I am thrilled that we sprung the kitties from their safe prison (they were indoor cats for their first four years) and released them to the pleasures and terrors of the outside world. It’s so much fun watching them taste all of life, including rats, and having exciting explorations and glorious adventures.

“Life is where one goes to temporarily believe in death, fleetingly forget their power, and briefly have the Dickens scared out of them, voluntarily. All in the name of adventure.” (Mike Dooley, Notes from the Universe)  Life is a wonderful adventure and it is sometimes very scary, but oh so worth it — especially when we remember our power.

This morning I was reminded of that power. Tom held me in his arms and told me how much he loved having me in his life, how he loved my body and my soul, loved all of who I am and felt lucky to be with me. I took it in, marveling at this miracle in my life – a miracle I intentionally created.

For many years I longed to hear those words from someone, but I didn’t really believe I ever would. I remember when psychic Pamala Oslie told me about Tom years before he appeared in my life, describing him perfectly and saying, “He thinks you’re wonderful. He thinks you’re beautiful.” That was very hard for me to believe, and that was the problem — I needed to believe those things about myself before he could come into my life. I also needed to be willing to step over the threshold into the scary, exciting adventure that is love.

One day I decided that I was ready to take on that great adventure. I proclaimed to myself, “I am willing to do whatever it takes.” I was finally willing to face all the fears that relationship brought up for me, the terror of possible pain and abandonment, the fear of loss. I was willing to heal my heart and open to love. I turned all my energy and focus toward that mission, that great adventure, to love and be loved. I saturated my life with that purpose, I marinated in that goal, and the Universe responded by bringing me everything I needed for that great journey, including Tom!

Now, in present time, lying in Tom’s arms I thought, wouldn’t it be great to create another miracle, a healing miracle? I healed the blockage in my heart…I can heal this blockage in my belly in the same way.

I have stepped over the threshold into this cancer adventure and it is scary, exciting and awakening. I am willing to do whatever it takes to get the fullest learning and healing from this experience. I am marinating myself in love, healing energy, vibrant foods and high vibrations; consequently the Universe is flowing to me everything I need in order to heal — inspiring books, topnotch healers, and love and prayers from the beautiful people in my life. In the midst of cancer, I feel a sense of ease, trust and wellbeing — I call that a miracle!

How about you? Is there a threshold beckoning you to step over it? Do you remember the power you possess to create the scary, exciting, enlivening life of your dreams?  I am wishing for you a wonderful adventure!

In Love,

Jan Jacobsen

I’m working with a cancer coach (consciouscancerjourney.com) who is providing me with tools that help me to intentionally create the life and state of being that I want. One of the tools is called Scripting, which involves taking time each morning to write down how I desire my day to go, to see my day and my health in positive possibilities as if it were already so. The physical act of writing these desires builds new neural pathways and my cells ‘eavesdrop’ on these affirmations and arrange themselves accordingly.

The days I have scripted have unfolded remarkably close to the script I laid out for that day. However, I was new to scripting and hadn’t made it a habit yet, and I started to forget to do it. Without conscious direction, old thought habits were starting to creep in. I recently awoke constricted in fear with a pain in my butt that had been aching throughout the night. This dull aching pain had been persistent lately. It is the same pain I’d once mistook for hemorrhoids, but my doctor told me that it is most probably referred pain from the site of the tumor. I’d been hoping that all my healing efforts were succeeding in eliminating or holding the cancer at bay (and that may be true, the pain could simply be referred pain from scar tissue from the radiation). However, fear of the worst-case scenario had me in its grip.

I fell into Tom’s arms as the ‘rains’ came, crying, naming my feelings and my worst fears. One of those is that I will die a painful, lingering death. I’m not afraid of death itself, but, as Woody Allen said, “I just don’t want to be there when it happens.” As I cried and acknowledged this fear, a clearing happened — the fear loosened its grip and the pain lessened, giving me the direct experience that fear makes the pain worse. When I’m tense and barely breathing, the pain increases, which makes me more tense, which makes the pain intensify, and so on until before I know it I’m all crunched up in a black hole of fear and pain.

I was feeling better and pain-free from ventilating my feelings, and continued to process with Tom. I told him that I’ve been thinking about going to a medical intuitive because I realize a part of me wants someone to see my energy field and recognize and acknowledge the value of my soul’s journey. I said to Tom, “I wonder what words I would love to hear her say? What higher truth would I love for her to see about me and this health challenge?” I imagined I was the medical intuitive telling me everything I’d love to hear. Here’s what ‘she’ told me:

“I see that you are a strong, courageous soul, facing your worst fears, making a stand in this lifetime to heal and integrate all of your unloved parts. I see your passion to become whole. I also see that you’ve already done a lot of work on yourself, healing yourself in many ways, and, now there is this one area that needs your loving attention. You are right where you’re supposed to be. You are loving yourself whole, and you are doing a great job!”

