Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Just Another Wonderful Day on Planet Earth

My blog entries are now few and far between - my "medical adventure" is no longer the primary focus of my life. What a wonderful threshold to cross! Now my focus is getting back to "what is mine to do while I am here." There's a beautiful song by John Astin, "Why have you come to Earth? Do you remember? Why have you taken birth? Why have you come? To Love, Serve, and Remember." http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=41wffU0GN-c. I'm deeply in that process of discerning my unique gift to Life, and getting on with the giving of that gift to the world.

My medical update: I was back with my angels at Duke Brain Tumor Center two months ago and had my routine 6 month MRI with my now routine, but never taken for granted, clear results, and even continuing improvement of the scar tissue around the excision margins.

This is special time in the human-Earth story. Joanna Macy calls it "The Great Turning," and describes it as, "the essential adventure of our time: the shift from the Industrial Growth Society to a life-sustaining civilization." www.ecoliteracy.org/essays/great-turning. May I, may you, may we find our place in this epic adventure. Here are two quotes from Frederick Buechner that inspire me deeply, and I hope they inspire you too: “The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep need meet.” “One life on this earth is all that we get, whether it is enough or not enough, and the obvious conclusion would seem to be that at the very least we are fools if we do not live it as fully and bravely and beautifully as we can.” I invite you to unwrap the package of the gifts you came here to share, and live fully, bravely, and beautifully.

Love, Blessings, & Blue Skies - Rich

Monday, June 14, 2010

Even Better Than Great News - Many Blessings

(Sorry for the delay in this blog entry; I'm just very busy with good things.) About a month ago I was at Duke Medical Center for my now routine MRI and check-up. I'm now on a twice yearly schedule. It is wonderful to have longer periods between visits. 6 months is enough that I now have days, sometimes weeks, when I don't even think about my "adventure." What a blessing.

My Duke doctors told us that surviving this long moves me to the part of the probability curve where recurrence is very unlikely. In other words, this particular "adventure" is over; I am whole. What a blessing.

They also showed us the comparison of my recent MRI and one from two years ago. Not only have there been no negative changes, but the scar tissue at the edges of the tumor excision is actually dissolving. My brain is even healthier than two years ago. What a blessing.

I count my blessings every day. It's always a big number. May you be so blessed.

Rich

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Beginning of a New Era, and a Message From Ted Kennedy

This blog post should have been posted at the end of August ('09), but I've been too busy with good things. It marks the end of an era for me, and the beginning of a new one.

I'm feeling very healthy (and very grateful to be here!), and have recently returned to my work as an organizational transformation consultant. I am one of ten consultants selected for a pilot project for the Association of Unity Churches International. Our first gathering was a 5-day training at Unity Village in Missouri held Aug. 24-28.

The weekend immediately preceding the training was the third anniversary of my surgery, August 22, and I was doing a lot of reflecting about this journey. The first insight came when I realized that I no longer want to commemorate the date of my surgery, but rather the morning after when I had the powerful blessing of my Oneness experience (detailed below in my Jan. 31 '08 post). So, from now on, I celebrate the anniversary on Aug. 23, which was Sunday, the day before the training.

Although excited about getting back to work, I was having some doubts about whether I was ready for this significant project. On Monday morning when I met the other nine consultants, all extremely accomplished, my anxiety increased. At the end of the first day, I was having serious doubts and began to consider whether I should pull out. I prayed and meditated, which led to a commitment to myself that I would give my best, and not make any decision until the training was completed.

It was Wednesday at lunchtime when I heard that Ted Kennedy had left us the night before. Because he and I had been given the same diagnosis (Stage IV GBM in the left parietal lobe), the news hit me especially hard. Now, as I was deliberating about my possible role in this project I was also thinking about Ted and his life. A new thought emerged and joined the others, "I wonder what Ted might say to me, if he were here."

Thursday morning I stopped by the Unity Village bookstore to get coffee before heading to the training room. As I entered the bookstore my attention was attracted to a rotating rack of notecards with different quotations. One in particular pulled me in; it seemed somehow "brighter" or more illumined than the rest. When I was a dozen feet away I could make it out. It said, "Have faith in yourself and in the future." I thought, "This is the perfect message for me to hear right now. This is the re-minder and en-couragement I need. I wonder who said it." I moved to the rack and picked up the card. At the bottom in small letters was the attribution: Ted Kennedy.

