keeps you engaged in the outcome, you win. Conversely, once you “know” (which is not truth, actually) that you have no control, you lose.
I wasn’t always rock solid after that. I still waivered. I still hung on with my teeth and my fingernails, most of the time at first. But after a few weeks of treatment, peace settled in. We had engaged-we made choices both physically and spiritually to engage in the highest frequency possible. It was working. It worked.
You are divine consciousness. You are partnered with the energy of All That Is-the divine creator. Because you are part of it, made of it, you are it.
Engage and stay high, my friends.