Tag: cancer

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Opening Day Free First Friday July 6th 7:45-9:45 am PT….and Unexpected Death

Summer Camp for The Mind starts in a week.

But actually, there’s Opening Day this coming Friday July 6th for everyone and anyone. You don’t have to sign up for Summer Camp until the weekend, if you like.

By attending only on Opening Day, you can get a taste of an online inquiry group, or use it as a stand-alone experience of The Work.

In other words, you can attend Friday’s Opening Day from 7:45-9:45 am Pacific Time, and then decide over the weekend if you want to jump on board for all summer through August 17th.

For Opening Day of Summer Camp, head to the Summer Camp webpage and find the direct link right there. Opening Day will be recorded. You can listen later if that works better for you.

Read more details about Summer Camp, or go ahead and sign up, right HERE.

ITW folks: If you’re getting credits in Institute for The Work of Byron Katie, you’ll need to commit to attending 7 sessions live during the summer to make sure you get 10 hours credit. I’ll take attendance.

Speaking of Summer Camp, it’s actually kind of odd and supportive and wonderful and strange for me to get ready for this Summer Camp program.

Because a huge and major transition has just occurred in my life and the lives of my children and extended family: the passing of my first husband, loving father of our two young-adults children (ages 21 and 24). He died early Saturday morning, June 30th.

He had not been considered well for 8 years, tackling cancer, treatments, stem cell transplant, chemo rounds and finally….death.

Sitting with someone I love and know for so long as they navigate through illness and dying, gazing at a familiar face in permanent sleep, feeling the body grow cold, is not new for me.

But this time there was a deep melancholy within and heart-breaking tears, watching the children we had together sob their eyes out. My father also died at the very same age, almost exactly to the day.

My former husband’s sweet and supportive companion of five years, (and they just got married in the hospital), was incredible through the last several years of his journey with cancer. She’s been there for him in a most remarkable way.

Not long ago, when my current husband and I visited her and my former husband bringing pizza, she shook her head “no” when Tom suggested the hardship she’s been through in taking care of him.

“It’s a privilege” she said.

I’m so grateful for being so included in any part of this journey of relating to the man who just died, and all the chapters of being in relationship with him. Any and every heart-breaking part.

If I had been able to see 15 years ago, before divorce, a picture of June 30, 2018….I would have been shocked beyond belief. Stunned.

How do you react when you believe a story of the way it should be….and it doesn’t turn out the way you hoped or planned or expected?

I agonize. I feel sad. I have images of regret, missed conversations, confusion. I have anxiety within. I can’t sleep. I feel ungrounded, shaky. I might feel like I don’t belong. Discouraged.

Who would you be without this very stressful thought that the way it’s gone is horrible, worse than expected? Without the thought that it should be different than it is?

Without the belief, I notice I’m lying here on my soft bed, typing, and I’ve done this 1000 times without worrying about the way the future should go, will go, must go.

Without the thought it should have gone differently….

….I’m able to notice the precious space of this moment here, and that I have no idea of the entire picture or story.

I notice how well I’m doing here now, and how well I’ve done so, so, so often in life without someone being around or without something going as I expected or dreamed.

Without the thought “it shouldn’t be like this” there is no regret. There are tears flowing, and they feel like immense love and gratitude.

Turning the thought around: It should have gone this way. 

As Byron Katie asks: How is it good for you that it went the way it did? How is it good for the other person, or the community? How is it good for the world?

Wow. I know this doesn’t mean I have to love it, or wish for it, or say thumbs-up to it, or vote for it.

I notice, I didn’t get a vote.

Reality went the way it did. Can I find something supportive about that? Can I find the love, the care? Can I be willing to see with more expansive eyes and heart?

It’s not to make something fake sweet and easy, that isn’t.

It’s an invitation to give weight to this other side of duality, the one I often miss when I’m upset or troubled. The side that says “maybe you’ve missed something” rather than assuming what’s happened absolutely shouldn’t have.

