
We all receive different gifts, you just may not know yet what yours will be.
Recently, my uncle took me aside at a family gathering. He is a survivor of prostate and testicularcancer. He just had his second go-around with chemo, radiation and other treatments at age sixty. His first time was thirty years ago. He said, “You know, we all get gifts from going through cancer. Cancer is different from other illnesses.” He explained to me how he was significantly “smarter,” and more intelligent. Basically, he felt he had achieved much more in his career over the past thirty years because of having gone through treatment for cancer. He had a totally different outlook and his personality was different. Lou said to me: “We all receive different gifts, you just may not know yet what yours will be.”

My surgeon, a Hodgkins Lymphoma survivor, diagnosed her first year in medical school, related a similar story to me. She said her personality was different and the cancer journey had changed it. She said I would get gifts too, and explained that it might sound odd, but that I would.
Steve Jobs also alluded to gifts he received from his cancer journey, and during his Stanford speech, related:
“Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:
“No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.”
Steve Jobs’ gifts were many and hard to count. His global and human impact, immeasurable. His perspective on life, death, living, working and creating were so profoundly impacted by his journey with cancer; these words are precious from someone who has walked into the space of acknowledging death, discomfort, and cancer.
Some might even argue that his three greatest and most innovative contributions occurred after his diagnosis — the iPad, iPhone and the MacBook Air.
And for myself, I always saw the cancer as a teacher, a teacher that you ask to leave your body, but a teacher nonetheless. I was married in October 2010, and diagnosed in January 2011. I learned very quickly that I married the right partner with whom to journey through cancer and treatment. I didn’t step into a supermarket for four months, because Chris, my husband, did every single errand on my list for me. He did it joyfully, and at the end, climbed into bed with me and did Reiki on my belly. I never would have seen this part of him without this experience in both of our lives. Our relationship deepened dramatically.
There were others who magically appeared as if on divine appointment to assist me with essential components of my life affairs and healing. Their presence was simply healing and cathartic. I also learned how to let go and when I needed to let certain folks, or issues go from my life, they simply fell away. I lost over forty-five pounds since I was diagnosed. I let food go.

I would sit in my body while it felt weak, debilitated, and in total pain, knowing that it was just a part of the journey, just as feeling great and strong is part of the journey. As an athlete, body worker, yogi and Kapha, my endurance was high level. I rarely was injured, and recovered rapidly.
Getting winded walking up a flight of stairs (side effect of chemo drugs) and losing my appetite, struggling withneuropathy, were all physical challenges that my surgeon likened to a type of endurance training akin to that of a high performance athlete, but slightly different. I concur.
It is still so difficult to meditate on your physical pain and be present with that while it is going on. And many people around you may not be able to handle your “constant” pain or understand that you are just not able to relate with them while you are in such a state. However, as long as you have one, two, or three special people who are able to hold that space, their compassion could be likened to a precious nectar of life. Every little drop keeps you going.
After my fourth chemo, I began to head into what I call “no man’s land,” a place where you feel the split in the road – one side leads to health and life, the other to death and decay. It’s a scary place to be and the only thing you can tell yourself when you’re there is — here’s what I’m going to do when I’m ready to get out of this damn bed and dream of all the trips you will take, all the beautiful places you will visit and all the dreams you will accomplish when you are no longer sitting in the grips of cancer. Let that frustration, anger, disappointment and possible fear, motivate you to kick some serious ass when you are ready to begin taking baby steps toward some of your new goals.
Chemo and cancer changed my personality by deepening my level of seriousness and integrity in life. My time is precious, and I want to make the most of every minute. Goodbye laziness, goodbye complacency. See you later excuses. Hello commitment, passion, desire for achievement, focus, perception, consciousness and compassion (that’s a big one). Goodbye fear. (When you’re stuck in a bed with pain and exhaustion, and you really, really want to write to that friend you’ve been thinking about but have no energy to type, or think, compassion is a word that comes to mind.) How many times have you gotten frustrated at someone else for not doing something? Realize that there are some deep factors going on for other people that holds them back from doing certain things (physical or emotional) and welcome compassion.
Many don’t understand when you’re in no man’s land, and your fingernails are falling off (Literally! And you usually work with your hands!) that there is something very pivotal happening with the way your perception is being bent, twisted, shaped, challenged and opened, allowing you to grasp essentials and discard anything but what you need to be a streamlined machine of love and compassion with a mission. No more resentment, no more bitterness, no more discouragement, no more anger. In my journey, it’s clear that letting these things go must happen because they are the manure to grow the karmic seeds of “dis”-ease.
Could I say I’m smarter now? Definitely! Wiser in the human sense, absolutely! Wiser about disease process and healing — yes! Wiser about the hooks, or Shenpa (as Pema Chodron might refer to them) and how they are being dissolved by the power and magnitude of facing death – lying in bed gives you a lot of time to reflect on what parts of yourself you could adapt to burn old karma. And my fear of death is so much diminished now after the chemo, radiation, and surgery. I feel like I took a journey in that direction and now I’m so much less afraid of loss and of my own transitions and journey. I trust that my traveller will introduce themselves when I am ready.
But for now, I’m ready for two lifetimes worth of work in one lifetime. You will find me in a swirl of energy and creation, wanting to contribute, and give something that matters. I have gained a new gift/skill I did not have before, which was being able to tell others to nicely fuck-off when I had no interest in partaking in their drama.

The gifts of cancer are many, and uncovered to me on a daily basis. These gifts facilitate a more profound and precious consciousness state than I could have ever imagined on my journey. Cancer and cancer treatment is just a state, like other forms of Buddhist dialogue and theory. Really, one can find and make treasures in any state of this human existence. How beautiful and liberating to always have a choice, even if that choice is — what will I drink or eat today, or telling someone that you love them.
Excuses go away. Welcome Enlightenment.
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Jessica Stone Baker is a compassionate practitioner who believes in trusting and listening to the wisdom of your own body. Her bodywork integrates the concepts of Ayurveda, Yoga, and Zen Shiatsu as well as Western concepts of anatomy and body systems to meet the client exactly where they are in the moment. As an Ayurvedic practitioner, she has tremendous respect for the vastness of the Ayurvedic system of medicine. Jessica is on a path of continuous learning as a bodyworker and a healer and she is a proponent of wellness in one’s own life through self-empowerment and education. She enjoys the unique learning and awareness that takes place with each client.
Jessica is also a breast cancer survivor and she is pleased to share her personal experiences to assist others in self-education, or for those who are going through similar circumstances. She integrates her personal journey into practice by emphasizing a greater compassion for the life condition of all human beings in the mind, body and spirit. You can read more about her at www.amindfulbody.com.