It’s natural for us to want all our hard work to be seen, and to have our magnificent Soul Self recognized and acknowledged by others — and, I realize that it’s most important that I recognize and acknowledge that about myself. Therefore, I’ve decided to include in my daily scripting an appreciation for the magnificence of my Big Soul Self.

During the day, if there is pain, I now use it to alert me that I’ve contracted into the little, fearful, pain-in-the-butt me, which reminds me to breathe, relax and return to the awareness of my Magnificent Big Soul Self! The pain is like the Universe goosing me, saying, “Unclench, breathe, stay awake and remember who you really are. Remember that you are loved and watched over. Remember that you are eternal. Remember that you are safe no matter what.” When I’m in that place of remembrance, I breathe easy, I relax, and the pain lessens or completely disappears.

One of my favorite passages from Bartholomew’s book, I Come As a Brother, is about putting fear into perspective. He says, “It is as though you injured your little finger but the rest of your body is all right…Isolate the fear into your ‘finger’ and call on the whole ‘body’ to clarify it.” I’m seeing the cancer in the same way – I’m putting it into perspective. It is not who I am, it is not all of me, it is not bigger than me; it is just a little bitty baby burr under my saddle reminding me to WAKE UP!

At this time I don’t know if the remaining tumor is shrinking, growing, spreading or staying the same. I know that I feel good physically (except for the occasional pain in the butt, which has lessened considerably). I am recovering from the chemo and radiation and feeling more strength and vitality every day. I have been scripting for that and it is so. I’ve now made the scripting a habitual part of my day and it has made a big difference in my sense of wellbeing, happiness and health.

Fear has been a ‘pain in the butt’ for me in this lifetime. I am facing and embracing it and using it to remind me that we are so much more than our bodies — we are big, bright, beautiful, eternal souls here to learn and grow and remember that we are big, bright, beautiful, eternal souls.

What script would you write for your ideal day? If someone could see who you really are — all your brilliance, all your hard work — what words of acknowledgement would you love to hear them say? Say them to yourself! Script them into your day. Then ‘goose’ yourself to stay awake and keep remembering all day long how magnificent, courageous and valuable you truly are!

In Love,

Jan Jacobsen

P.S.

Here is my scripting for today:

Today I am feeling healthy, strong and full of joy and vitality. I eat vibrant foods that add to my health and energy. I feel comfortable and peaceful in my body. I am excited to send out my newsletter, seeing it go out to many people who are inspired and uplifted by it. I look forward to it reaching thousands of people, being of service, reminding others and myself of our true self, our magnificent, beautiful Big Soul Selves. I feel connected to all these people, to all the people in my life, feeling our oneness. I remember throughout the day that I am loved and guided and safe. I feel my partnership with Spirit. Today I rest in a state of grace, where everything I need comes to me easily. I feel happy and inspired and revitalized.

I’ve been experiencing a similar freedom. The thought that death could possibly be just around the corner liberates me to live with a certain amount of abandon. As the song says, “Freedom’s just another word for nothing left to lose.” I am free to not sweat the small stuff, to do only what I want to do, to focus on raising my vibration and living in the state of grace that I love so much.

Even though a part of me wants to really let loose and eat gooey desserts and drink liquor like Laura Linney’s character, I know that would debilitate my health (cancer loves sugar!) and knock me out of the state of grace place. I’m motivated by the dream that I can heal myself, or at least prolong my life; so instead of eating desserts and drinking liquor, I am eating lots of anti-cancer foods and drinking an herbal tea (from my Chinese Medicine doctor) that looks and tastes like it was scraped from the forest floor. I hold my nose when I drink it, and as I drink I affirm to myself, “This is powerful, healing medicine.”

James Dean said, “Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die tomorrow.” I am dreaming and eating as if I’ll live forever and I am living and loving as if I’ll die tomorrow. I feast my eyes and soul on the beauty that surrounds me, the summer flowers, the Santa Barbara mountains and the beautiful people in my life. I don’t think I’d be enjoying such a feast if it weren’t for the cancer – or, as I am choosing to call it, “The burr under my saddle that woke me up.”