I begin to find turnaround examples for it being OK, interesting, beautiful or supportive that it went way it did:

  • I found an internal power of willing-to-do-what-it-takes, after the divorce from this man who has now died, that I never thought was possible when it comes to career, earning, ability to pay my monthly mortgage and not foreclose on my house
  • I learned I can love, even if I rarely see someone, and appreciate sharing their life with me
  • my children and I were laughing and joking as we took a little road trip together yesterday, the day after their dad died. I was amazed and touched by seeing what life looks like when it’s not filled with constant desperate suffering. It looks like people playing the road-trip games we’ve always played. “Those are my cows!”
  • we’ve spent the last three winter holiday seasons doing blended family things which were super fun, loving, joyful and abundant
  • I’m getting to spend many hours with my kids, hear from friends I haven’t heard from in many years, share deep conversations with others who loved my former husband, replay amazing memories
  • A sense of openness to Reality comes alive in this work on death. Isn’t that what I always dreamed of? Feeling friendly about the world, life, reality?
The list goes on. And will keep going on.
Who would I be without my story of endings?

Someone able to write this Grace Note today, and feel very excited about sharing inquiry with other people in the world as we dial in together Friday, and into Summer Camp next week.

Someone who can still imagine summer within, even through tears and a swelling heart.

“Until we know that death is as good as life, and that it always comes at just the right time, we’re going to take on the role of God without the awareness of it, and it’s always going to hurt. Whenever you mentally oppose what is, when you think that you know what should and shouldn’t happen, you’re going to experience sadness and apparent separation. There’s no sadness without an unquestioned story. What is is, because it is. You are it.” ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace

P.S. To find out more about Summer Camp, click the photo here.

Join Summer Camp for The Mind
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Content to stay in the lowest, least creative position….with cancer

This past weekend, I got to attend retreat with a small group (18 total) in a remote cabin on the crazy, wild, wind-hail-swept Washington state coast. It was called “Sit in The Fire” with Roxann, Byron Katie’s daughter.

I loved sitting with Roxann and all the brilliant group. The sweetness of being NOT in the role of “facilitator” was profound.

I was asked many times what I was doing there or why I signed up as a participant. Seven other people present were already either in my current YOI (Year of Inquiry) program or in last year’s YOI program.

But here’s the deal: I am the most normal, regular, boring, average “thinking” person. I have thoughts that are irritated, nosey, judgmental, hilarious, painful. I have thoughts that have brought me to my knees with suffering. I’ve been scared with adrenaline pumping through my veins, and sad and pissed because someone betrayed me, or totally freaked out because I had no money and no job.

I know it’s kind of weird to say, but it means very little that I show up as facilitator in other contexts and environments and groups.

I’m about as shocked as you are that I’m debt-free, thriving in business, normal with eating and the same weight for many years, and so happy (whatever that is–LOL).

None of those things mean I’m not considering the deep inquiries of life that we all face: death, change, the unknown tomorrow, love, wondering, sharing, feeling, peace (or not peace).

In this past 3-day retreat, I got to sit with my ever-deepening inquiry on cancer: The death of my father from cancer, the death of my friends from cancer, the way cancer has touched me, my sisters, my mother, and other close friends.

I found the belief “cancer took my loved one too soon”.

Cancer was the demon, the dreaded invader. The one who ruined everything, threatens regularly, and will surely do it again.

In this particular retreat, the format allowed for people to do The Work one at a time….focusing deeply with all the group silently supporting, listening, watching, and being there to witness whomever was sharing in the middle.

How do you react when you believe cancer took your loved ones too soon, and kicked you personally, too?

I got to be that normal human being who has experienced and believed the thought of cancer bunches of times…and share the reaction to this thought.

It looked like sobbing.

It looked like collapsing into my own lap and hanging my arms down from my chair, and wailing with tears until the grief was emptied out of me like a river.

I’m not even sure what it looked like, to be honest.

I simply WAS grief, helplessness, childlike rage, missing my dad, the loneliness of missing, remembering, agonizing, shaking my fist at a God who would release cancer on my family and into the world. I was the tiny speck in the universe who didn’t matter. I was a victim, without apology.

I felt it until I was empty. (I love how Roxann asked “are you empty?”)

I remembered all the transactional analysis gestalt therapy I did before I knew of The Work. Beating pillows with a tennis racket, punching bags of anger, shrieking and crying, breaking plates, tearing up phone books to release rage, telling my story without shame.

I remembered how amazing Big Feelings are, and how Byron Katie shares that they must have their life.

Feelings are incredible, really. We even have salt water (tears) come flowing out of our eyes. It’s rinsing out the pain somehow, shaking out the body, energy moving.

And then, the magnificent question.

Roxann asked me, softly.

Who (or what) would you be without this cancer story?

As I sat, feeling it, I felt the curiosity, the quizzical weirdness, the surprise, the openness of that question.

Who, what, where would I be?

