Gratitude
A dear friend of mine, Nina Lesowitz, is putting together a book on the subject of Gratitude. She invited me to write a few words, and after doing so, realized that it was a logical summary of the series of journal entries I had logged after my brain tumor diagnosis of six years ago. I've decided to share it with you here:
The neurologist met my eyes with a neutral gaze, betraying no emotions, as she told me I had six months to live, and it was time to get my affairs in order. I had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor.
“What are the chances of my making a full recovery?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t think in terms of a full recovery,” she replied, and at that moment, the rest of my life began.
That was more than six years ago. Since my return to health, I feel that I have been living in a state of grace, having been given the gift of a second chance at life.
After my diagnosis, I remember feeling an unexpected calm, accepting my fate without fear, anger or resentment. As I contemplated the end of life as I knew it, I found enjoyment in things I formerly took for granted…a soak in the pool on a warm day, a walk in nearby China Camp Park…and began to feel a profound gratitude for each new day that I had the privilege to experience. I underwent surgery, radiation and chemotherapy, and dedicated myself to finding out as much as I could about my condition and my options for treatment. Friends and relatives sent healing energy and set up prayer circles.
After surgery and each course of treatment, the frequency of seizures would decrease, only to gradually increase as the tumor returned. By this time I had also brought some alternative therapies into my treatment, but my condition failed to improve. I decided to fulfill a lifelong dream to record a CD of original songs, and a wonderful friend, Joe Paulino, donated his recording studio, engineering and drumming talents, and brought together a circle of musician friends who rallied around me and made it happen. I will forever be indebted to their generosity…they gave me something to be grateful for at a time that offered scant encouragement otherwise.
Then I was referred to a local Chi Gung healer named Donald Rubbo. The first time I worked with him, I experienced a seizure, which he felt was a positive sign that the practice was addressing the source of them. He taught me a daily meditation and movement practice, and arranged to have a monastery in Tibet chant for my well-being. On the day of the chanting, I was instructed to keep my mind free of negative thoughts, and I kept myself in a positive place for the entire day. As I fell asleep that night, I felt a pleasurable tingling sensation engulf my whole body.
At this point, I had been having seizures almost daily. For five days after the chanting, I was seizure-free, and I felt my energy level increasing. I was especially grateful to be able to celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary nine months after my diagnosis. I began to take long walks, and soon was able to return to running. A special cancer-screening blood test indicated that my body was successfully fighting off the tumor, and an MRI revealed that the tumor was shrinking. I continued working with Rubbo and my condition steadily improved as my seizures became less frequent. My dog, which had been given four months to live due to bone cancer in her jaw, began to accompany me in my practice and she began to improve as well. My feelings of gratitude began to change from appreciating the time I had left to appreciating my return to health, and I seemed to have thousands of people to thank for my good fortune, especially my wife, Ellen, whose unwavering love and support guided my passage.
After six months without a seizure, I was again able to drive, and felt a surge of gratitude for something I had always taken for granted. The next scheduled MRI confirmed that the tumor had stabilized and the seizures that accompanied it were now a thing of the past. Not only was I living on borrowed time, I was fortunate to enjoy the quality of life I had before my diagnosis, except that the enjoyment went far deeper than before. I had been given back my life with the added gifts of gratitude and perspective.
In the ensuing five years, I am grateful for so many things I might not have had the chance to experience…participating in marathons for the National Brain Tumor Foundation, five more years with our beloved dog, my children’s graduations and a 30th anniversary spent in Africa…and for the smallest of things. I look for ways to express my gratitude, from performing benefit shows for Bread and Roses to meditating on Tibetan chants that seek to alleviate suffering in the world. I will often give my prayer wheel a few spins as I think about someone challenged by their health. Every breath, every moment is like a tiny gift, and I try to honor those gifts by never forgetting how fortunate and grateful I am to be alive, and to realize how precious a gift life really is.