From that encounter, I found my courage and faith. I willingly and completely embraced the project. I am now very happily and very effectively working with my assigned church, Unity Church of North Idaho. Together, we are living ever more fully the Unity movement vision: "Centered in God, we co-create a world that works for all."

I feel that I have closed out an era, one marked primarily by my medical adventure, and have begun a new era, one dedicated to joyfully fulfilling my purpose here on Earth.

Love, Blessings, and Blue Skies,
Rich

Monday, May 4, 2009

Another clear MRI, and another great dream.

Just back from Duke Medical Center last week for my routine 3-month followup MRI. Results were clear again! So very glad to still be here, on our stunningly beautiful Earth, having this wondrous human experience. Everyday I feel more and more connected to all that is.

First, a few words about terminology, and the power of choosing your own. A "clear" MRI is not the label the doctors use. They use the word "stable", i.e. no changes, for this best possible result. I won't argue with the perhaps greater precision or accepted medical denotation of their term, but I do pay attention to the subtle emotional impact for me of "stable." To me, "stable" implies a temporary state than could just as easily switch to "unstable." For me, "clear" says, "it is gone, it is over." I much prefer, and choose to use my term of "clear." I am ever more convinced of the importance of "creating my own story" of healing as a way of interpreting the details of my healing journey.

And, two nights prior to my MRI, I received the blessing of another foretelling dream. (See the description of my first great presaging dream in my Feb. 1, 2008 post, below.)

Here's the dream: Ruth Ann and I are on a hike, a "journey," through a meadow. The path starts going around a mountain next to the sea. The track gets very narrow and treacherous as it climbs and circles around the mountain. Precipitous drop off. Very dangerous. Very scary. We don't really have a choice so we summon our courage and push on. Finally, blessedly, the track begins to widen and flatten out. We continue forward and come to a place where we can look down onto a beautiful harbor with about 30 boats, as beautiful as any harbor we've ever seen. We walk down to the harbor and discover its name is Snug Harbor. We stay there for a very pleasant, restoring afternoon. Refreshed, we start out on the trail again. It leads through another meadow. Then, as the trail begins to rise, I realize that we are going around in a circle and will be encountering the dangerous stretch again. I stop us and say, "We don't have to go this way again. We've learned all that we need to learn from that experience." We turn back and return to the Snug Harbor.

I am so amazed and so appreciative for the inner wisdom that comes when we quiet our minds though meditation, dreams, prayer, other methods. May we all be blessed by listening to our "still small voice."

Blue Skies,
Rich

Monday, December 15, 2008

Everyone Should Read This Vital Book: "Anticancer: A New Way of Life"

We've just discovered a most important book: "Anticancer: A New Way of Life" by David Servan-Schreiber, MD, PhD. This is an essential resource for anyone who has been diagnosed with cancer and everyone who wants to avoid such a diagnosis. Thoroughly researched (28 pages of bibliographic notes!), Servan-Schreiber "connects the dots" between research results in many areas into a whole understanding of how to heal and avoid cancer.

Looking back over our experience, his prescription is very close to what we did that resulted in my healing. We had help from many books (which I intend to discuss in a future post); this one is our most highly recommended.

Love & Blessings,
Rich

Grateful to Be Here

It's been months since I've posted to this blog. My life is very full again, in good ways, and it's been all too easy to put off an update post until "later." "Later" has turned into "months after later." I've recently had a reminder that a long time without a post on a blog about someone who received a terminal diagnosis could raise an anxious question in the minds of readers. So this is a brief post to simply let you know, I'm very happily still here! I am well, in fact very well, and all indications continue to show that my brain cancer is gone. I'm doing so well that the doctors have extended the time between routine check-up MRIs to three months, with the promise to extend them even further soon.

Thank you all for helping us "keep the high watch" with your positive thoughts, prayers, and support. We truly are all in this together, and when any one of us heals, it contributes to the healing field that helps heal us all.

In Deep Gratitude & Love,
Rich

Friday, February 1, 2008

Third Open Letter - Joyful News!: Rich Update

[This is an "open letter" about my return to health and wholeness.]

January 31, 2008

Dear Beloved Community,

I'd like to tell you a love story. We're just back from the Duke Brain Tumor Center where our doctor told me, "You are completely cancer free." Among the many treatment therapies I’ve experienced, we know that the love we have received from so many of you has been the most powerful healing agent.