What if my father died not too soon, but right on time? And my friend? And my other friend? What if my own cancer, and my sisters and mother’s, was just right?

Not “terriblehorriblenogoodverybad”?

Wow.

And to be witnessed in such a wondering. Who knows what can happen, to hold still in the presence of others and silence, exploring who I’d be without a huge story like “cancer”?

There we were, humans gathered in a circle as we have done for thousands of years. Noticing and being together.

It was so loving to be witnessed and facilitated, to facilitate myself internally within, to answer these questions about reality. To see reality clearly.

The Work is like saying “let’s take a look, shall we?” and exploring together, as people who each have incredibly unique perspectives and yet, here on the playing field as the Same.

No Final Answer. No “right” answer.

To even ask who we’d be…..results in peace.

Turning the thought around: Cancer has always come right on time. 

I’ll only be here so long, anyway. Everyone has a limited amount of life, and this situation is temporary. Cancer helps people slow down, say “I love you”, relax, enjoy the present. Cancer causes immediate retirement (like with my dad) and lots of time together with others (I saw my dad daily in my 20s when he was ill, and my friend Carl every other day almost for the entire summer–it’s possible we may have never been closer).

What does it take, to get us connected to true love, to life, to honesty, to being human?

For me, it looks like cancer. And it looks like joining things as a participant who does The Work right in front of everyone.

I’m still finding the examples.

It looks like finding everyone who does The Work in my presence the most amazing, brilliant person, full of such enormous wisdom.

And by the way, I’m so glad and grateful you are with me on this journey of exploring thoughts, painful ideas, having questions, being human. Thank you.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. Living Turnarounds Half-Day on April 22nd 2-6 pm in Seattle has 3 spaces left.

One spot open for commuters to Spring Cleaning Retreat in Seattle at a private gorgeous retreat house in Lake Forest Park neighborhood. AirBnb’s close by if you travel from out of town.

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Sickness: When there’s no hope, you’re free

Those of you who wanted to join the Masterclass: Ten Barriers To Deepening Your Work today at 8 am Pacific Time, you can sign up HERE. Then I’ll send the replay out only to those who want it. Bring your pen and paper.

And as I’m writing this, I’m thinking “Is this going to be OK for tomorrow?”

Because I have a rather severe cold, fever, pounding ears, sore throat. I can’t remember being this sick in ages.

Crazy!

I should NOT be sick.

This is an amazing thought to question. No matter what kind of illness, it often appears.

I shouldn’t have cancer, I shouldn’t experience this ailment. I shouldn’t feel so lousy. I should be able to go outside, eat dinner, run the masterclass webinar.

Sometimes, we can become absolutely terrified with the belief that we shouldn’t be feeling physically sick. Like a huge screaming NO!

Is it true I shouldn’t be sick right now?

Yes. I hate it. This is terrible. I’m trying to work, here, to keep my schedule! (Shake fist at sky).

What kind of images come to mind?

Staying in bed for days and days. Unable to go on. Sometimes, I confess, when I’ve had this thought I imagine being on my death bed. I think about how this body is declining ultimately, and will fade away and die.

I think about my daughter being sick when she was here for 24 hours this past weekend. She brought it into the house!

The mind tries to figure out how to prevent this from ever happening again in the future. I clench up against the physical pain, stare into space as I lie on the bed. Sleep during the day.

But who would I be without this thought I shouldn’t be sick, when I am?

Relaxing into what is, it seems. Letting it be here, like this. Achy, listening to the rain, noticing how more sleep will be good, watching that incredibly…I seem to be writing this Grace Note and I don’t see why not.

Turning this thought around: I should be sick.

This isn’t a slap, or a way to point out what’s wrong with me, or that I deserved it. Never those things.

But why should I be sick, when I am?

I have a human body, that’s why. This body is a host to other organisms, and it’s doing its thing to get rid of something that landed here, apparently. I don’t mind resting. I like it.

I feel very grateful and appreciative for my general good health. I can’t remember the last time I was this sick, it’s been a very long time (years).

Why else should I be sick, when I am?

I listened to music this afternoon sent to me by a friend last week while I was still traveling. It was a meditation, relaxation thing on youtube, very slow and quiet. I got to contemplate the mind, silence, while lying flat in the bed today.

I felt OK this morning, so this has come on very quickly and intensely, and a client I had scheduled for all afternoon cancelled because HE was sick….so far everything’s rolling along as expected, just with sickness accompanying the ride.

