Today we walk in bright awe through silent woodland cathedral, Sanjee and I.  A deep cobalt sky pierced with sunlight ignites blinding sparks in fresh snow. Twisted oaks rise, dark latticework against the vaulted arch of heaven ringed with evergreen  spires.  All is hushed.

Snow, everywhere snow.  How many flakes in this meadow, in that stand of poplars? And each one unique, this we have been taught, and indeed it has been studied and proven.  The thought is mind-boggling; it’s a concept that can only be processed by the heart.

Now, we also know that every single perfect crystal begins life looking exactly the same as all the others – exactly. It is the journey that changes them. No two crystals will follow precisely the same path from clouds to earth, be met by the very same winds and   obstacles, have the same speed of descent. Each will be shaped by its journey, to end unique among snowflakes.  And the consummation of all this traveling is a seamless interlocking with numberless, distinctly different others in a radiant winter blanket, insulating, and later, melting to nourish the greening earth.

By the end of its fall to earth, each snowflake will have attained a new kind of perfection. From the original blueprint of its creation (and in keeping with its inherent symmetry), it will have forged an exquisite new design that can never be duplicated. Singular beauty and purposeful function are equally present; wonder and practicality walking hand in hand.

Snow.  Another roadmap in nature’s travel guide, for those times when we lose our way.

Dear Traveler,

Some of you are well-acquainted with our health care system's well-oiled (or in some cases, not so much) cancer care machine. If you become a patient, it goes like this: symptoms -> tests -> diagnosis -> plan -> treatment -> follow-up -> follow-up -> follow-up. Once you're plugged in and on the conveyor, if you're at a large medical centre you may meet a dozen people who will be involved in your care. Most of them will be excellent at their jobs (if a bit tired from overwork) but rely heavily on the rote method of dealing with your "intake" and "processing"  through all the phases of your care. With true respect and sincere gratitude for how hard these people work: there are very few original thinkers in the above-described  scenario, and even fewer true healers. No matter how well-intended, the system does not allow for any deviation. If you're fortunate, you'll feel a real confidence in your oncologist as a good diagnostician and excellent technician, and have a crackerjack nurse you can direct all your questions to. This is a wonderful thing, a great privilege in this world, and the best we can hope for. Yet there are rare individuals working in the system who manage, by some grace, to bring a bit of something special to the table. In all my years as a nurse I'm reasonably sure I can count the ones I've met on two hands. I met one of those, an oncologist, the other day.

I accompanied my friends Andy and Helen to their first clinic visit on the road to Andy's healing from colon cancer. We attended a beautifully appointed free-standing cancer care centre and it was a confidence-inspiring setting to be in, if a bit impersonal. We awaited Andy's care team-to-be in a small examination room, and eventually the junior surgeon appeared and stayed for a lengthy visit. I can say without a doubt he was, as surgeons go, the best teacher I have ever met (and I've been to scores of these first appointments). I was grateful for his communication skills and transparency; I had to ask very few of the hardball questions I was there to ask, as he explained things so beautifully. And, I was thrilled for my friend Andy to find himself in such good care. But the best was yet to come. Dr. A eventually left us to make some inquiries about Andy's case, and he returned with the chief of surgery for this division, and the rest of the team. The primary nurse/case manager made a huge impression on Andy (rightfully so - she is a gem) and he developed an immediate rapport with his new medical muse. But I was struck by the chief oncologist. His presence - and he was SO VERY present - was outside the box in some way. I studied him as he spoke with Andy and Helen. He was relaxed. He was all there. He was not dragged down by the system and its overwork, though he was an older man, and a professor as well as chief surgeon (and who knows - maybe a family man as well). Then he said some things that were very much not part of the usual script. He said he doesn't believe in predictions; he is very much a one-step-at-a-time kind of guy. He said he isn't fussy about certain things (and mentioned a few things that other docs are typically very fussy about). He radiated a peaceful confidence and authority that came from the wisdom of experience. But there was more there: love. As unlikely as it seemed, this man was anchored in it, unshakeable. As he wrote up his paperwork he asked me about the nature of my relationship with Andy and Helen, and we responded that I am a friend. Still looking down at his papers, he said gently "oh? then you're not in the medical field in any way?"  Busted. (How do they always know?) I responded that I'm a nurse, but was there as a friend and fellow cancer survivor, ovarian, to be specific. He asked kindly who had cared for me and I told him; it was someone he knew. Moments later the session wrapped up, and the team all shook hands with each of us. As Dr. S, chief of surgery, left the room, he stopped ever so briefly beside my chair and laid his hand on my shoulder. Acknowledgement and compassion flowed from his hand. I was stunned to recognize the touch of a true healer. A healer who is surviving as such in a system that seems designed to make such a feat impossible. It was a bright, unforgettable moment, filled with hope.

For the next day and a half, I was a bit undone. I cried easily, with no clue as to why. Then I realized: it was that compassionate touch by a knowing stranger, that acknowledgement of what I had been through, delivered with love and understanding. After such a long spell of being strong, of steering the bow straight into the waves in the storm, I cried over the immensity of it all. And I cried for joy that this was the man who would be looking after my friend Andy.

Dr. S has, I'm sure, no clue of his effect upon me, and probably upon others far too numerous to count. He was just being himself. That's the power we have. A good reminder to me to *always* be my best self, 'cause you never know what the ripple effect might be.