As friends from out of town stop by and visit with me, I know that it’s possible it may be the last time I see them. (That is true for all of us. Who knows what life will bring? It is so unpredictable.) Therefore, I really see and appreciate them and savor being in their presence and when we say goodbye to each other there is a depth and a sweetness to it.

I am valuing each moment. Whenever I think about death, I’m reminded that I am alive now. I am here now. Here and now is all there is. In this here and now I’m choosing to raise my vibration and let my light shine. At the end of the first episode of The Big C, the song that plays is, “This little light of mine, I’m gonna let it shine. Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.” That sums it all up perfectly. We are free at any time to fully allow our light to shine, and we don’t need life to turn on us in order to turn us on.

If you thought you might only have a short time to live, how would you let your light shine? What dream of yours would you be living? Do it now — “Dream as if you’ll live forever. Live as if you’ll die tomorrow.”

In Love,

Jan Jacobsen

It is a transcendent place beyond mind, beyond reason, beyond physical, beyond what most doctors will tell you is possible. My doctor told me last week that though my tumor has been reduced in size, it will start growing again because that’s what tumors do — end of story. But in the state of grace place it’s not the end of the story. Miracles happen there. Healing happens there.

Dr. Leonard Laskow performed some fascinating experiments with cancer cells in petri dishes in which he held an intention as he focused on each dish. The intention that had the most success in stopping the growth of the cancer cells by 39% was when he affirmed and imagined, “The natural order is being reinstated and the cells growth is returning to normal.” I am motivated to focus on and cultivate that state of natural order and harmony, not only because I want to heal, but also because it feels good – it is a peaceful, magical place.

Being in a state of grace is being in the flow where synchronicity occurs, coincidences happen, just the right people, books, and events present themselves, and things work out better than I can imagine. It is the realm of unlimited possibilities — I also call it the Miracle-Prone Zone. I was recently stuck in the Moan and Groan Zone, feeling ravaged by the grueling chemo and radiation treatment. I realized that Cynny, my inner cynical one, was feeling burned out and pissy and she was holding me down. She was cynical about taking healthful actions — after all, she groused, they didn’t work before. But underneath the cynicism was a fear that if I tried and failed to heal myself I would be crushed in disappointment. I realized that I needed help.

As I cultivated the state of grace place, I was ‘led’ to a coach who has guided people for 20 years on conscious cancer journeys. My commitment to working with her helped get me back to a healing intention of eating healthy foods, taking supplements and, most important, shifting my attitude and letting myself believe that I could heal myself.

Next, in the flow of synchronicity, a friend sent me a link about antiangiogenesis foods that actually starve tumors, either causing them to shrink or halting further growth by eliminating their blood supply. I am now eating those foods abundantly with a new sense of hope and possibility. (See list at end of newsletter – great cancer preventative foods and also good for weight loss!)

This exciting grace place where anything is possible is where I want to live. However, though this place is becoming home base, I’m not always here. I take occasional forays to the rat race place where I’m scared, scrambling and frantic. The other day hundreds of ants had gathered in and around our cat’s food dish and I set about attacking the ants with the fervor of a mass murderer! It reminded me of the fear frenzy I sometimes feel towards the cancer. But when I notice I’m not breathing and my shoulders are hunched and my stomach is tight and it’s me against THEM, I take a deep breath and return to my home base state of grace, where natural order and peace are reinstated. (The ants have not returned).

Taking deep, slow breaths is one of the ways to enter a state of grace. Other ways are meditation, reading inspirational books, doing qigong, dancing, being with spiritual people, lying and aligning with my husband Tom as we breath together and reveal ourselves in the deep intimacy of ‘lying and truthing’, dropping into stillness and silence, being immersed in the present moment, walking in nature (a natural tuning fork for raising your vibration), and smiling (Starting My Internal Love Engine).

I am a gardener gardening my energy field, choosing to dwell in a state of grace. It’s the place to be. It feels like Home. From all that I’ve heard about death, it is the ultimate state of grace place. If I’m going Home soon, I’m getting a good taste of it (and for it) right now as I nestle into the welcoming embrace of grace. It’s possible that I may not be cured, but I will be healed and made whole. Of that I am certain.

What are ways you enter your state of grace place? I am wishing for all of you (and me) the magic and miracles that take place when we rest in the  loving embrace of grace.