I still facilitated the Thursday evening Year of Inquiry call, and could listen, enjoy the inquiry, love everyone there. My work, like the call, is done from home so it doesn’t really matter if I’m sick or not. Until it does.

I’m not sure why else I should be sick, except when I consider this turnaround….I feel a sense of laughter, what-do-I-know, mystery, and readiness to climb into bed again. No choice. I’m not in charge or running this here. It’s a happening.

Turning it around again: My thinking should not be sick. Especially when it comes to sickness. So true. I can work myself into a tizzy about an ailment, or let go.

Another turnaround I notice is that “I” am not actually sick. Not the part of me that’s always here, the steady consciousness that’s been around from before I even knew about it.

“People who know there’s no hope are free; decisions are out of their hands. It has always been that way, but some people have to die bodily to find out. No wonder they smile on their deathbeds. Dying is everything they were looking for in life: they’ve given up the delusion of being in charge. When there’s no choice, there’s no fear. They begin to realize that nothing was ever born but a dream and nothing ever dies but a dream.” ~ Byron Katie

Much love,

Grace

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No mistake….even with physical pain?

Could pain not be a mistake in Reality?
Could pain not be a mistake in Reality?

Sometimes, the Year of Inquiry group is just what I myself need.

Last night, we looked again at the worksheets we wrote on this bodily condition we don’t like (even hate).

Belly too big, fatigue to intense, energy too low, body too skinny, hearing too poor, face too wrinkled, age too old.

I’ve had a thought for days, because of great pain in my hamstring (no idea why it has returned) that there’s something wrong with my body because of the physical pain.

Guess what happens when I believe this thought?

This may sound a bit melodramatic, but it’s what happens.

I picture my own death.

“You only have about 15-25 years left anyway. Maybe now is a good time to say sayonara. Why not….it’s all down hill from here. I’m probably going to have the same back trouble as my mom. Things are not working. This is horrible. I can’t stand it. My body sucks. I will never achieve, succeed, create [fill in the blank] because of the state of this body.”

How amazing to have The Work, and a beautiful group of people who all call in together at the same time to look at these kinds of thoughts.

Is it true, this condition is so awful, and it prevents me from living my life “normally” or from going to the spa and being there naked?

No.

Who would I be without the belief that my body should be different than it is?

Yes, even THAT condition.

I remember having cancer….but yesterday I looked at that damaged hamstring I tore up 3 years ago surely never-to-be-the-same again.

Who would we be without the beliefs in our bodies being “wrong” or “ugly” or unacceptable?

Holy Moly.

Pretty mind-blowing.

Able to find the humor in this, and notice there are no perfect bodies, anywhere….certainly none that remain perfect.

The way of it appears to be decline, damage, decay, a return to silence somehow.

The turnarounds I heard last night almost brought tears to my eyes, they were so moving, so powerful.

Here’s what people in Year of Inquiry found:

  • My thinking is too bloated about all this.
  • My body is beautiful.
  • My energy level is perfect, and allows me to meditate (nothing else is possible)–isn’t meditating what I love?
  • I don’t have to save the world.
  • I AM saving the world, by questioning this very thought about my body.
  • If I can be OK with this imperfection, I might find freedom.
  • This condition is my friend.
  • This condition gives me the opportunity to get out of the business of my body, and hand it over back to God.

To be able to find benefits, and even be willing to be in this body, just this one I have, is not insignificant.

This body I have treated like shit, dismissively, with hatred, with anger, with disgust, with fear.

What if all that’s necessary for absolute freedom is to love this body, now, it whatever condition it is in….unconditionally?

Who knows what kind of power this could bring to the world.

Through this inquiry, I am enlightened to another way to be, to another possibility, another option.

Without “my” thinking my thoughts about what’s wrong with being physical….all is very well indeed. I’ll get to move on eventually, and I’m not in charge. Halleluia.

“Who would you be without the thought that would argue with reality, that would argue with what is? Watch you life, drop your story…look at the difference in your life without that belief. Same life, no tricks, just you not believing that thought. With the thought, stress, busy mind, lost mind, confused mind, suffering. Welcome to reality, the way of it. There is no mistake in the universe. The universe is brilliant. Everything is born on time, and dies on time. When we argue with it, we’re blind to it. Why is it better off that the way it is, is the way of it? What are the advantages? If God is good, why would this happen?” ~ Byron Katie

Hmm. Why should my hamstring hurt so badly today?