Dear Traveler,

During the first six months of my recovery from surgery and chemo, I read twenty or so very good books. A number of them related to the healing journey I found myself on, and of those, a few were truly noteworthy. By request, here is a list of some of the books I found extremely helpful in dealing with major, life-altering illness. I hope it’s of some value to you and yours.

With love,
rosemary

1)  Radical Remission: Surviving Cancer Against All Odds
        Dr. Kelly Turner, PhD.

Dr. Turner's Doctoral thesis led to this groundbreaking work, ten years in the making. Finding 1000 cases of so-called "spontaneous remissions" in the medical journals, as a researcher she set out to find the commonalities between all the patients who had survived despite an extremely poor prognosis--many of them after being sent home with mere weeks to live. Her approach is one of hard science, but she also allows the survivors to speak for themselves, giving us insight into their own, very human experience of cancer survival. This book tops my list for a good reason. Dr. Turner offers 9 steps that all the survivors have in common, something which had never been studied. To paraphrase Dr. Turner: if we're going to fight the war against cancer, we should take some cues from those who've already won.

2)  Anti-Cancer: A New Way of Life
       David Servan-Schreiber, M.D.

This book is an excellent primer for anyone living with cancer. Dr. Servan-Schreiber is the voice of experience, having survived brain cancer in the 1990’s to go on and create a practical, wise, holistic paradigm for managing the illness that straddles both sides of the medical / natural healing fence. Though not against chemo and radiation when the severity of the situation demands it, he is strong on a natural, easily achievable approach. The DVD is also excellent. Paraphrasing my favourite passage from the live lecture: “Some people believe that I am spreading false hope by teaching that cancer can be managed, and sometimes even prevented, by natural means. I say the evidence for this is so strong that to NOT tell you about it is to spread false hopelessness.” 

3)   Broken Open: How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow
       Elizabeth Lesser

Truth be told, I’m not much of a self-help literature enthusiast; I typically derive my inspiration from other sources. But sudden, serious illness requires a fancy quick-step of internal reorganization, and this book came highly recommended by a wise friend. When we first fall ill, it’s truly helpful if we can get our thoughts and emotions organized without delay, and find some inner direction that feels constructive and positive. The stories in this book are the kind that can spark the reflection process and help you find meaning amidst the madness.

4)  The 22 Non-Negotiable Laws of Wellness  
       Greg Anderson

Although the title sounds self-help-ish, this is no new-age manifesto, but a beautifully moving treatise on twenty-two timeless values that, when understood, can transform an ordinary life into a magnificent one. Greg Anderson had advanced lung cancer, had already lost one lung, and finally was told he had about a month to live. While lying in his bed those final days, he undertook some inner work that eventually led to a full recovery. He wrote this book eleven years later, in 1995, and continues to write and teach to this day. That says it all; if someone who has done THAT wants to tell me how he achieved it, I’m all ears. It’s a truly meaningful book.

5)   The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern   World  - Lewis Hyde

If you are an artist of any kind, this book is very life-and-purpose- affirming (and all things life-affirming are  extremely valuable if you’re literally fighting for your life). It clearly expresses the true role and meaning of artists in society, and the struggles they encounter trying to exist in a market economy. Hyde speaks of the “gift economy” that all true art is inherently anchored in, and how we can bring this to life. Part anthropology, part story, part sociology, I found it a deeply worthwhile read.

6)  Letters to a Young Artist
       Julia Cameron

The device is based on Rilke’s “Letters to a Young Poet” and personally I would have been just as happy for a straightforward sharing of the life wisdom it contains. Just the same, this book is a good kick in the pants – actually many good kicks in the pants – to just get up and do. This was important for me when I was feeling physically wretched. Every line written, every colourful stitch taken, every sketch finished is a victory, and a statement that you are alive and moving forward. These small acts of doing are immensely healing, and we can do a little something every day even if we’re a physical and emotional wreck. Keep doing, and we keep moving toward wellness of spirit, and hopefully, body.

7)   Earthing
       Stephen Sinatra, M.D., Martin Zucker, Clinton Ober

This book kicked around our house for weeks before I could get past the title enough to pick it up (“Earth-ing? Really?) I’m glad I finally did, because I believe it’s a really important book. Earthing refers to grounding; being physically connected to the earth (just like your Rogers cable.) Basically the book relates a wisdom possessed by our grandmothers, with the support of reams of modern, empirical data to back it up: you can’t grow a decent cabbage indoors, never mind a healthy human being. The free exchange of electrons between the earth and our bodies balances us electrically and waylays the chain of events that leads to inflammation (which in turn leads to most modern illnesses.) In industrialized nations, humans (and often pets) have become so disconnected from the earth that this natural exchange no longer has an opportunity to take place, with dire consequences. The information is sensible, the data believable, and the stories of healing ring true. Well worth getting past the title, I believe this book holds some very important keys to health and healing in the age of condo-living and office towers.

8) Dying to Be Me
    Anita Moorjani

This book gives an uplifting, personal account of one woman's experience of surviving cancer after actually entering final days, slipping into a coma, and being admitted to hospital to die. She awoke from her coma, and three weeks later was sent home, cancer-free. Though it sounds incredible, this is a true story, and well-documented by the medical community.

There are so many books I could add! Perhaps I'll post a second list in the future, Be well, all - Rosemary