In Love,

Jan Jacobsen

ANTIANGIOGENESIS FOODS

(THAT INHIBIT TUMOR GROWTH AND FAT GROWTH)

Green Tea

Strawberries

Blackberries

Raspberries

Blueberries

Oranges

Grapefruit

Lemons

Apples

Pineapple

Cherries

Red Grapes

Red Wine

Bok Choy

Kale

Soybeans

Ginseng

Maitake Mushroom

Licorice

Turmeric

Nutmeg

Artichokes

Lavender

Pumpkin

Sea Cucumber

Tuna

Parsley

Garlic

Tomato

Olive Oil

Grape seed Oil

Dark Chocolate

Pomegranate

Prior to the show Pam asked me to make a list of some of the things I’d be most excited talking about. I reread all my newsletters and culled from them the juiciest bits. Here are some of those juicy bits. (Most of them were covered in the interview. Below is a link to the archived tape of the interview if you’d like to listen to it).

WAKE UP – YOUR DREAM IS WAITING TO BE BORN!

I first found out I had uterine cancer just before my 60^th birthday. Having something growing in my uterus at the time of such an important birthday made me wonder, “What wants to be born into my life?” I realized that I had been stagnating — I’d done the same work for 27 years and was no longer inspired by it. I’ve always wanted to do inspirational writing. That was my dream. I would tell myself, “Someday I will write.” Cancer kicked my ‘someday’ into ‘WRITE NOW!’ It shook me awake and compelled me to take a risk and live my dream. That’s when the newsletter was born. Have you given birth to your dream?

“GROWTH” OPPORTUNITY

As someone on a spiritual path, I believe that life is all about soul growth and all about love. I see this cancer growth as a growth opportunity and I want to get the most growth I can from it! I’ve asked myself, “What can I learn from this cancer? What wants to be loved here?” I see the tumor as an energy blockage. How am I blocking my energy?  I realize that the belly and pelvic area of my body have sometimes been unloved parts of me. I haven’t brought a lot of breath and awareness to the area. I’ve felt shame about some of the bodily functions there. I’ve also blocked chi energy there by clenching in fear. I am now breathing fully into this area, ventilating it with healing energy. It has got my full loving attention. Is there a part of your body and emotions that you haven’t loved?

TWO ARROWS

The Buddha talks about the two arrows of suffering. The first arrow is called primary suffering — it’s when we have a physical pain or an emotional pain, such as the loss of a loved one. The second arrow is called secondary suffering and it is self-inflicted when we react to the primary pain with resentment, resistance, distraction, or wallowing in victim energy. Those reactions lock the pain in. This has been a challenge of mine, to not get sucked into contractive victim energy. Finding ways to free myself of secondary suffering and move into expansive energy has been my life work. Are you trapped in secondary suffering? The following are valuable tools I’m using that might be helpful for you as well.

A ‘GOOD’ CRY VS. A ‘BAD’ CRY

Since I found out last week that the chemo and radiation treatment didn’t eliminate the cancer, I’ve felt scared and sad and have been having many a “good” cry. A good cry is when I feel the energy fully and allow it to pass through, without putting spin or story on it. This allows it to move through quickly, like a rain shower, and I feel clear and cleansed afterward. A “bad” cry is when I’m circling the drain in a sad story, in a tailspin, like a dog chasing it’s tail of woe, round and round I go, and ‘poor me’ down the drain. A bad cry is very draining!

BEFRIENDING THE FEELING

Sometimes I am gripped by fear. When that happens I move toward the fear by bringing my awareness to my body. I notice where I’m feeling the fear, such as shallow breath and a tight stomach. Then I name the feeling, saying, “I feel scared.” No spin, no story, simply, “I feel scared.” I begin to breath more easily. (This works with anger and sadness as well).

Next I bring loving kindness to the fear, my compassionate witness talks to the fear, saying, “I know that you’re scared. It’s okay to feel scared. This is scary. I’m here with you. I love you. I’ll take good care of you.” More breath and more expansion happen. I’m now ready to TAG myself, affirming Trust, Acceptance, and Gratitude and I expand even more.

IT IS WHAT IT IS

One of my greatest learning in all this is to accept that this is what’s happening. Accepting isn’t giving up, it’s coming into harmony with what is. It’s letting go of the contractive energy of regret and resistance (secondary suffering), and coming into the expansive energy of surrender. That expansive energy leads to a state of grace where guidance and solutions appear. It’s a state of flow where everything I need comes to me. It’s a state of wholeness and oneness with all that is. It’s a state of being where healing can happen. The words healing, health, holy and wholeness all have the same root.

