Wednesday, 28 October 2015

The Shift

The reality of living with cancer, is that my feelings toward it are different from one day to the next. While it's true that I wouldn't change my life-giving diagnosis, it's also the case that some days are tough. In these moments there's a gnawing fear that something is growing, insidious and unseen, beyond my control but within my body. It manifests as a darkness and is overwhelming. This is when meditation comes into its own. Breathing brings me back to peace. There's a deep reassurance in reclaiming just an element of control whilst releasing all control! Of knowing that I'm doing my best, and that my best is good enough. Meditation has brought me an understanding that I'm here purely to experience, to play. We humans are powerful beings and whatever the outcome of disease, living in the moment is the key to absolute happiness. 

I've always believed that cancer could be shifted in a matter of hours, or even minutes, if the mindset, no, the whole environment, was right. I've sensed that I was tantalisingly close to that place, and yet I held on to cancer, enjoying the ride, loving how much I was learning from it. 

And now something beautiful is happening. After almost 6 years of living with a degree of fear and uncertainty, something is changing. I am well. I feel well. I have no symptoms of cancer, and despite my incessant detective work, peering into the microscopic realms of my body, I find that the more I know, the less I really know. I'm starting to trust in something greater. 

Faith. What a companion. It makes everything so much simpler because with faith comes a heightened sense of guidance and intuition. I feel tuned in to a bigger voice, my inner voice. Cancer has brought me here and I am grateful.

Wednesday, 7 October 2015


For a long time we've put off travelling. We've postponed it because we spend all of our available money on my health. On organic food, supplements, doctors appointments, scans, tests and treatments. After my last disappointing test result in February we decided to stop procrastinating and get on with living. I am, after all, alive!

And so, we've just spent the last month in Australia, catching up with family and old friends, revisiting places that I loved when I lived there in my twenties, soaking up the sun and immersing ourselves in glorious nature. 

There's been something incredibly healing about this trip. When I was first diagnosed, I spent a lot of time visualising myself on Bondi beach, arms around the shoulders of slightly-more-grown children. Do we manifest our reality because that's where we put our energy, or do we move towards a future which we are able to visualise purely because it's our destiny? Either way, I've spent the past month feeling very blessed, very present, and very healthy. 

I packed the most basic supplements: magnesium, DIM, calcium d-glucarate, iodine, colostrum, probiotics, krill, frankincense and IP6, alongside my trusty enema bag. I ate fantastically well thanks to a burgeoning health scene - chia pudding and a protein ball at the airport? No problem! Vegan? Gluten free? Easy. Every apartment we rented had a blender, and every cafe had a green juice or smoothie on the menu. 

I meditated on ocean-washed rocks and remote palm-fringed beaches, went for massages and practiced yoga under paperbark gum trees. I rode a bike, walked, ran, kayaked, swam and snorkelled. I watched the sun rise and contemplated my beautiful life.

During one particularly potent meditation came the words "cancer is fear", and I knew this to be true. I know that I carry fear like a shadow. But not on this holiday. A month away from fear must surely be the most powerful form of healing.

I felt fully guided throughout the entire trip. Everything felt easy. On our last day in Sydney I woke early to watch the sun rise. A photographer sitting behind me captured my moment and sent me the picture. It felt like the perfect confirmation of being in exactly the right place at the right time.