It’s giving me a signal to go back to that great body-worker I found. It’s helping me remember I want quiet, relaxation, gentleness and less doing in my life. I’m learning to appreciate aging, and rest. It’s reminding me I could have only this day, and to let go of everything and all plans. I love the state of no “have to” and Doing Nothing. It’s calling me to peace, right here.

Thank you, body. Thank you for your temporary and incredibleness. Thank you for lasting as long as you have so far. Thank you for one more day, and knowing there will be a last day for me at some point, and it will be brilliant.

Much love, Grace

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Stop Your Nightmare With Understanding

A long time ago a beautiful inquirer began to work with me after she had been diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.

At that time, she was one of the first people I worked with on painful thoughts born out of her experience.

I had cancer before myself. Also a rare type, mine was a sarcoma of the interstitial skin on my thigh…with a really weird medical name that I’ve never been able to pronounce.

I remember that moment when I had the most fear.

In the doctor’s office, having the stitches removed, when the doctor said “I’ll just take these stitches out from the biopsy and then you can get dressed and then we’ll talk about the results.”

She’s waiting to talk to me about the results she received from my biopsy?

Adrenaline rush.

The core belief “I’m going to die” and that is really frightening.

Later, when I began to work with people who had cancer, or had previously had it, I thought they’d immediately want to talk about the fear of death, the terror of losing health, deteriorating, feeling physical pain.

But almost everyone who has ever come to talk with me after having cancer (even if they currently have it) has had the very same thoughts that all of us have when we’re healthy.

  • What will people think?
  • Will the people I encounter on this journey be kind?
  • Will my kids, employees, neighbors, friends, partner be OK with this?
  • Did I do something wrong?
  • What will it be like when I die?

The mind seems to be concerned with these questions, and concerned with forgetting about them too. Since there aren’t any clear, known answers….the problem-solving mind really doesn’t like that very much.

But when a diagnosis enters your life, you don’t forget quite as easily. It’s in your face, it has more import somehow.

You look.

It’s an incredible opportunity. You can do this inquiry today no matter what kind of health condition you’re in…since we’re all eventually dying.

So….is it true that people may think poorly of you, or avoid you in life? Is it true that you need people to be kind? Do you have to worry about the people close to you if you leave?

Is it possible you did something wrong? Do you need to know what it will be like when you die?

Apparently not.

If you answered yes to anything, notice this one, and ask yourself if it is absolutely true.

My client long ago had the thought that other people judge her poorly, maybe avoid her, say fake nice things to her. She felt very alone. So painful!

How do you react when you believe the thought that people may think thoughts about you that are frightening or unfavorable? What happens when you worry about those you love and what will happen to them if you go away, or have a problem?

And that gripping thought that you must have done something wrong, yikes!

Who would you be without these thoughts?

Sit very still and feel that question. You can still hear the chatter, but imagine who you’d be without believing it.

Without any thoughts about what will happen in the future, even in two hours, or what other people are thinking that’s mean or frightening…

…you may feel a rest and relaxation that is unlike anything you’ve ever known.

You may notice that for this instant, you are OK. You can handle what’s happening, and something else is ultimately handling it and it’s not really up to you.

“Understand your nightmare for what it is, and it will stop; then you will wake up to reality. Understand your false beliefs and they will drop; then you will know the taste of happiness.” ~ Anthony De Mello

Turning the thoughts around:

  • Whatever people think is absolutely fine
  • Every person I encounter will contribute to my enlightenment
  • My kids, friends, employees, neighbors and partner will be completely OK
  • Did I do something right?
  • What is it like as I live?

What if these were exciting, and just as true, or truer?

“God, as I use the word, is another name for what is. I always know God’s intention: It’s exactly what is in every moment.” ~ Byron Katie

If you’re struggling with inquiry in your life and allowing what is, and would like guidance in doing it…

…I am here for you.

I love facilitating people through their situations, their painful beliefs.

Every person who arrives to do inquiry is a gift on my own path.

This summer, I’m giving ample opportunity to people who would love regular call-in times, open 90 minute sessions for inquiry, at pre-set hours all summer.

I’m calling it Summer Camp because it’s a time to rest in inquiry, relax, let the process unfold as a dance for you, answering the questions, following the un-doing.

I never took the time to really inquire into my own thoughts about life and death until I began to lose things I believed were really scary to lose.

You can start inquiring when things are terrifying, or long before, it doesn’t matter.

Someone just wrote to ask if Summer Camp will be crowded.

