Colon cancer diaries VI: Guiding light


I followed my guiding light even though I was not able to see it at times. I underwent surgery, maybe the most feared one in my whole life. I trusted my doctors, I trusted life. I trusted once again my army of...

Brothers, nephews, sisters, nieces,

compañeros, friends and girlfriends,

so many that he neglects them

but adores each one of them".

(These verses are part of the post "Miracles" in this blog).

I had asked them to pray, sing, dance, make a toast or joke around, do science or whatever it was that they did that helped them feel good and accompany me as they were. All these manifestations are in fact the language of love as love encompasses it all. Some of them actually gathered online the night before my surgery in a meditation online dedicated to my well-being, galvanized by the energy of two of my angels, friends on this planet, KT and Tanaz. I found myself bathed in love.

I swear that the strength that this Love gave me, or call it just social support, was tangible in my skin and I was able to fully surrender and go into the operating room and even have sweet dreams. I may have dreamt about our last day in Menorca, in Far de punta Nati.

The day had started as another beautiful sunny day, but with me being a foul mood in the car for no reason... getting irritated with tiny unimportant things like slow traffic. It must have been the heaviness in my pelvic area. Then one of my favorite songs played in the radio, "I'm yours", by Jason Mraz and my mood shifted. We arrived at the Lighthouse and walked among rocks towards the cliff.

"Sit there, it is quartz, it will absorb all impurities in your body" Elva yelled to me. A little skeptical but also easily influenced, trusting as I trust my sister after 48 years, who I know would never do anything to harm me, I sat on a large quartz plate on the ground, between two rocks of the same material, in a place that seemed like a throne once of a sudden. I had a view of the cliff where the waves crashed.

I heard and felt. At this point in my life I already know that the head can help or contaminate any given experience so I allowed it to be present without intervening, without analyzing too much. I felt the soft touch of the rock and the overwhelming sound of the ocean. I felt, I imagined, a strength that came from the earth to my bare feet with the intensity of red; it illuminated my belly in yellow; soothed my stomach and the base of my back in orange; it became green when it reached my chest and my arms, purple in my throat and ears, and blue in my head; and it united me in humility with the infinite indigo space beyond myself from which red came again to support me.

I felt, I imagined, other things, other lives, other beings. I felt things that I neither understand nor can describe. An experience of ecstasy perhaps, of euphoria, even more, of all emotions and all experiences, possibilities and paths. I felt safe without knowing anything, protected, loved without questioning anything. I cried while smiling, I sang in silence and fell silent in the music that surrounded me. It's true. It's true. "Share this message. Your life is great, your experience is beautiful. You do not have to value it or explain it to yourself ... You are, and with you, other past lives, other moments in time, present like this moment. You are all those things and you are one. With the rock, with the waves, with the sky, with the sun ". I got up from there not wanting to say anything, filled by all those sensations. It seemed that this place had been waiting for us. I felt privileged and humble, full of love, forgiveness and joy, the epicenter of everything, but no more or less important than anything. I hugged Elva while we both cried. I said "thank you".

Surgery went well. The insidious blockage and pain caused by that tumor on the scar of the previous surgeries is now gone. The confirmation that there were no tumors in the liver also paints a brighter easier future. The encapsulated tumor is still in my left lung... together with the white stain in my brain. But nobody is perfect. I didn't say this story was perfect but it is pretty darned good. The journey goes on but this particular story is about to conclude. As I write this I'm coming out of three very difficult days, as painful as many other days in the past, but feeling very different because I know where the pain comes from: the scar from the recent surgery. I understand everything better and I see clearly how things are improving. It also seems that I've become a little better at circulating back and forth from Hell with less of a blockage.

In a way, isn't all this experience a wonderful reminder for all of us to stay present and loving? This is the only thing we can do when everything falls apart. I've said in the past that sometimes I feel I already have it all although I don't always see it. I used to wonder how this could apply to those who are way less fortunate than I am but I think I get it now... the real fortune is the work of love, a work in progress, accessible to all... despite pain and with pain... despite horrible circumstances or cancer. The best news is that I have been able to endure that. If I have really become better at doing so with the help of others, anybody can. I am certainly not smarter, not braver, not more special than anyone else, just unique and extraordinary like everybody else, with room for improvement.

Perhaps my very personal task in all this is to talk about it, to share it all, and I choose to own this task. The meaning of my name, Samuel, in Hebrew is "(God has) heard". I do rarely use the word God because it is not universal but I prefer to speak about Love, which we all understand. This Love includes you, reader, and I do feel heard by you. I can also use your feedback whenever you are willing to share it with me. Also, please help me not forget these lessons, or to be consumed as often by my own circumstances. Help me leave the door open to Love. Circumstances pass, love won't pass. This Love, built necessarily with others, is our true Heaven on Earth.

This is a poem about my recent battle with cancer that I sent to some friends before they took me to the operating room:

How much beauty in this "battle", but perhaps no longer so.

How could flowers and stars go to fight an endless war?

Stars, however, with their light, scare the shadows.

And the flowers with their scent, a spell they cast.

There's no darkness if there's light, no stench if nice aroma.

Let's surrender with no fight, conquer all and win this war.

War of love, best of all, with an army made of fairies,

mighty flowers and stars.

Photo: Far de Favàritx, Menorca