Signs and synchronicities

 

 

 

 

 

I have always been fascinated by so-called coincidences and signs that seem to arrive at just the right time. Of course, when something is on our mind a lot, we are bound to notice it more when it seems to pop up randomly everywhere. But I firmly believe that the energy of our thoughts has the ability to attract similar energies - see quantum physics (though I am wary of some of the rather arrogant Law of Attraction claims - that we can manifest anything and if we don’t, it’s our own fault).

Ever since I started Joe Dispenza’s meditations, I have been acutely aware of signs and synchronicities and attuned to their presence; he talks about it a lot, and some of his meditations include actively choosing an object or animal or symbol and waiting to see whether it appears in your life shortly after (there are some incredible testimonials on Youtube about this). And too much has happened in my own life than can be explained away rationally. Here are just four examples that hold special meaning for me:

Kaleidoscopes // At the end of 2019 I had been doing Joe Dispenza’s kaleidoscope meditations, including a live stream. They required you to keep your eyes open and gaze into kaleidoscopic patterns in order to get into a trance.

Then, when I travelled to Germany for Christmas, my aunt told me that the museum she volunteers in had an exhibition of… kaleidoscopes! I had never seen the elaborate machines before and had only been familiar with the handheld ones we had as kids. So kaleidoscopes had not really featured in my life, and suddenly I found myself in a museum in my hometown surrounded by them, in the wake of doing kaleidoscope meditations.

The lost diamond // Another thing happened around the time I returned to work following my cancer treatment: I lost the middle diamond on my engagement ring on one of the first days I was out and about in the world again. I had been in work and passed through a lot of places on campus; I had run several errands, so would have visited shops, walked around town, etc.; I had been pottering around the house and out in the garden. So when I looked down at the dashboard while driving home and spotted the empty part of the ring on my hand, I knew there were numerous places I could have lost it.

A couple of days later I was teaching my Saturday class. At one point I told one of the women about the lost diamond. After my students had left, I tidied and locked up, but then I suddenly remembered that the cleaners would be in before Monday and felt I should at least spend some time searching the room. A tiny diamond in the art room was akin to the proverbial needle in a haystack – the room and store room were far from tidy (a lot of the groups that use the room leave out their stuff). That week there must have been crafts activities, as the dirt on the paint-splattered floor included glitter and, of all things, the odd plastic diamond! So when, after seconds of scanning the floor, my eyes fell on a shiny diamond in the spot where I had been standing telling my story to that woman, I thought it was one of the fake diamonds. But closer inspection revealed that it had the exact right shape, and it sparkled in a way that the plastic ones didn’t. I couldn’t believe it.

I took it to the jeweller’s John had bought it from, and he showed me that a tiny chunk had broken off – something that can happen when you knock the ring against a hard surface. Because it was the part of the diamond that was set into the ring, he was able to put it back in securely, and the damage is not visible.

John had chosen the ring because he liked the idea of the three stones symbolising the three sisters, in addition to the other meanings. I am the middle sister, so when he found out about the broken middle diamond, he said it was me with part of my lung removed, but still here and stronger than before.

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Dog’s nose // In February 2020 I had another respiratory infection (a souvenir from the cancer treatment - I had had several bouts of those, sitting up at night coughing, but this was one of the hardest ones to shake) and was feeling low; it was one of those times when the weight of my diagnosis hit me. We were dogsitting for our neighbours that week. A few days before that I had found a postcard on the floor of the car with a black dog’s nose and a dragonfly on it. It must have fallen out of the bag of images that I usually keep in the art room but had taken home for another class – a mixture of cuttings from magazines, cards, calendar photos, etc. for inspiration. Now  I found myself crying in the kitchen, and the dog came up to me and put her head on my lap. The rest of her was hidden by the table, so looking down I could only see her nose, and it looked exactly like the dog’s nose on the card that had been in the car.