We are elated, deeply appreciative, overflowing with gratitude, and, yet, not surprised. Even though in the summer of 2006 I was given little chance of surviving a year, we've had this faith and knowing, almost from the first, that it would be OK, that this challenge was somehow for us, and not against us.

The night before my big tests at Duke (MRI and PET scans), I had this beautiful dream. I was walking on a path with a pond on my left and a dense forest on my right. As I was moving forward I came to a place where a big tree had blown over, uprooting a huge root ball leaving a big hole. I couldn't go forward. My only option was to back track and go around the pond the other way. It took me a couple of days to get back to the same spot. To my surprise, the tree was gone and the hole had been filled in, leveled, and had grass growing on it. It had been made whole. I couldn't imagine how that happened so quickly and decided there must have been some divine intervention. I walked across the grass and headed forward on my path. So you see, there have been indications along the way like this one, that I was going to be OK. And you all have been part of that knowing. Many of you told us, "I have a feeling...," or "I just know...," or other affirmations. Thank you for keeping faith for us, with us.

It's been quite a journey of body, mind, and spirit. We could even say an epic journey because of the transformative impact on us. Above all else, it has been a journey of wondrous blessing.

One of the most meaningful lessons (of many!) has been a deeper understanding of, "You have to do the work yourself, but you can't do it alone," and a deeper appreciation for all who have contributed to our journey of healing. So many angels. Knowing how deeply our lives intertwine, we thank you all so very deeply.

Early in my journey I had a strong intuition that my individual story was a metaphor for our collective story; one can say that our beautiful Earth is dealing with a kind of cancer: unrestrained growth that may potentially destroy the whole. In an article, "My Story, Our Story" (article below) there are some examples of how this may be true.

Today, I'd like to offer an additional, hopeful way that my story may be representative, if we make wise choices, of our collective human-Earth story. I think of it as "back from the brink." I did pay attention to the subtle but unmistakable signals, and did wake up. We made dramatic, inconvenient changes in the way we live. If we'd been asked 2 years ago if it were possible to make such drastic changes - in our diet, in our priorities, in our beliefs, in our actions - we would have said no. Norman Cousins says, "Anything is possible when... [we] realize that everything is at stake." From this side of the changes, we can now say that, not only were the changes easier than we thought they would be, they all have contributed to a much fuller, happier life. Just as your love and care prompted us to pursue different therapies and healing modalities, and have sustained and supported us spiritually, emotionally, and materially, our collective hearts can put love into action and bring hope and healing to the planetary challenges we are facing.

A consequence of feeling part of a larger story is our commitment to share what we've learned in hopes that it might help others encountering similar challenges. We are open to suggestions as to how best to do that. One step I've taken is to create a blog, "My Healing Story, Our Story'" (http://mystoryourstory.blogspot.com) where I've collected our "open letters," and where we will be adding more posts about specific things we've done that worked for us. We humbly invite you to take a look and offer your comments, experience, and wisdom.

Love, Blessings, and Wellness for the Benefit of All Beings,
Rich & Ruth Ann

Thursday, January 31, 2008

My Story, Our Story: A Journey of Healing - August 2007

[This article was published in "Itineraries," a newsletter of SecondJourney, in August 2007: www.SecondJourney.org]

My Story, Our Story: A Journey of Healing
By Rich Henry

I have a story to tell you. It's my story, and it's also much larger, demonstrating that what is most personal is most universal. You could even say that this is our story, and by "our" I mean a very large "our," one that encompasses you and me, all humans, in fact all life on Earth. But let's start with my story.

My Story

In July 2006 I was attending a conference in Chicago. I noticed the slightest change in my perception. It was as if, just the tiniest bit, I was partially in the dream world. I've always been very good with cardinal directions. I have always known where North was. I could always orient my self to my surroundings. But in Chicago, for the first time, this was not effortless. It wasn't a big thing, barely enough to get my attention. But it did get my attention. And then I dismissed it, explaining it away as the heat, or my first time in Chicago, or something I ate.

But this subtle shift persisted after I returned home. I've never been one to visit the doctor without a damn clear need, so I don't know why I listened to the small, inner voice, but I did. I made an appointment to see the doctor.

My doctor looked me over thoroughly, did some simple tests, and said, "There's nothing wrong with you.” He paused, and then said, “But let's be thorough. Let's do an MRI." He got me an appointment for the next week.