THE HEALING POWER OF PLAY

Singing, dancing, laughing and smiling creates endorphins, enhances the immune system and puts us in an expansive state. Reverend Michael Beckwith says that praying and playing are the same energetic. Chinese healer Chunyi Lin advocates that smiling generates healing love energy. He has a great acronym for SMILE:  Starting My Internal Love Engine.

Play is also a powerful shift tool when we’re stuck in negative patterns. When I notice my cynical attitude is taking over, I play with it! I give it a name, Cynny, and I exaggerate her grousing, I let her rip! This brings her out of the shadows, into the light, into wholeness, and I expand into the playful, prayful state of grace. Plus, it’s just plain fun!

THIS ETERNAL NOW MOMENT

Knowing that my time here may be limited has galvanized me into the present moment. I want to be fully alive while I am alive, fully here and now. I’m seeing the world through present-moment baby eyes, brand new, drinking it all in. Tom and I look into each other’s eyes, really seeing each other, feeling the eternity of the present moment. When I find myself thinking about the future and worrying, I affirm, “Present moment, only moment.” When I’m fully in the present, time actually expands and it’s beautiful. In truth, right now is all there is. I am here now.

It is such an honor and so gratifying to me that you are reading these newsletters and that they may be of help to you in some way. It was a thrill to be on the radio, for the same reason. I truly feel that I am right where I’m supposed to be. I am doing my soul’s work. This moment is perfect just as it is.

In Love,

Jan Jacobsen

P.S.

Here is the link to the radio interview http://www.netbriefings.com/event/auracolors/Archives/radioshow/index.html

You can also access it by going to Pamala’s website, Auracolors.com, click on Radio Show, then Archives, then Podcast.

There is a wealth of other wonderful archived interviews with fascinating people such as Kenny Loggins, Gay and Katie Hendricks, Dr. Bruce Lipton, Swami Beyondananda, Mike Dooley, Dan Millman, Barbara Marx Hubbard, Terry Cole-Whitaker, Ceasar Millan and many more. I listened to several yesterday as I was getting a blood transfusion (for severe anemia) and it put me in an expanded state. Pamala is very personable and an excellent interviewer who brings out the best and the depth in people.

This waiting period has been a bit of a roller coaster ride. I’ve found myself fully in the Now at times, and at other times in the future where I sometimes imagine the worst and sometimes imagine the best. It’s been difficult to think positive at times when I feel uncomfortable in my body, feeling my innards scorched by the radiation, feeling queasy and fatigued from chemo.

Right now I’m in a place of willingness – I am willing to be present with whatever comes up. I am willing to feel whatever feelings are here. I am willing to experience complete healing. I am willing to experience death. I am willing. What got me to this place was the realization that a part of me was NOT willing, a part of me was resisting and resenting.

Recently a friend of mine, who is very in touch with her light, has been exploring her shadows (those disowned parts of herself). She never thought she had shadows, so this is a new exploration for her. I started looking at how I see so clearly her shadows and her resistance to them, and I wondered if she was reflecting back to me something in myself that I’ve been resisting. As I told her, I believe that if it’s in your life then it’s in you. The people in our lives that push our buttons and stir our judgments are mirroring back to us our disowned parts. How nice of them! The goal is wholeness – owning all our parts makes us whole.

I told my friend that a strong indicator that someone is reflecting back to us our disowned feelings is if we feel victimized by them (anger is often cleverly disguised as “victim”). As I explored this in myself, I was not aware of feeling victimized by anybody in my life, but I affirmed, “I am willing to see my shadows. I am willing to see every part of me. I am willing to be whole.” Just then it came to me…I don’t feel victimized by any body in my life…just my OWN body. I realized there is a part of me that feels let down by my body, disappointed, sad, mad and scared. I did everything I could to be healthy, I ate well, took supplements, felt my feelings, connected with my spirit, loved myself and others, and yet I got cancer. Now I’ve been resisting taking supplements, thinking, what good did it do me? I’m seeing my cynicism, seeing that my surly Cynny persona has been operating from the shadows.

As I connect with the feeling of being betrayed by my body, I let myself cry and feel the disappointment and sadness, I let the emotions move through me, ventilating my feelings. I welcome my cynicism and disappointment and sadness to the party, I invite them out of the shadows into the light, and I feel lighter, I feel whole.

I’ve found that the best way to anchor myself in this place of wholeness, this place of openness and willingness to feel it all and be one with it all, is to ‘TAG’ myself. I created the acronym and practice over a year ago when I first discovered I had cancer. It goes like this:

TAG – Trust, Acceptance, & Gratitude

I TRUST that I am loved, guided and watched over. I trust that things happen for a reason. I trust that my life is purposeful. I trust that everything will work out.