It is limited to 20 people per live session, so the answer is “no”. You will get facilitated time, focused attention, and find awesome partners to trade facilitation sessions.

Join fellow inquirers on a journey inward and you may find yourself becoming lighter, lighter, and lighter.

Even about things like cancer or dying.

Much love, Grace

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Welcoming This Ailment As If You Had Invited It

Tomorrow the Pain, Sickness and Death telegroup starts 5:15-6:45 pm Pacific Time. There are still a few spaces! We meet for six weeks.

It’s interesting that this class is starting tomorrow.

Because I’ve had a sore throat and swollen glands and a stuffed up nose. I’m sick!

On this great hierarchy of maladies, it’s the least concerning in most of our minds, right?

I feel the symptoms. My ears hurt a little. I’m not awake at my usual very early morning hour. My voice is off.

But I really don’t know what the actual cause is, specifically, in THIS body. There are simply sensations moving about, changing, aching.

And I have an awareness that the body is making corrections, adjusting, healing, moving something through.

But my mind is not afraid. It’s not thinking “I could die from this”. It’s not thinking “I’ll never recover and live the rest of my life with this pain in my throat”.

It’s not getting all dramatic and going off on tangents trying to find a cure. I don’t feel panic, or sadness.

However, if a doctor or someone I thought of as educated, someone whose opinion I trusted, said “Uh oh. This is a dangerous situation. It’s not just a cold,” I would probably have a jolt of adrenaline run through me.

That’s what happened when I had a little mole biopsied almost seven years ago.

The mole was so small, that this “biopsy” (meaning they take some of the tissue by cutting it off carefully with a very sharp medical knife) practically removed the whole entire mole from my right thigh.

It had been there for about a year. My doctor had said it didn’t look like anything to be alarmed about.

But it grew a little bigger over that year. I kept feeling it all the time, more and more often. This bump in my skin, like the eraser on a small pencil.

The biopsy required four stitches. There was a round ball under the surface of my skin.

My doctor said to come back in a week and she would send the tissue off to a lab so they could analyze it.

The next week, back in the doctor’s office, she came in and said with a smile “let’s get those stitches removed”. I had only had stitches once in my entire life, and that was in 1976 with a broken right ankle after a crazy gymnastics vault landing that required surgery.

I thought about how amazing it was that humans found that the skin is like fabric, and that you can sew it back together.

But then the doctor said “OK, you can put your pants back on and have a seat here, and I’ll be back to talk about the results of the biopsy.”

Oh yeah, the results! Cool!

Wait.

You mean, this is like “results” that have to wait for me to be seated? Not the kind of results that you say while you’re also removing stitches like “everything looks good”.

That doctor hadn’t said any of those light sounding words.

Then it washed through me like a wave crashing.

Damn.

It’s cancer or something. What else grows a “tumor”? It’s cancer. What else requires me to get fully dressed and have a seat?

That all happened within 30 seconds.

She came in. I heard the words “sarcoma” and “….generally see this in people of color”….and “need to go see a surgeon who specializes…”

I couldn’t really hear everything, because my mind was having a heart attack.

That’s one of the moments that was born in my life for The Work, for personal inquiry, for looking at what I was afraid of, that I thought was true.

A few days later, I took out paper, and began writing down my thoughts.

Thoughts about death, treatment, dying, hurting, surgery, the future, the past.

I found out, by doing The Work, that things weren’t as bad as I thought.

Who would I be without the thought that this situation was dangerous, that cancer was life-threatening, that I was doomed?

Not terrified. That’s all I could come up with at first. Not exactly “happy” and welcoming….but NOT TERRIFIED was surprisingly better than terrified.

Who would I be without the thought that cancer was horrifying, the worst that could happen?

On a continuum that carried forward into the unknown. On a mystery ride.

Just like everyone else.

“Loving what is, is not kinda liking what is, or kind of appreciating what is, it’s not accepting what is….it is good. It is really exciting.” ~ Byron Katie

If you want to take an interesting journey into questioning beliefs about sickness, physical ailments, pain that seems to hurt, cancer, death…then come join the telegroup starting tomorrow. Click here to register.

You do not have to have something serious occurring in your life, or be a survivor of some kind of trauma….

….you can simply notice that you have fearful, annoyed, angry, or very painful beliefs about physical threats, conditions, or circumstances.

You notice you are interested in honestly questioning these beliefs about living inside a vulnerable body.

Who knows, whatever ails you may be your spiritual path.