Because I did not expect my first-ever MRI it to disclose anything wrong, I found it to be a thoroughly intriguing experience. I am still in awe of what human ingenuity has created, this magnificent tool that makes the invisible visible. Liquid helium at only 4 degrees above absolute zero (-452°F), superconducting current with ZERO resistance, science fiction made manifest, in fact, mundane.

My MRI was on Monday, with an appointment scheduled with my doctor on Wednesday to discuss the results. Meanwhile, my subtle symptoms had completely disappeared. I felt perfectly myself. In fact, I called my doctor on Tuesday afternoon and said, "There's no reason for me to come in, is there. Shall we just cancel my appointment for tomorrow?" His reply, "No, I want to see you. There's a reason to come in. And bring your wife." This dramatically changed the atmosphere of this, up until now, interesting adventure. It was a very difficult night for Ruth Ann and me, but not nearly as difficult as it would have been had we known the full impact of what we were about to hear.

We arrived for the appointment. The nurse ushered us into an examining room. The usual uneasy waiting for the doctor's knock and entry was, this time, excruciating. What was 10 minutes seemed like 10 hours. And then it came. The doctor entered and put the MRI films on the light box. "I have hard news. You have a brain tumor." He was pointing to the MRI and explaining, but neither Ruth Ann or I heard much after that first sentence. We were in shock. One thing we did get, as much through non-verbal communication as words, "This is serious." After a few minutes the thought came to me, "This is important. Numb isn't going to help you. You'd better wake up so you can hear what the doctor has to tell you." I made a huge effort, and began to hear him say, as in a dream, "Put your affairs in order." "You have an appointment with the brain surgeon next Tuesday." "I'm so sorry," he said. "I cried last night when I told my wife about your case."

In looking back on that day, I'm struck most by the deep compassion of my doctor contrasted with the harsh reality of doctors' crammed schedules that require getting on to the next patient.

The next few days were a roller coaster, alternating between numb - trying to simply pass the time until we met the surgeon - and hyper clarity - "There's nothing that clears the mind like knowing you are to be shot at sunrise."

Slowly, I began to piece together a plan for how I was going to approach this journey. I began to come to the realization that how I engaged was critical, the most important choice I could make. I've long believed that we have much more choice than most of us realize. At this point, I couldn't choose not to have the tumor, but I could, at least theoretically, choose how I would respond. I was now being given the opportunity to move theory into practice, to "walk my talk."

This liminal period, waiting to meet the surgeon, was also the time when an intuitive insight was just beginning to form, that my story was larger than just about me, that it might be a representative, parallel story to the current state of our collective human-Earth story.

When we met the surgeon, his clear expertise and confidence increased my confidence and comfort. I knew I was in good hands.

One of the most hopeful and empowering things the surgeon told me was, "This is your tumor. No one has ever had a tumor exactly like this one. No matter what the statistics say, every tumor reacts differently. Don't pay too much attention to statistics."

Another thing he said about the surgery that was very helpful was, "To you, it will be a blink. To me, it will be four hours. To your wife, it will be an eternity." For me, this had many layers. The "blink" reminded me of the almost magical sophistication of our medical technology. The "four hours" reminded me that this surgery is routine, just another day at the office. The "eternity" reminded me of just how precious this life experience and our relationships are - what a blessing and privilege to be alive on Earth. All three perspectives worked together to bring me to a place of comfort and peace.

And then, a surprise. The doctor said, "You're scheduled for surgery tomorrow morning. Check in at 6:00." We knew a swift response was critical and expected surgery would happen within a week, but just 15 hours away was unsettling. My intuition was very clear. I told the doctor I needed at least a couple of days to prepare. He looked at me like I was crazy, paused… then responded, "Let me check the schedule." He came back in a few minutes and said, "We can do it next Tuesday."

This felt right. I knew in my heart that any downside from postponing a few days would be more than offset by having time to prepare mentally and spiritually. Looking back on this, I also see that this was a turning point of reclaiming my conscious role as active partner in my healing.

I had six days. I made the very most of it. It was a week filled with fun, family, friends, and appreciation. I arrived at the hospital very early on Tuesday, turned myself over to the doctors' agenda, surrendered quickly to the anesthetic, and a blink later snapped back into full consciousness in the recovery room. There was no grogginess; one moment I was out, the next instant fully present. And the first words that came into my consciousness were, "We have come here to be moved to tears. We have come here to inspire and be inspired." I was surprised by the wisdom in this statement. Tears - tears of sorrow, tears of joy - are the mark of the depth of an experience, the degree of life in an experience. This deeply meaningful gift was just one of the many unexpected and powerful blessings we've received as the story continues. We've had many tears, many more of joy than of sorrow.