I ACCEPT that this is what’s happening. It is what is. I breathe and allow it to be. This moment is perfect just as it is. I surrender to it. I become one with it.

I feel GRATITUDE for the many blessings in my life: my loving friends and family, my fellow journeyers (you) and learning buddies, my wonderful husband Tom. I am grateful for this opportunity to cultivate more awareness, love, trust, and wholeness in my life. I am grateful that I remember that this is what is most important to me.

I feel scared to hear what my doctor has to say tomorrow. But I am willing to be present, to breathe, feel my fear, and face whatever life presents to me. I am willing.

P.S.
It is the next day and I just got back from my exam. The doctor said that there is still something there and it’s about the same size that the last CT scan showed. The tumor shrunk to a quarter it’s original size, but apparently did not shrink any more in the remaining weeks of treatment. He said that there’s still a possibility that it could shrink more…or not. It could also grow back…or not. He suggested we wait and see and keep an eye on it. I don’t foresee any further treatment. So here I am, willing to be here one breath at a time. I think I’ll go have a good cry, eat some chocolate, and then TAG myself.

In Trust, Acceptance and Gratitude,
Jan

That is a great illustration that how we choose to think about things affects our sense of wellbeing. It inspired me to focus on what I’m grateful for on this cancer journey, and I’d like to share some of it with you in this update.

About two weeks ago I had a CT scan which showed that my tumor is responding to treatment. After four weeks, the 2” x 3” tumor shrunk to one fourth its original size. It’s gone from an egg to a grape. That is good news!

I am also grateful that for the last 2 weeks I haven’t had chemo because my blood counts have been low. I needed a break from the relentless nausea and I got it. I’m using this reprieve to eat better, exercise more, and fortify my body.

This treatment could have been far worse. I haven’t lost any hair! I haven’t had to take narcotics as they’d said I might — Ibuprofen is handling the pain and discomfort.

I’m grateful that I’m in the homestretch — there is just three more days of radiation treatment (and possibly one more chemo session, depending on my blood count). During these weeks of treatment, time has crawled like a snail. Now there is an end in sight. Yay!

Occasionally the fear comes up for me, what if this doesn’t work? The doctor said that if the tumor doesn’t completely disappear, it will grow back. When this fear appears, I’ve been doing the only thing I have control over — I’ve been training myself to come into the present. Throughout the day I say to myself, “Present moment, only moment.” It is a blessing to be strengthening my ability to be fully present in the moment. It’s a goal of mine in this lifetime, and feels like a huge accomplishment.

I am grateful for Tom who is taking such good care of me, and also himself and not letting himself become burned out. I am grateful for friends and family and the people who have been on this journey with me, giving me so much love and support. Thank you!

I feel blessed that my cancer experience is of service to some people, like my friend who put her loss into perspective and was able to let it go. People have told me that it has reminded them that life is precious and has inspired them to get more focused on what it is they’re here to do, and what it is they really want. I feel honored and grateful to be of service in this way.

I am counting my many blessings. I am Here and Now. I am happy to be alive. There’s always someone who has it worse off than us. My heart fills with compassion for them, and gratitude that I’m not them! It’s all relative.

How about you? Counted your blessings lately? They really are plentiful when we look for them.

In Love,
Jan Jacobsen

Several of us who were in the waiting room witnessing this human drama gave each other knowing smiles. How many of us have had, or still have, a child inside of us screaming the same thing, “Noooooo! I don’t want this! Get me out of here!”

Her mother and the nurse were wrangling with her, telling her, “Emmy, just sit still, don’t be scared, it will be over soon.” I wanted to tell them, “Move toward the fear. Tell her you know how scared she is. Tell her it’s okay to be scared. Meet her where she is.”

I had a wonderful private phone counseling session yesterday with Mary-Margaret Moore, who channeled the Bartholomew books in the 80’s and 90’s, books that bring me more comfort and feelings of expansiveness than any other books I’ve ever read. With heartfelt compassion she counseled me to move toward my fears and pain and not resist them, to simply rest in them for a while, to just show up with whatever is happening, to stop efforting, stop trying to be elsewhere, even in a “higher” place, because, to paraphrase Bartholomew, “You are already there, and once you effort you have lost that place.”