I know it’s been mine.

I’d love you to join me in inquiry, to end the fearful thinking.

“Welcome the present moment as if you had invited it. It is all we ever have, so we night as well work with it rather than struggling against it. We might as well make it our friend and teacher rather than our enemy.” ~ Pema Chodron

Love, Grace

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Have A Body? Lose Control

Only a few more weeks of the early-registration fee of $295 for the Breitenbush retreat focusing on the issues we have with our bodies….more on that in a minute! After May 1st the registration fee goes up to $350. We have an amazing group forming. The retreat is limited to 14. The fee I just mentioned is the tuition…everyone coming phones Breitenbush to reserve your chosen accommodations (tent platform or your own bungalow?) and delicious meals.

Click HERE to read all about it.

What does it mean to do The Work on The Body?

Well….have you ever had a stressful thought about your body? A thought that when you think it, you experience discomfort of any kind?

Spending some time with the stress about having a body like yours can be quite revealing. Thoughts about the body are so critical, agonizing, and painful…and then, we’ll have thoughts about ourselves and how we really shouldn’t HAVE these critical thoughts about our bodies.

First the thought, as I pass the glass window on the street “gosh, your butt looks too big” or “wow, your face really is looking old these days”. Then the thought “I can’t believe you’re not OVER criticizing your looks at your age, you should know not to care”. Then the thought “I need to relax, take care of my superficial thoughts, handle my health better”.

And so on. The cycle of “thinking” in a compulsive way along the lines of things not being good the way they are.

Especially this body. So imperfect and so frail.

Bodies can be the entry point into awakening like no other. With this thing I live in, called a body, I am aware of my need to be attractive to other humans, my desire to be attractive to myself, my frailty, pain, weakness, the smallness or temporariness of being in this body..death and impermanence.

My thoughts about my body are, in fact, thoughts about life and death. They all lead to the most profound, similar place.

For me, the mind can start spewing thoughts so quickly on the body, it’s faster than a speeding bullet!

  • I wish I were twenty years younger again
  • I don’t have enough time (here on the planet)
  • my hip should stop hurting
  • I need to do yoga, stop aging, have zero pain
  • dying is not going to be fun or easy
  • I hate when other people die
  • I hate feeling bad, I never want to get sick again
  • my face shouldn’t have wrinkles, my hair shouldn’t turn gray, my feet shouldn’t hurt

The list goes on. There are cures, too, around every corner. You can start in on all kinds of ways to “solve” the “problem” of having this condition.

And yet, as I inquire over time, even on the dumbest most mundane thoughts about my body, I get such insight and love for this thing that it becomes simple, easy, and not a source of regret or wishful thinking.

I love being exactly in this body, at this time, at this age, with these little feelings and conditions. It’s magnificent…it’s surrender. I see how it does not take changing or altering this body to experience joy, love, acceptance, connection, intimacy and peace.

Doing The Work on the body leads to the grandest, most wonderful questions and awareness that I am not this body, there is much more here….and that for some reason, this whole thing is temporary.

What if your thoughts looked instead for the benefits in your condition? The opposite sort of experiences?

  • I wish I were twenty years older…I’d be closer to that fun moment called death (or croaking) that I’ve heard a zillion things about but will only experience once
  • I have all the time I would ever need on this planet, in this lifetime
  • my hip should keep hurting, it’s a sensation that’s speaking
  • I don’t need to do anything, I need to keep aging (that would be weird to stop aging), I need to have great pain and notice I can learn to relax with it, and that it leaves
  • dying is going to be the easiest thing I’ve ever done…I won’t even be doing it (finally it won’t be up to me, kinda like life if I really think about it)
  • I experience great love when other people die (so far, always true)
  • I’m open to feeling physically bad, I’m open to getting sick again…there are advantages and I can find them
  • my face should have wrinkles, my hair should turn gray, my feet should hurt…I get to have this amazing aging experience in this life (vs die young).

By having this body, as it does exactly what it does, I get to see how nature works in this particular form. I get to respond to this particular body, I get to feel what reality/God/source is offering through this body.

I get to see how much more I am than this body. This mind doing its amazing thing…wondering, exploring, feeling, sensing. Body and mind and beyond all interacting. A great mystery.

The most amazing thing is how free I am, even with this body. Everyone is.