The morning following my surgery, I awoke very early and then began to drift in and out of that sweet state of hypnogogic consciousness between awake and asleep. And then it happened. I got it! I really got it! I had the undeniable experience of Oneness with all creation. There were no boundaries, no time, no separation of any kind. I was the universe, the universe was me. I have no idea how long this state lasted in worldly time; it was an eternity - not in the sense of a perception of a very long time, but in the sense of timelessness.

I have long had an intellectual belief in our Oneness. I understand how everything emerged from the single point, the source of Oneness, 13.7 billion years ago in the Big Bang. I have been a student of the Universe Story, the amazing story of the evolution of emergence that has resulted in the beautiful, complex diversity we see everywhere we look. I know intellectually that this almost infinite diversity offers such a compelling illusion of separateness that few are able to transcend it. I have lots of words to talk about Oneness, but at that moment, all the words fell away, and I had, for the first time in my life, the blessed experience of Oneness, and I will be in the world differently from that point on.

My story continues. I am doing well. Well is how I am doing, and well is what I am doing. I will continue on chemo-therapy through December 2007. There is both uncertainty and certainty in my story, as is true for every one of us.

Here is what is uncertain: although every step on this adventure has been accompanied by the best possible results - every MRI has been clear, showing no sign of recurrence - the statistics for my diagnosis are very daunting. Here is what is certain: I am not a statistic. And I am alive now, more fully alive now than before the tumor.

Our Story

We are at a crucial time in the unfolding of our human-Earth story. Learning together will be the most important factor in the survival of the Earth and ourselves. I see many parallels between my personal story and our collective story. I offer these glimpses in the hope that they may inspire you, in your own way, to live more fully.

• I was asleep, unaware of the trouble I was about to face. I was distracted by a very busy life. If I had paid more attention to my health, I would have noticed sooner. The call to awaken comes gently at first, then ever more insistently, until it can no longer be ignored. In like manner, the subtle (and not so subtle!) signs of trouble on the planet are apparent, if we pay attention. The Earth is giving us a wake-up call; how dire must things become before we awaken and do something? The longer we wait, the lower our prospects for recovery.

• Even after taking the first step, seeing the doctor, I was all too willing to step back into comfortable denial ("There's no reason for me to come in, is there."). It's very painful to accept the truth - "This is serious" - but there is no hope without that acceptance.

• The Five Stages of Grief, as named by Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, are equally applicable in individual and our collective cases: 1) Denial, 2) Anger, 3) Bargaining, 4) Despair, 5) Acceptance. I've gone through these stages, as have so many individuals. These stages also provide a helpful framework as we collectively come to grips with what we and the Earth are facing. For our collective story, once we get to the stage of acceptance, it opens many choices of practical significance. Although Kubler-Ross is talking about acceptance of inevitable physical death, acceptance includes coming to a place of choice about how to live the time that we have left. We may, if we are wise, choose death to the unsustainable ways we have been living in order to give birth to new ways of living in sustainable harmony with Earth.

• Cancer is a very interesting illness and metaphor. The overriding characteristic of every kind of cancer cell is unrestrained progress; they literally do not know when to stop replicating. As we look around at human impact on the Earth, most of our problems arise from too much of a good thing. Advances that offer the promise of great benefit when first introduced become untenable when wide spread. The automobile is a classic example; will the world be a better place when every family on the planet has a car?

• We all are beneficiaries of our miraculous technological progress. I am acutely aware of this truth. At the same time we also are all impacted by the negative consequences of that same progress. It's time to rebalance the relationship between knowledge and wisdom, between more and enough. As I've discovered in my own experience, this rebalancing is not something to be feared, but is actually a path to greater peace and joy. And I am convinced that this is true at both individual and collective levels.

• "You have to do the work yourself, but you don't do it alone." One of the greatest blessings of this journey is the love and support offered to us through our various communities. It has been difficult to receive so much. I can attest, it is easier to give than to receive. But this journey has put us, over and over, in positions of having no choice but to receive - from doctors and nurses, from family, from friends, from community, from strangers. Although difficult, learning to receive has been an experience of beauty and grace. The work of healing the planet will be work that we do together, with each of us both giving and receiving.

