Yesterday I went to the ER after experiencing increasing pain in my liver. After a nine hour visit I was told by a very sad doctor that I have cancer. The CT showed:
These are both metastic, meaning that they aren’t the origin of the cancer, so this is spread. This is not a good sign, it means I didn’t catch it early and I still don’t know where it’s originating from.
Today I prepared for the time ahead. Tomorrow I meet with an oncologist.
This happened very fast. Given that it happened so fast, I’m making decisions about what may be the rest of my life pretty fast as well.
I’m Buddhist. Have been for some time.
Buddhism is what has allowed me to be present with my family, especially my children. In fact, something that drove me toward Buddhism was a single moment, when Kora was less than a year old, and I realized that I enjoyed this simple process of bathing my daughter more than any of the things I ever strived for, and yet, I couldn’t still my mind more than 30 second to really enjoy it. I had begun to practice, but that moment sent me head first into Buddhism.
People that know me know how I “get in to things” pretty intensely. I’ve aquired a long list of often useful skills and knowledge because of this, but since that moment the main thing I was “in to” has been Buddhism and my family. I already know how computers work, and working with them kept me keen in that skill, but the rotating arrangement of hobbies and side projects narrowed to one: Buddhism.
There is a lot of Buddhism, and for a while I tried to devour all of it, until I read enough to realize that such gluttony is not very Buddhist.
But being a household, having a regular job and the kinds of responsibilies that stack up for a 41 year old adjult, I have never had much opportunity for extended practice. Even long sits have been difficult to arrange, but I never let this dampen my determination. I fit Dharma into all the spaces that could be filled, and I sat wherever and whenever for however long I could find such space. Today, I often sit full lotus on the ground without a cushion or mat because such things are hard to come by in most circumstances. But I can’t sit for long, and as cancer and the treatments of cancer effect my body I don’t know how long or in which positions I’ll be able to continue.
This last Sunday, only a few days before this diagnosis, I had the opportunity to visit Green Gulch Zen Center and have a proper sit during their public service. In moments when I achieved the posture, my body was not in pain and felt light. Afterward, I told my family that I would be making the effort to attend those services on a weekly basis.
When I received new of my cancer I began to consider how I should live in order to heal, and how I should if I am not to live for much longer. That answer to both was the same. I should live a life of practice.
My family means the world to me, but in death i will no longer have the world or a family. This is what Buddhism is often preparing people for, and also allowing for each moment one spends in the world to be one of presence.
I know what it is like to be present with my family, and when I return from the hospital I was anything but present, and had a hard time imagining how to be present.
When confronted with death, most people would choose to spend all their time with those they are most attached to, and who are most attached to them, in order to make full use of these moments. But to me, a moment without presence is a well wasted moment, I want to be fully present when i’m with my family.
So I’ve decided to live a little differently from now on.
I’ll need to be travelling to see doctors, receive imaging and treatment, and all sorts of other things. For many years I lived a substantial period of the year “on the road” travelling to conferences and other remote work events. When the work and the confing stopped, I would often wander around without a destination in mind, taking in wherever I was and decided what to do, where to eat, even where to stay, and it appeared.
When a Buddhist chooses to become a monk it is often called “leaving the home.” I have not decided to become a monk, but I have decided to stay in communties of practice and other temporary shelters where I will bring practice with me. I will make arrangements to see my family as often as I can for high quality time together in which I can be truly present.
What will I do? Where will I stay?
Whever I go, I will practice Buddhism. I certainly won’t be return to “work” any time soon.
I will translate sutras and help prepare the excellent translations of my teacher. I will sit, I will even work in place that work as a for of practice, as many places do.
Tonight, Green Gulch has a room for me, so that’s where I am.
When I need a car, I’ll rent one. If I don’t have a place to stay that is practicing Buddhism, I’ll bring my practice to wherever I am. I’ll see my family whenever I can and make it to my appointments on time, but I won’t be pulled around by my calendar like a dog on a leash as I’ve done for so many years.
As many Buddhists do , I will give away most of my possessions, although there isn’t that much to give since I’ve been pairing down for a long time now. I won’t spend more than necessary, so that the money we have can go to treatment and my family.
And I’ll be writing this diary.
I haven’t been as public as I once was for many years now. I couldn’t handle the negativity and since I was mostly doing Buddhism I didn’t have a bunch of cool open source things to share all the time. But I’ve met a lot of people over the years, and I’ve come to realize that many of these people do still care about me in the way that we all care about friends we haven’t seen or talked to in a while. I don’t have another way to share with them or keep in touch, so this is it.
It also saves me the hasle of calling all my family and friends and updating them :)
Today I got really used to telling people “i have cancer.” At the pharmacy, when I’m trying to get the person behind the counter to fix another’s mistake, immediate empathy if you explain that the situation involves you having cancer. And the moment you make even the lightest joke or smile it relieves all their tension and they become joyfull because “if he’s smiling and enjoying himself then what am I doing?”
Green Gulch is not the kind of place people walk in to unannounced on a Wednesday morning, but that’s what I knew I needed to do.
I entered the bookshop in the welcome center and spoke with the first person I saw. I explained the situation and said that I’d like to stay here as much as I can for a long as I can, but I don’t know how long that will be or even if that’s possible.
He spoke with the Abbot and invited me for Dinner. Before dinner he showed me a bit of their schedule, and explained the various conditions under which someone can stay here. Staying tonight wasn’t an option, but there we other possibilies and we talked them through.
I ate dinner, met some new people and connected with a few people I had met on Sunday. Before leaving I decided to have another cup of tea and read the bulletin board. After I had finished he saw me and said that he just found out they did have a room open tonight.
If I had been in a hurry to leave and find a hotel, not saving space to take things in and enjoy a tea, I wouldn’t be in the wonderful place tonight.
Note: I’ve excluded names because I’m not sure how comfortable many people are with me writing about them, but they do have names and I know their names :)