Cancer. The guts of life.

It’s a funny thing when a loved one gets diagnosed with cancer. Well, not funny, but it’s a rather strange experience.

There’s a lot of waiting.

A lot of uncertainty.

A lot of phone calls.

And a heap of fear. 

I saw Gabby Bernstein speak a few weekends ago. In the audience there was a woman who had been diagnosed with cancer and was in the process of waiting for the prognosis. How bad was it going to be? She mentioned that for years, like 40 of them, she’d been on the self help, self love, Universe bandwagon.

And she said, that despite all her understandings, her faith, her way in life – she was riddled with fear. 

Gabby responded by asking ‘what percentage is your fear right now?’ 

She replied. ’60%.’

Gabby then went on to say, ‘what if we were to get it down to 40%, 20%,15%?’

***

We’re always going to have fear. And something like cancer has a wonderful way of bringing all intense fears to the surface. It’s the management of this fear that sees us through though. It’s managing the fear so it sits around that 15% more often than not. This applies to all of life, not just cancer. 

My dad was diagnosed with bladder cancer just before Christmas. As his guardian angels would have it (for which he has plenty, this man I tell you, death does its best to creep on in, to which he refuses its call) the cancer has been localised. Hasn’t spread. As far as cancer goes, it’s not the worst case scenario. An organ removal and a bit of chemo will keep him with us. (Gratitude Universe).

But this whole experience has brought up so much for me.

Vulnerability + Faith.

When I was in Europe last year I asked the Universe ‘Keep my heart open, I’m ok to experience vulnerability’. I was asking with the intention of manifesting a relationship. It’s been a while and it will come as no surprise that vulnerability is exactly what I had been avoiding.

And so to experience one of the most intense vulnerabilities – a parent suffering and potential death, it triggers in the deepest of ways. To which I am grateful. It has pushed me to reach out. To sit with the rawness. To cry. To say I’m not ok. To notice my responses to my parents vulnerability. To call on the Universe for guidance, for comfort, for perspective. To allow myself to feel what I need to feel. It’s been intense. But in a strange way, it’s cut through years of layers which something like this only could. 

Which brings me to faith. None of what I’ve described above could have happened without it.

Uncertainty kills us (no pun intended). And it’s in times like these we dig deep, we call on our faith, cause at the end of the day, it’s all we have really. Right?

I picked up a great prayer at Gabby’s workshop which I’ve told nearly every person I’ve come in contact with since ‘Thank you inner guide, I surrender this to you, reorganise my thoughts and bring me inner peace’. 

I return to this prayer when my anxieties start to get the better of me. It reconnects me with my faith, helps me to surrender to the vulnerability and ultimately let go – for a bit anyway.

Life means we are constantly stepping in and out of fear and love. These are the two dominant emotions. The rest we experience are just shades of each.

Vulnerability often comes up in sessions for clients. Of course it does – no one wants to go near vulnerability, which is why it comes up. Vulnerability often presents itself as weak and annoying and exhausting. But that’s only when we don’t embrace it. 

The resistance of vulnerability means we stay in the fear longer. I’m sure you’ve heard ‘what you resist persists’. Surrender to the fear. Surrender to the vulnerability, welcome it. Call on your angels, say that prayer I mentioned above, talk to the Universe. Remind yourself that it has your back – no matter how shitty the situation. And allow yourself to be supported. 

Is there somewhere in your life you need to welcome the vulnerability? Is there somewhere you need to admit ‘I’m not ok right now?’. Can you ask for help? Can you let yourself be helped?

Vulnerability + Faith, it’s the guts of life.

On an end note – to the nurses and doctors and surgeons. Thank you for answering the call to serve. Thank you for studying and passing exams. Thank you for showing up and caring. I couldn’t do what you do. The deepest of gratitude.