• This is the time for loving right action, individually and collectively. One of my first and greatest fears following the diagnosis was, "I won't have time to complete my work." I now know I will have all the time I need to complete my work on the planet because I am approaching it from a different consciousness. Rather than fear, I am now working from a place of love, peace, calm, faith, and without attachment: fully engaged, and not attached. I do know how crucial and time sensitive our work is, both to ourselves and to the planet, but it doesn’t have to come from a place of fear or frenzy.

• Another gift of this journey has been the opportunity - no, the necessity - to reevaluate what truly matters. Many things I used to think were so important have simply fallen away. I have greater clarity about what is my work, and greater peace in trusting others to discern and do their work. As Buddha said, "Your work is to discover your work and then with all your heart to give yourself to it." Yes, the situation is urgent. The paradox is that frenetic, martyring action is not an answer. Action from a calm, centered, principled place of love will have the greatest impact.

The greatest blessing of all is my experience of our Oneness. May we all be so blessed. For all beings. Namaste.

About the author

Rich Henry is the co-founder, along with Victor Bremson, of For The GrandChildren, "a global network of all people committed to unleashing the power and joy of generational responsibility. We are devoted to bringing forth an environmentally sustainable, spiritually fulfilling, socially just human presence on Earth for all generations." ForTheGrandChildren.org

Second Open Letter - September 12, 2006

[This is our second "open letter," sent 3 weeks after surgery.]

September 12, 2006

Dear Beloved Community - I have healing news. I am doing well. Well is what I'm doing, and well is how I'm doing it.

In this second open letter, I'll tell you more about this amazing journey that I'm on. It is filled with spiritual breakthroughs and insights and I have deep gratitude for the gifts I'm receiving on this journey.

I also have this sense that what I'm experiencing is about much more than just me, that my journey is metaphorical for our collective journey and how we all are being called to take renewed responsibility for healing - at individual, societal, and planetary levels. So, with great humility and gratitude, I invite you to share in the learning that flows from this experience. And I also know, in concrete, practical ways, that when any one of us heals, it contributes to the healing of all.

First, and absolutely primary, deep gratitude, far beyond the ability of words to express, for all of your prayers and caring. We are truly overwhelmed by the love and beauty that are showering down on us from every quarter. There simply are no words, but there is deep, deep feeling, connection.

Second, a medical dimension update. On 8/22 I had surgery to remove the brain tumor. It's truly remarkable how easy this has been. 2-1/2 days in the hospital. Magical technology. Legions of angels. Speedy recovery, almost a non-event - one friend referred to it pretty accurately as "outpatient brain surgery" - except for the contributions and expertise of so many. The whole surgery/hospital experience has deepened my appreciation for what we can create together, once we have an aligning purpose. (And I'm seeing so many ways we are increasingly and collectively pursuing such an aligning purpose of Peace on Earth. This is a very good time to be here.)

I still have healing work to do. I have a 7 week course of radiation and chemo therapy. I know this will go remarkably easily and smoothly, just as the surgery has. And we know the contribution that all of the prayer/caring support has made, so we invite you to keep sending them our way. And, in your prayers, please add "for all beings," so we can all optimize the benefit.

Third, a spiritual dimension update. This is the best. A major event in my "spiritual biography" occurred about 30 years ago when I attended my first workshop with Joseph Campbell. He opened my eyes in a wonderful way and I experienced a big "path realignment." What he had to say made so much sense. I've often referred to that day as an "intellectual religious experience." In the hospital, it all came together for me in a much deeper, experiential way. I deeply experienced the reality or our oneness, that our sense of separation from each other and "source" is indeed an illusion (albeit a compelling one). I have now experienced in a new, deeper way the "peace that surpasses understanding."

Perhaps the biggest gift, among many, is that I am now absolutely clear about what is my work to do here. Over the past several years, I have been tentative, juggling several major projects, giving none of them the attention they deserve or require. Now I know. Now I am clear. Now I am focused. (More on this story in a future note.)

Here's how you can continue to help. In my first note, I included the following paragraph. It came to us mostly intuitively. It now feels absolutely solid and right, so I'm copying it verbatim: Please pray for me, for us - in any way that your "still, small voice" guides you. And, we have some specific prayer suggestions too. Our primary prayer is that we stay out of fear. If you can help us, both by praying that we are able to stay out of fear, and also staying out of fear yourself, this will be tremendous support. If a fearful thought arises, just acknowledge it, thank it, and affirm, "There is only love here. There is only healing here."