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Ladybirds // My talisman has always been the ladybird. After my diagnosis, my younger sister started sending me ladybird-themed things, including a book she created with contributions from friends and family in Germany that she had glued a wooden ladybird on. Because of those gestures of hers, I had been thinking of ladybirds and willing them to appear when we watched an episode of ‘The Good Place’ - and lo and behold, in that episode giant ladybirds were falling from the sky in the afterlife. It was like the Universe was giving me an unmistakeable sign.

And they continued to show up in unexpected ways, both here and in my sister's world. And it extended further - one day I had coffee with a friend and told her about the ladybirds, and later that day she sent me a photo: she had got home and found a ladybird earring at the bottom of her handbag that she had no recollection of putting in there.

[About a year ago I submitted a much shorter version of this to Agradecida y Poderosa (a young woman who had stage IV cancer and posts about healing and her lifestyle – I found her through our shared interests in complementary therapies) for her series ‘Tu poderosa historia’ on Instagram. There are a lot of similar stories by other patients (all in Spanish).]

 

Healing tools

 

 

Healing can be a full-time job, though I don't like to think of it as work. But for various reasons I haven’t been able to stick to all of my routines over the past few months, so the following - incomplete - list is for those who are interested in the tools I have been using in my recovery from stage III cancer and also a gentle reminder to myself. And of course these are not exclusively for cancer patients, nor do you have to have been sick to use these. They are for 'general maintenance' as well as active healing.

First of all, I should state that I underwent the standard conventional cancer treatments and remain under the care of my oncologist, with frequent surveillance scans. I am lucky to still be in remission and aware how precarious a state that is after the type and stage of cancer I had, and I would never advocate for using alternative treatments at the expense of medical care; I very much put my faith in a combination of conventional and complementary therapies. Everyone has to find what feels right for them. Some patients are happy to be in the hands of their consultants and don't explore other options, and that is their choice and valid, too.

When you do a lot of different things, it is hard to pinpoint which individual elements work, and it may well be the mix (and there is no prescribed formula). While I cannot claim that any of this is curative, I have personally experienced miracles along the way, in particular with the complementary therapies (for example feeling vibrant and strong after a session I had walked into depleted and weak from chemoradiation).

Also, I believe (and my history is an example of this, as I was doing all the right things prior to my diagnosis of lung cancer at the age of 34) that you can have the perfect healthy lifestyle in terms of diet and exercise, but if there is unresolved trauma, grief or similar chronic stress, those physical, matter-to-matter aids can only do so much to prevent dis-ease. That is why energy healing is so important to me. Of course a lot of the physical tools go beyond the physical, too, so none of the below are easy to categorise.

Diet: I have always had a healthy diet, but after my diagnosis I became 95% vegan (I eat eggs every now and again - we have our own hens - and occasionally have milk, cheese and yogurt). The main aim food-wise has been to incorporate as many vegetables (and fruit, but to a lesser extent, because of the sugar content) as possible - more than the 5-a-day, a low number adjusted to the Western way of eating - and mainly eat unprocessed organic food and no refined sugar. We grow some of our own food and get an organic box delivered.

I bought a juicer before I got my full diagnosis - it was one of the things I did in those awful weeks of waiting for test results that helped me feel a bit more empowered and not completely helpless. I started with a lot of carrot juice, but then switched to greens and have been making mostly green juices since, as well as smoothies. For a while I was drinking celery juice every morning (see Medical Medium, though I don’t agree with everything he says) and plan to take it up again in the spring.

Supplements – I know many patients take an array of supplements, but I didn’t want to get into too strict a regime, and I generally feel we should get most nutrients via food if possible. It can be overwhelming to navigate the huge selection of supplements and the claims made about them, and with all my choices I try to balance adopting helpful habits with not putting pressure on myself (which would create more stress). Having said that, I have tried a few supplements: CBD oil and turmeric were recommended to me by a healer early on. I haven’t taken the CBD oil in a while, but try to add turmeric to meals as much as I can or take the capsules. A friend gave me a bottle of Essiac when I was waiting for test results, and my sister has been making the concoction for me ever since. Again, it is something I haven’t kept up, but may return to. I also take B-vitamins or a multivitamin and certain minerals when needed.