“Now sweetheart, close your eyes, and go to the place where you are very, very ill….Now see if you can locate the place that doesn’t care. The place that really isn’t bothered by it. It’s there. See if you can locate it—the part of you that is unaffected. The part of you that just watches. Go back to the last time you were in so much pain and see if you can locate it……Go back with it again. It’s a part—no matter how much pain you’re in—it’s witnessing, watching…..Good. That’s the one that cares nothing for control. So let that one grow. It cares nothing for control.”~Byron Katie 

Inquiring into your thoughts about your body, you may find very quickly that you are inquiring about what it means to be alive, and to know you will die.

For me, this is spiritual awakening. Surrender, gratitude…the freedom of not caring.

Do The Work on your body and have a glorious time caring nothing for what everyone else thinks, what you think. (Join us at Breitenbush).

“If you want to become whole, let yourself be partial. If you want to become straight, let yourself be crooked. If you want to become full, let yourself be empty. If you want to be reborn, let yourself die. If you want to be given everything, give everything up.”~Tao Te Ching #22

Love, Grace

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Illness As A Teacher

There is a saying which goes “there may be a gift in the wound“.

This is helpful for looking at what we see as a wound, and finding something useful about it…anything, even the smallest tiniest thing. When we can do this, we have to admit that nothing is 100% tragedy.

I have spent some time today, in response to a wonderful inquirer who asked me to do this exercise with her, to find something genuine and authentically useful about our injuries.

My knee was hurt last fall, and operated on in March. What could be good about that?

  • Several friends did internet research for me, I learned all about knee joints
  • I got to experience a truly amazing high-tech operating room
  • there were about 10 people, literally, present to help during my 20 minute procedure who all introduced themselves to me and shook my hand
  • my soon-to-be husband was not worried in the least, available, and seemed to love being of service–driving me there and back, taking care of necessities
  • it was very still and quiet in my house, lying flat on my back for a day or two
  • I feel more tender, gentle and accepting of my legs—most of the time
  • I realize how much fun I can have dancing without squatting or bending the knee far

Stephen and Ondrea Levine have studied and assisted people with dying for their entire careers, writing books on dying and meditation and mindfulness.

Stephen says, to paraphrase, that illness may be a shamanic apprenticeship….in other words, there may be a gift in illness. He is clear to say that he would not wish illness on anyone, but he would wish for people that any illness they get would be a teaching.

I had a cancer tumor on my leg. Cancer appears to run rampant in my family.

I do know one very profound gift that seems to pop into my mind about this situation. That is, my life is short and sort of doesn’t matter. I know that may sound weird. But it doesn’t matter in a good way.

“When you are ill or disabled, do not feel that you have failed in some way, do not feel guilty. Do not blame life for treating you unfairly, but do not blame yourself either. All that is resistance….Whenever any kind of disaster strikes, or something goes seriously “wrong” – illness, disability, loss of home or fortune or of a socially defined identity, breakup of a close relationship, death or suffering of a loved one, or your own impending death – know that there is another side to it, that you are just one step away from something incredible: a complete alchemical transmutation of the base metal of pain and suffering into gold. That one step is called surrender.”~Eckhart Tolle 
Surrender does not mean, I might add, to lie down on the floor and do nothing. I used to think that’s what it meant a lot of the time. No.

It means I am here with this moment as it is, I do not fight against this situation, this experience. Here I am with an imperfect knee, a hurting hip, a history of cancer, skin that looks older and has wrinkles, hair going gray at the temples.

Here I am with a mind that thinks “I don’t have much time left” or “Well, that was fun (my life)” or “it’s all down hill from here” or “I did nothing of use to the planet”.

I have to chuckle…I can’t believe any of this anymore. If you inquire, you’ll find you can’t believe it either.

What I do see is that when some part of me is complaining…thinking about how something should be other than it is (like my knee) then I’m directing a lot of warring thoughts to the situation.

It’s like I’m shaking my fist at the Universe and shouting “What gives?! Explain!! I hate this! So annoying!”

But allowing everything to be the way it is, not fighting against it, brings peace into this present place, right now. Just a big question mark. Not worry, anger, despair.

“Where I live is ‘what do I know about what is best for me?’ If I have cancer, that’s fine with me and if I don’t have cancer, that’s fine with me”.~Byron Katie

I watched Katie do this work with a man a few years ago, who had cancer growing, and actually found reasons for why this was a good thing.

Amazing world, amazing universe. Thank you illness and injury for bringing it on.
Love, Grace

Byron Katie: I want the cancer to stop growing.
Byron Katie: I want the cancer to stop growing.