We are loving hearing from everyone, and are also just not able to respond individually to every e-mail and card. So please, if I don't respond individually, don't interpret it in any way other than that there's just a lot going on. Your caring is very meaningful to me.

In deep gratitude for connection and healing, for all beings,
Rich and Ruth Ann

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

Letter to my surgeon - August 15, 2006

[This is the letter I handed to my surgeon at our first meeting. He willingly acceded to our request, and put the MRI films back into the envelope.]

August 15, 2006

Dear Beloved Doctors,

I'd like to give you some context that will help in working with me, with us.

First, I honor your commitment to life, and the dedication of your life to helping and healing. I have great gratitude for and confidence in your expertise and experience, and the amazing capabilities of modern science and medicine. I am at ease being in your care.

And yet the medical dimension is just one part of this story. While entrusting the medical dimension to you, I'm stepping up to take full responsibility for the psychological/spiritual part of this story. I am looking forward to doing all that I can to support the medical treatment.

And, in listening to my intuition, here are some ways you can support me in doing my part.

My wife and I are not in denial about the seriousness of my situation. Dr. Justin Osborn, my primary care physician, has thoroughly informed us of the condition and possible outcomes. I know it is your job to keep me informed of the serious nature of this condition, however, it is important to me right now to remain as hopeful as possible so that I may experience as much peace and rest as possible.

A consequence of this thinking is that I'm not very interested in dwelling on, or even hearing much about worst case scenarios or slim probabilities. I certainly want to be informed thoroughly in matters where decisions are required, but in matters where the one path is very clear, where deliberation won’t really change anything, I'd prefer keeping my negative or fearful involvement minimized. I trust your agency in such situations. I know that focusing on the positive (while not being in denial) is a powerful healing force. My goal is to live as fully as I can.

I have deep gratitude for your involvement in my story. However it plays out, may we be all be healed and learn by the experience.

Namaste,
Rich & Ruth Ann

First Open Letter - August 13, 2006

[This is our first "open letter" to friends and community telling them of my recently diagnosed brain tumor.]

August 13, 2006

To our Beloved Community,

I have news. I'm waking up. As is often the case, waking up comes in response to a "wake up call." My wake up call is that the doctors told me last Wednesday that I have a brain tumor. The medical side of this learning opportunity is moving quickly. I meet with the neurosurgeon tomorrow and will probably have surgery this week or next. I am grateful for the amazing sophistication of our medical expertise, and have complete confidence in our doctors' miraculous abilities.

And yet, the medical dimension of this story is but one, small part. What I'm most interested in is the spiritual dimension, and our collective opportunities in my individual story.

Ruth Ann and I have been, and continue to be, on a bit of an emotional roller coaster, yet with a definite trending toward peace and gratitude. We know that this is "for us," even if that's not how it might appear. The "real" of this situation is that there is only love here, only healing here.

Here's how you can help. Please pray for me, for us - in any way that your "still, small voice" guides you. And, we have some specific prayer suggestions too. Our primary prayer is that we stay out of fear. If you can help us, both by praying that we are able to stay out of fear, and also staying out of fear yourself, this will be tremendous support. If a fearful thought arises, just acknowledge it, thank it, and affirm, "There is only love here. There is only healing here."

And we invite you to join us in a visualization. We are visualizing the tumor as a wispy cloud, just a temporary, insubstantial appearance, becoming ever less substantial as it evaporates into clear blue air. We gratefully acknowledge receiving the message and the opportunity for awakening. We tell it sincerely, "You've done an excellent job of getting our attention. Thank you. You've completed your task well and are not needed anymore. You may return to the light."

We invite you to do this with as much joy as possible and to participate with us in feelings of lightness and release. To honor me in this process, I would ask that you reflect back to me and each other the hope and optimism which are an essential part who I am.

See this healing process as a blessing in your own lives and bring into this circle of healing all those who are in need of healing and for the benefit of all beings. When any of us heals, we all heal.

Prayer:
Centered in the healing, loving heart of the Living Christ, we are grateful for lessons of love and healing. We lovingly release any appearance of disease as we joyously welcome wholeness, comfort, and ease. As we join together in this healing circle, we clearly and steadfastly hold sacred space for the benefit of all beings and for peace and healing in our own lives. Thank you, God! And so it is!

Namaste,
Rich & Ruth Ann