Sea-swimming: I started doing this regularly again this year, and I think that in addition to retreating from the world (largely due to COVID) this was the reason I haven't had any colds or the flu since - after recurrent respiratory infections following my treatment and especially since my return to work. And that is just one of its physical benefits - swimming in the sea has been amazing on so many levels and is a spiritual practice in its own right.

Walking and running: I like exercising on my own, but I did Parkrun once a month (with a group from our local cancer centre, led by the resident physiotherapist) before it had to be cancelled due to the restrictions and trained in the gym of the Cancer Centre once a week. I also joined a running group with my neighbour. All those activities are on pause at the moment. This year I did more walking than running and tried to get in as many forest walks (to add in forest bathing) as possible.

Strength training: I bought dumbbells for the exercises I was given to prepare for surgery and now do short workouts with them at least once a week. During chemo I lost weight (when I had already been underweight) and my muscles dwindled alarmingly, and I will never take strong arms and legs for granted. Using weights makes me feel strong physically and mentally.

Acupressure mat: I got one this year, and it is a game changer. Thousands of spikes apply pressure to the skin and muscles, targeting a lot of acupressure points simultaneously. The effect is deeply relaxing, like having a massage. I use it on my back and on my feet and sometimes rolled up under my neck, but you can use it for other parts of the body as well. John loves it, too.

Yoga: My main yoga practice is hatha and yin yoga, for deep healing, but I also do some other classes (all via Youtube or with the help of books).

Yoga Nidra: Something I had done occasionally, but this year I made it a regular practice, with this video my healer sent me.

Meditation: A friend and seasoned meditator introduced me to Natural Stress Relief meditation, and it has replaced the Joe Dispenza meditations I had been doing (though I do want to get back to those as well). It is similar to Transcendental Meditation. Ideally you do two sessions of at least 15-20 minutes per day. I find focusing on the mantra (in this case one syllable) helps quieten the chatter in my brain and easily gets me into a trance-like state. 

Ho’oponopono: Somebody gave me a printout with this Hawaiian prayer years ago and it had been sitting in one of my folders. Whenever I came across it I was intrigued, but only this year, again with a nudge from my healer, I started practising it properly. I also like to listen to one of Sandra Rolus's videos with repetitions of the prayer that you can fall asleep to.

Aromatherapy: Frankincense has anticancer properties, and it has become my number one essential oil – I put it in the diffuser during yoga and meditation. I also use a lot of other oils, depending on what I need or feel like, and I always have a bottle of lavender oil in my bag.

Deep breathing: I do Wim Hof's exercises and use the 4-7-8 technique as described by Andrew Weil in Spontaneous Healing - breathe in on a count of 4, hold for 7, breathe out on a count of 8, and do this for about five minutes (my hypnotherapist is also a big fan of 4-7-8 breathing). Since reading James Nestor’s Breathe, I have also started taping my mouth to encourage nasal breathing, and I try to slow down my breathing to five or six breaths per minute whenever I think of it.

Hypnotherapy, visualisations, counselling, energy healing: I had a couple of sessions with my RTT therapist Rachel Gotto and continue to use her customised audio recordings. She has also become my mentor and I schedule Zoom calls with her when I feel the need. A friend who is also a hypnotherapist guided me through visualisations and I use her recordings as well. I regularly see the psycho-oncology counsellor at our cancer centre (a free service) and have calls with a mentor and friend. I do ongoing work with divine clearing therapist and 'spiritual midwife' Dr. Yvonne Murphy (a recommendation from a friend who also had cancer). Other healers who have helped me a lot include Jeff McInerney and faith healer Aidan Wrynne. [I will do a separate post on these real-life healers and therapists and all the teachers and authors I follow.]

I have also tried EFT and do the Healing Code (a similar technique) on myself and others (my mum still does the Healing Code for me twice a day; she is so good). And sound healing - a friend played her Tibetan bowls on me one day, which was incredible, and I listen to videos with the Hu chant, amygdala healing and other binaural sound therapy and similar.

Purpose: Another topic for a separate post, but one of the key factors in healing, is finding and following your purpose. Of course that is rarely just one thing. For me, painting and drawing is up there (something I had neglected before getting sick), as are family and friends, writing, being of service, and living a simple life, one that aligns with my values.

