The News
No word has such power, such toxicity, such association with loss and death as “cancer.” This is despite the fact that many people survive or live with cancer today, as I have for more than the past decade with prostate cancer. While it is my experience, cancer is not a blessing I would wish upon anyone.
Hearing that my prostate needed to be removed neither surprised nor depressed me. I considered myself blessed that it was dormant for so long, that it could safely and successfully be removed, with certain discomfort, but without painful follow-up treatments– more an inconvenience than an affliction. My blessings include good insurance and confidence in my surgeon.
Melanoma, the “creepy” cancer, can go anywhere and sometimes quickly. It suddenly appeared on my shoulder, grew and then oozed. When I went to have it removed I learned that I needed surgery to get it all and to do some mapping with my lymph nodes. Unlike prostate cancer, the sound of lymph nodes had shock value for me. What made it worse was the not-knowing and the waiting on test results. I have always had a special place in my prayers for people waiting on test results that could change their lives. Now I was one of them.
The Mind and Heart
A psycho-spiritual shift follows. I find myself in a place/space that my mind and heart hadn’t been to in a long time, if ever. The one blessing of suffering is that it keeps one in the present moment. Future plans are suspended; the past doesn’t matter. Since my suffering of not-knowing had no physical pain, the present moment had a feeling of hollowness. Those who have suffered from depression know that strange state of no-affect, feeling empty without feeling pain and the malaise that renders one unable to fully engage in any work or activity.
My experiences always lead me to prayer, and my prayer always starts with my experience. The “news” or new experience drive me to my spiritual tool box. I am served by Richard Rohr’s observation that only love and suffering free our egos, and enable us to surrender to the divine power within. I experience this, rather than entertain it as an idea.
I adopt Cynthia Bourgeault’s practice of welcoming, whereby I fully embrace what ails me in its full emotional force. My ego would have me run from it with distractions, deny it, or, worse, have me believe I can control or fix it. My soul knows better. I need to first lament — spiritually sing the blues! Then I embrace it as a visitor, something that comes to me, something I did not create, something that is not me. I can let it go from my soul, even if it remains in my body. It then has now power over who I am. I repeat this practice in the following mornings and evenings. Gradually I can honestly, not piously, say that I have no fear, and have the confidence (con–fide = with faith) that I will be alright– whatever happens. Fully accepting the present moment conquers the fear of any future moment.
My cancer blesses me with a deeper experience of the power of authentic prayer through a practice of the mind/heart. My prayer is never fervent wishing or magical thinking, nor a plea to a “supreme being” apart from me. Prayer engages me with what is most real in my life, not what others or my ego may want me to believe. Prayer connects me with the divine within, with a God who knows and suffers with me, and who gives me the grace to hope, endure, and find love all about me.
The Blessing
Sharing this news discreetly with others results in an outpouring of love and active concern that overshadows my initial shock and experience of hollowness. Prayer heightens my awareness of how much I mean to others, an awareness that only my suffering could bring. At times, these messages of care from family, friends, fellow clergy, my bishop and parish leaders are overwhelming.
This anguish opens my heart not only to accept love, but to recognize it where it has always been for me. Suffering enables my heart to easily distinguish love and empathy from pity and sympathy.
This discomfort also moves me to a deeper solidarity with others whose experiences are worse than mine – longer wait times, more tests, painful symptoms and treatments.
The Cycle
After dividing my writing into sections I realize that my experiences are an ongoing cycle and process. This cycle occurred chronologically over weeks, but there are times when it occurs in the same day. There ‘s the “news” — disorder, question of treatment, disappointing outcomes, frailty. My heart/mind then moves me through authentic prayer from anxiety, fear and depression to acceptance, confidence, and empowerment. The stretching of my heart brings an awareness of more blessings, and consequent gratitude.
The latest news brings temporary relief: no further spread to my lymph nodes, but a 50/50 chance of its return. Without risk, I can forego treatment and have scans every three months. I can safely proceed with my prostate surgery. I remain in a cycle of testing, waiting, hearing the latest, tending to my heart/mind in prayer, counting my blessings, and stretching my heart in gratitude and solidarity.
Cancer, my unwelcome visitor, need not define me nor wrap me in fear, but indeed is a blessing in disguise.