After a prolonged spell under the grip of “what if’s,” I’ve broken free from the fear ingrained in us about cancer. With time, wisdom, and experience, this fear has transformed into knowledge. My focus has shifted away from “healing,” as I now understand that my body consistently moves towards it. It is the psyche that slows down and relapses the process of healing.
Any underlying resistance towards these lumps has waned, giving way to a deep embrace of their existence and a patient curiosity to delve into the wonder of my biology.
I’ve come to realize that the mind fixates on its own disturbances. Even in moments of tranquility, a single trigger can shatter my world. News of cancer-related deaths used to plunge me into hellish thoughts of a similar fate. Through awareness, I’ve learned that fear rarely springs from evidence; it’s often an escalating construction of stories that we create which subsides when we return to the present. That is why many spiritual traditions emphasize anchoring the mind in the here and now to attain peace and freedom.
By liberating the mental space consumed by this particular fear, I’ve uncovered a newfound capacity to engage with life. Fear confines experiences and taints them with a sense of finality which we have to protect ourselves from. In the wake of traumatic events such as a serious diagnosis, our responses often involve fighting, fleeing, suppressing, or, if we’re mindful, processing the intense energy by letting it go.
It’s inherent in our nature to yearn for safety, and we mold our lives around what makes us feel comfortable. However, the potent energy of fear needs to be processed, otherwise it keeps showing up whenever it is triggered. It may morph into various scenarios, yet its core remains rooted in that initial trauma.
Fear becomes a reference point for the mind as we navigate life ahead. We unwittingly design our lives around avoiding undesirable emotions and clinging to pleasurable ones, missing the inherent choice to embrace the present as a passing experience.
Our personalities often evolve to shield us from unresolved matters, even biologically according to GNM. I’ve previously detailed how trauma impacts the brain, psyche, and body in my blogs on GNM. External triggers revive stored experiences, prompting programmed responses that ensures safety—be it anxious thoughts or abnormal cell behaviour.
All emotional states can be traced back to either love or fear. Within these realms reside a spectrum of feelings. Fear breeds insecurity, lack, anxiety, depression, greed, longing and other dense vibrational frequencies. Love is our intrinsic nature, it encompasses compassion, fulfillment, happiness, peace, joy, and connection—all operating within light energetic frequencies. That is why we yearn for all expressions of love.
My lumps are undergoing a shift in behaviour; to me, this signals a positive transformation—from unchanging masses to sharp, throbbing entities tinged with deep purple. They are moving, changing shape, and altering their quality. They seem eager to burst free from my skin, and the strong sensations make their presence known.
While these sensations can be intense, I find excitement in their confirmation of what I’ve learned. This excitement can only arise from the absence of fear.
My practice is to subdue and override sharp sensations by focusing my mind on the world around me and engaging with it without succumbing to fear.
I make an effort to avoid using the word “pain” to prevent falling into a victim mentality and the drama that my mind can easily create. I’m my own cheerleeder saying “let’s do this! I’ve got this, I’m ready, and thank you! ” Every moment is a choice in how I want to respond to life. That is the meaning of free will. I’ve embarked on a lifelong practice to stay on the path to all that love has to give.
LESSON: LET IT GO!
This blog was inspired by the teachings of Michael Singer’s brilliant book “The Untethered Soul.”
“Forgiveness”- painting by Maasa
LESSONS FROM MY LUMP 