Gratitude and slowing down: Prioritising what is important, not sweating the small stuff. Being present with whatever is happening and whatever I am doing. A friend gave me a gratitude jar when I was diagnosed, and even on the darkest days I managed to find something to write on one of the coloured pieces of paper, and I make a point of reflecting on things to be grateful for every day.

Doing things that bring joy, relaxation, meaning: All of the above and more. Art, reading, writing (including Morning Pages), gardening, playing and listening to music, conversations, community, being out in nature, walking, sea-swimming, cooking and baking, play and laughter come to mind.

Walking, swimming and Sufjan Stevens

"Going barefoot in nature immediately helps clear your energy. Stepping out onto the sand, putting your feet into the ocean, hugging a tree, all of these clear your energy. Nature is an incredible neutraliser of energy." Anita Moorjani

A lot of my routines have fallen by the wayside. The fatigue has been acting up quite a lot lately and I am technically on holidays, so I took a break from my normal day-to-day, including elements of my healing-from-cancer regime. I am aware that I put a lot of pressure on myself to do all the right things, and that pressure equals stress, which is what 'all the right things' are supposed to ease... I am still trying to find a rhythm that allows me to trust the process and not beat myself up when I fall short of my often unfeasible expectations. 

Exercise is an antidote to fatigue, though I have a tendency to overdo it and then pay for it the following day(s). And sometimes only proper rest will help. But while I haven't touched the dumbbells and haven't done any running for a few weeks, gentle exercise such as walking and swimming has been a salve.

Stripey symphony: My sister and nephews in the Burren - hats made by my sister

 

 

John and I went away for a few days (within Ireland) and did a lot of hiking - since the lockdown walking has become a huge part of our life. In recent weeks I have walked around islands (Cape Clear and Omey Island, Inis Oírr - we cycled around the latter), in forests, on beaches, Greenways, the karst landscape of the Burren, on the loops near our house, 5km along the rocky shoreline to a pub and returning via the coast road. We have walked together (often in silence) and each on our own, with family and friends, with dogs, and with strangers: I took part in a forestbathing session with a lovely group and two wonderful guides and hugged a lot of trees on my personal forestbathing forays.

The old runners I have been wearing in lieu of hiking boots are now falling apart, and on the recommendation of a friend I am tempted to buy a pair of recycled barefoot boots. Feeling the texture of the ground is like a foot massage (I also regularly walk barefoot in the garden or on the beach to ground myself) and the balancing act of walking on a rocky shore or any other uneven surface makes you use different muscles in your legs.

 

I still go swimming in the sea at least twice a week, and it was a joy to explore other beaches and find hidden swimming spots. We took my nephew to Inis Oírr and swam in clear turquoise water. On Cape Clear I waded into the water among rocks covered in shells and emerged with bleeding scrapes all over my legs, from what had felt like lightly brushing against the stones as I floated. I loved even that. Being in cold water makes me feel so alive. 

 

 On the ferry to Inis Oírr

 

I spent the Irish heatwave of 2018 indoors suffering the side effects of aggressive chemotherapy and radiotherapy and unable to handle the hot weather. Last year I stayed covered up (the advice was to do so for a year following radiotherapy) and didn't swim until September. This year I have been exposing the surgery scar on my back and my radiotherapy tattoos with abandon (and SPF 50). Sometimes those souvenirs catch me by surprise when I see them or when my hand touches the scar in the shower - it all still feels unreal - and I marvel at what my body has been able to do since I finished treatment.

 

The soundtrack to these last few months has been at least 50% Sufjan Stevens, an all-time favourite. One of the songs I have been playing on repeat for the past couple of years ("Casimir Pulaski Day") is about remembrance and cancer and I connect with it on so many levels. This concert from 2006 is one I keep returning to. I almost feel I am in the audience when I watch this, and something about the overall aesthetic and the atmosphere - the wings, the uniforms, the group dynamic on stage, and of course the music - gets me every time ("Casimir Pulaski Day" starts at the 6-minute mark).