In the session I got in touch with a painful belief that I have done something wrong; I’ve screwed up; I wasn’t relaxed enough to keep the cancer monster away. As much as I have felt empowered by the belief that my thoughts and feelings create my reality, there is a downside to that belief, a blaming and shaming of what I have manifested, what I have created. Mary-Margaret asked me to question that belief, is that true? Did I create it? Can I know that for sure?

The only thing I can know for sure is that cancer is here. Chemo and radiation are here. Nausea is here. I am here. When I stop questioning, resisting, and wanting it to be different, then I land on it — I show up, I come into harmony with this reality. Breathing and resting in what’s happening, no matter what it is, is the portal to the spacious NOW. Kicking and screaming and resisting, like little Emmy, is what creates most of the suffering, just as arguing with and resisting Emmy’s fear only compounded it.

When I come to that place of accepting my worst fears, when I stop resisting them and, instead, rest in them, I experience that it is not as bad as my mind had imagined. I used to think I would rather die than have persistent nausea. But when I rest in it and breathe with it, it’s not so bad. I am showing up with the throwing up. It’s not fun, but it’s not horrendous either. It just is. I feel a stillness as I surrender to it.

I am actually doing this cancer, chemo, radiation, nausea thing. I am doing it (and if I can do it, anyone can, though I hope you never have to). There is a beautiful song by Joan Jacobs that repeats two words melodically over and over again throughout the song, “I surrender, I surrender, I surrender.” I am singing that song.

When tear-streaked little Emmy finally came out of her torture chamber and walked by all of us compassionate witnesses in the waiting room, I wanted to reach out and hug her. Instead, I am hugging my own inner child who wants to resist reality, and I’m telling her, “I know this is scary. It’s okay to feel scared. I’m sorry this is happening. I love you.” She feels heard, she breathes, she starts to relax a bit, and to surrender. She shows up. And, to her surprise, she finds that it’s not as bad as her fear had made it up to be.

Is there a part of you that is in pain, a part of you that is kicking and screaming and resisting reality? I invite you to move towards what you’re feeling, meet yourself right where you are, and then give yourself a big hug. How brave we all are to be on this journey!

In Love,
Jan Jacobsen

Today I have landed on an island of solid ground, and reconnected with inspiration and my dream of health, and I ate delicious, nutritious waffles for breakfast! Usually by the weekend, the further away from chemo I get, the better I begin to feel. But chemo rolls around again tomorrow, every Monday, another wave, as I resume my ocean voyage.

Last week I had high hopes for a new anti-nausea pill that I was trying out. I felt a little bit naughty – it’s called Marinol, a synthetic form of marijuana containing THC. It is supposed to improve appetite and reduce nausea (and I was also secretly hoping for a nice mellow high). I’d only smoked marijuana about 3 times in my life, in my twenties, and I didn’t like it – I felt paranoid. Now we were to meet again, legally. I wondered how we would get along.

As I took the pill last Tuesday, I was writing this newsletter. Within minutes I found myself reading the same sentence over and over again, unable to get a grip on it — the Marinol had kicked in! My eyes started spinning like little pinwheels and I quickly shut them. Crap! I was trapped in this dizzy spinning wheel for the duration of the dose. I held perfectly still, eyes clamped shut for 2 to 3 hours, with creative ideas like fireflies flickering in and out, then gone forever. I was dizzy for days afterward — so much for my ‘high’ hopes for this drug.

As I rest on this island of solid ground today, I am taking deep, slow breaths, evoking a natural high, the remembrance and feeling that I am right where I’m supposed to be — simply being still and quiet and resting in this spacious place.

I have been reading my Bartholomew book by Mary Margaret Moore, and I’m reminded that, “We have misidentified ourselves as the clouds, when in fact we are the vast sky.” I am focusing on identifying myself as the sky, and peacefully watching the clouds go by.

Last Monday, as I sat in my 3rd chemotherapy session, I closed my eyes and became the sky, witnessing my inner clouds. What I saw was a lifelong pervasive story of mine that was clouding up, coming up to be healed. When I first enter the chemo room I search for the perfect chair where I can plant myself for the 3-hour intravenous treatment. I want a nice, private area. I don’t want to chat with people, I want to be quiet and read and meditate.

The ‘clouds’ gather as I imagine the nurses watching me and judging me as a difficult, fussy, unsociable patient. Then I witness myself trying to counter their imagined bad opinion of me, trying to be ‘good’, trying not to be a ‘problem’ — in other words, not asking for things I need and want, like a pillow or a blanket or water. I get mad at myself for being such a wuss — why shouldn’t I ask for what I want? That’s what these nurses are here for, to help, right?