A dear friend of mine, Nina Lesowitz, is putting together a book on the subject of Gratitude. She invited me to write a few words, and after doing so, realized that it was a logical summary of the series of journal entries I had logged after my brain tumor diagnosis of six years ago. I've decided to share it with you here:
The neurologist met my eyes with a neutral gaze, betraying no emotions, as she told me I had six months to live, and it was time to get my affairs in order. I had been diagnosed with a malignant brain tumor.
“What are the chances of my making a full recovery?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t think in terms of a full recovery,” she replied, and at that moment, the rest of my life began.
That was more than six years ago. Since my return to health, I feel that I have been living in a state of grace, having been given the gift of a second chance at life.
After my diagnosis, I remember feeling an unexpected calm, accepting my fate without fear, anger or resentment. As I contemplated the end of life as I knew it, I found enjoyment in things I formerly took for granted…a soak in the pool on a warm day, a walk in nearby China Camp Park…and began to feel a profound gratitude for each new day that I had the privilege to experience. I underwent surgery, radiation and chemotherapy, and dedicated myself to finding out as much as I could about my condition and my options for treatment. Friends and relatives sent healing energy and set up prayer circles.
After surgery and each course of treatment, the frequency of seizures would decrease, only to gradually increase as the tumor returned. By this time I had also brought some alternative therapies into my treatment, but my condition failed to improve. I decided to fulfill a lifelong dream to record a CD of original songs, and a wonderful friend, Joe Paulino, donated his recording studio, engineering and drumming talents, and brought together a circle of musician friends who rallied around me and made it happen. I will forever be indebted to their generosity…they gave me something to be grateful for at a time that offered scant encouragement otherwise.
Then I was referred to a local Chi Gung healer named Donald Rubbo. The first time I worked with him, I experienced a seizure, which he felt was a positive sign that the practice was addressing the source of them. He taught me a daily meditation and movement practice, and arranged to have a monastery in Tibet chant for my well-being. On the day of the chanting, I was instructed to keep my mind free of negative thoughts, and I kept myself in a positive place for the entire day. As I fell asleep that night, I felt a pleasurable tingling sensation engulf my whole body.
At this point, I had been having seizures almost daily. For five days after the chanting, I was seizure-free, and I felt my energy level increasing. I was especially grateful to be able to celebrate my 25th wedding anniversary nine months after my diagnosis. I began to take long walks, and soon was able to return to running. A special cancer-screening blood test indicated that my body was successfully fighting off the tumor, and an MRI revealed that the tumor was shrinking. I continued working with Rubbo and my condition steadily improved as my seizures became less frequent. My dog, which had been given four months to live due to bone cancer in her jaw, began to accompany me in my practice and she began to improve as well. My feelings of gratitude began to change from appreciating the time I had left to appreciating my return to health, and I seemed to have thousands of people to thank for my good fortune, especially my wife, Ellen, whose unwavering love and support guided my passage.
After six months without a seizure, I was again able to drive, and felt a surge of gratitude for something I had always taken for granted. The next scheduled MRI confirmed that the tumor had stabilized and the seizures that accompanied it were now a thing of the past. Not only was I living on borrowed time, I was fortunate to enjoy the quality of life I had before my diagnosis, except that the enjoyment went far deeper than before. I had been given back my life with the added gifts of gratitude and perspective.
In the ensuing five years, I am grateful for so many things I might not have had the chance to experience…participating in marathons for the National Brain Tumor Foundation, five more years with our beloved dog, my children’s graduations and a 30th anniversary spent in Africa…and for the smallest of things. I look for ways to express my gratitude, from performing benefit shows for Bread and Roses to meditating on Tibetan chants that seek to alleviate suffering in the world. I will often give my prayer wheel a few spins as I think about someone challenged by their health. Every breath, every moment is like a tiny gift, and I try to honor those gifts by never forgetting how fortunate and grateful I am to be alive, and to realize how precious a gift life really is.
posted by dan reich at
12:49 PM
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