I begin to judge the nurses – nobody really looks at me or offers to help, except when the buzzer goes off and they come over and press some buttons and dash away. I watch them chat and joke with friendlier patients. Oh, I AM the problem. Now I am in high school comparing myself to the outgoing, cool kids.

Thoughts come like: Why can’t they meet me where I am? Why can’t they ask how I’m feeling? As I witness my thoughts, I know that I am projecting my story onto the nurses. I am amused at myself as I watch the ‘clouds’ drift by, and I become more and more the observing sky.

In this witnessing place I realize that I AM MEETING MYSELF right where I am — I don’t need the nurses to do that. I am celebrating my quiet nature, my need for privacy and time to reflect and being still. I imagine like-minded friends meeting me in this spacious place. I imagine my husband Tom and all the people who love me just as I am.

I open my eyes and high school and uncaring nurses have disappeared. There are only efficient nurses waiting for me to ask for what I want. I ask and they happily give it to me. These clouds were just wisps of past programming, the old core belief that my very nature is a “problem” for those around me. In the clearness of this vast blue sky, I appreciate that some very fine healing happened at last week’s chemotherapy session.

Tomorrow is Monday, another chemo day. My goal is to anchor myself in the feeling that I am the vast sky, even in the midst of gathering clouds and stormy seas and seasickness. Finding peace within the storm is a challenge that inspires me. It is a dream worth remembering.

What are ways that you re-inspire yourself and remember your dreams in the midst of life’s cloudy skies and stormy seas?

In Love,
Jan Jacobsen

I have felt myself shlumping like an old gray mare this week, suffering with a queasy stomach and no appetite. I’m trying to remember my chemo sabe attitude of last week, but instead I’m feeling chemo sobby — as in boo hoo, this sucks. I don’t want to get stuck in the energy of that old gray (night)mare. But I also don’t want to be “false positive”.

I went to a doctor appointment yesterday, and while in the waiting room I eavesdropped on a concerned father who was talking on his cell phone to his obviously distraught daughter:

“I want you to know I love you very much,” he said to her. “I love all of you, just the way you are, the good and the not so good, every single thing about you I love. It’s okay to cry. Tears are good. Things grow in a wet environment. Let yourself cry all that you want. It’s helping you grow. I am so proud of you. I know this is hard for you, and you’re doing wonderful. Just put one foot in front of the other, one step at time, that’s all you have to do. I love you so very much.”

Tears came to my eyes. He was like an angel father from heaven, talking to her so tenderly, showing how supremely precious she was to him, saying all the things a suffering daughter craves to hear, allowing her to be right where she was. I imagined that he was my angel father speaking to me so lovingly and tenderly. Angels are all around us.

Several years ago, during a ‘dark night of my soul’, feeling down about myself, I prayed for help. At that moment a card, that was displayed on the shelf beside me, floated to the floor. I picked it up and on it was a big rainbow heart, and the words “You are so loved.” That was such a powerful reminder to me that I am not alone, I am being watched over, I am loved. A few weeks ago I taped that card to my mirror so I can see it everyday and be reminded of that.

I am now being an angel to myself, talking to myself in a loving way, like that father talked to his precious daughter. “I love you very much. You are being so brave. You are facing your worst fears. Just take one step at a time, one foot in front of the other. It’s okay to cry. Let it out. You are doing great. I am so proud of you. Know how very loved you are.”

I opened the Pema Chodron book I’ve been reading, “The Places that Scare You”, to this angel-sent quote: “The ‘secret’ of life that we are all looking for is just this: to develop the power and the courage to return to that which we have spent a lifetime hiding from, to rest in the bodily experience of the present moment – even if it is a feeling of being humiliated, of failing, of abandonment, of unfairness.” (Charlotte Joko Beck)

And then laughing angels flipped the book open to this quote, “In the garden of gentle sanity, may you be bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness.” (Chogyan Trungpa Rinpoche). I love that! I am being bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness! “Wake up and love yourself right where you are. Breathe into this moment, allowing, accepting, embracing all that is happening, crying when you need to, and laughing too.”

The funny thing is, as I do this, I begin to breathe and relax, and the queasy feeling becomes a more easy feeling. My resistance to what is happening has created more discomfort and queasiness than the chemo itself. Resistance is a powerful force – and so is acceptance.

Is there something in your life that you’ve been resisting? Is there something that’s been rocking your boat? Be an angel, and love love love yourself just as you are, right where you are.

In Love,
Jan Jacobsen