Gratefulness to the three wonderful men who are guiding me on this journey

This post is as much about gratefulness to the three wonderful men who are guiding me on this journey, as it is meant to bring comfort to anyone fighting disease. May it bring hope to many.

On January 27, I met with Dr. Hemang Parekh in Paris. Dr. Hemang is an Ayurvedic doctor, and I went to him looking for a natural way of healing from cancer, following the advice of two great Lamas, Sherab Gyaltsen Rinpoche, who emphatically told me NOT to take chemotherapy and to follow Ayurveda, and Lama Ole Nydahl, who after listening to what western doctors and Rinpoche were advising, reminded me that a Buddha’s advice is the wisest of all.

Dr. Hemang gave me dietary advises and herbal supplements. He added that some of his patients had been given months to live by western oncologists, and yet they were alive and thriving several years later, because they had simply changed their diet.

I was coming from months of scary meetings with several doctors who all had only one advise to give: chemo! Poison your body or you’ll die. That was the consensus. Still is probably.

The last thing I wanted to do was take more medications. The pain killers they gave me after my double mastectomy had either made me sick or taken me on a confusing mental trip, but none had gotten rid of the pain. I realized I had to make a choice: I could either surrender to the fear the doctors were trying hard to drill into me, or I had to be brave, take all my courage and defy the cancer status quo and follow my intuition.

The leap was not without challenges. I cried so much out of pure fear and despair. I longed for help, for someone to help with research, to hold my hand, hug me, tell me everything will be alright, but I had only myself, a Buddha, and a gentle, quiet, and kind Indian doctor. 

-I needed no one else-

There began a journey of learning to stand up for myself, to make myself my own priority, to care for my body like I didn’t even know was possible.

I always loved to cook, so that made everything easier. I didn’t ease into the new diet, I jumped right in and decided it is possible to heal without chemicals, poisons and all that our poor western doctors (within the limits of their actually budding science) consider lifesaving.

Last Wednesday, I received the results of my last PET Scan, 6 months after my first diagnosis, 4 after my surgery. The results came back negative. In practical terms, this means I am cancer free. 
I don’t know what the future will bring. I am only responsible for what I can do myself, and I assume gladly such responsibility.

Here, you can see a picture of the supplements I take every day. From dr. Hemang I got Pratishakti, to prevent metastasis, 16/day; Fibron to get rid of toxins, 9/day; Metaboost, self-explanatory, 4/day, Chandrikaras, to help with the induced menopause symptoms, 16/day; Brainto, 4/day. I also take 2 capsules of curcumin with black pepper, 1 capsule vitamin D-3, 1 of Indome-3-carbinol (to control hormones), 20 mg CDB and a droplet of CBD oil before bed. 55 pills a day of 100% natural products,  100% meals made with 100% whole, natural, fresh ingredients, meditation and yoga. That’s the only  protocol that makes sense to me.

May all beings be healthy, may those who need to heal do so promptly, may all beings be safe. 

#naturalhealing #ayurveda #buddhism #healing #alreadyhealed #trustyourintuition #trustinspace #yoga #meditation #mybodymydecision 

Be mindful of your words

Yesterday was so beautiful, and warm, I had a short interpretation event around the corner from my house, and after it ended, I couldn't resist a walk in the sunshine. As I was walking home on Andrássy, enjoying the sun and the blue sky, feeling quite invincible, despite everything, I ran into a friend I had not seen in a long time. I was happy to see him, and we chatted for a while.

This friend is very intelligent, and unfortunately has a know-it-all (or know-it-better-than-anybody-else) tendency. I say this to provide context on what happens next.

So naturally, he asked about my health and the treatments I follow. As I informed him of my decision to stop radiation and to not engage in any other "traditional" treatment, he was very surprised. If only he had left it at surprise.... He didn't of course. Instead he went on about what a stupid decision I had taken and went as far as to practically telling me I was going to die because of my choice.

I have had it with this people.

Please understand the following: EVERYONE DESERVES RESPECT. Everyone's decision deserve respect.

The process of decision making when you suffer from a serious disease is excruciating. I cannot even explain how many tears I've cried wondering what to do. I felt completely helpless and abandoned, alone and afraid. Basically, morning was the time to cry. I would wake up, take my supplements and eat breakfast. Then the crushing feeling of uncertainty would attack me, and I would break down and cry, and cry, and cry...

I knew my survival was in my hands. No one to counsel me, no one to sit next to me while I weighted the options. No one to talk about it and cry over it. It was my burden and mine alone, and I bore it terribly. 

At the same time, one of the oncologists I met with told me I was running out of time. If I were to do any treatment at all, it had to be now, and that is how I felt obligated to do radiation therapy. However, some issues happened. The oncologist in Miami accepted after several weeks of pressure from my side, that maybe the test results confused the sides of the tumors, which meant that I might have irradiated the wrong side of my body 10 times. She wrote to say maybe they will test my biggest tumor again, but never again responded to my emails. Neither did my Miami surgeon. All in all, I've been abandoned by most doctors (local oncologist refusing to work with me because I don't want to do chemo or hormone therapy), so my feelings of abandonment are quite justified, I think.

Anyway, this "maybe we confused the sides" was the final push I needed to stop radiation. My skin was burning, I was starting to experience important pain in the left axilla, and I felt exhausted all the time. This simply was not "me".

I would never dream of approaching someone who's decided to do chemo, radiation and hormone therapy, etc. and tell them: "You should stop. You are weakening your body and immune system and you will die because of making such a poor choice." Although that is clearly my opinion.

Does it make sense? 

In my case, my decision was taken very carefully, after speaking to many doctors, researching the drugs they were proposing, thinking, meditating, thinking again, reading, and analyzing.

I wonder how many cancer patients taking chemo, radiation and hormone therapy have given it so much effort and thought, I can assume very few. See, cancer is a very scary diagnosis. Most people struggle to stay in control and sometimes undertaking this research is way too much for them. Also, challenging the establishment is not for everyone... (somehow I've always excelled at this, hehe).

I know because I felt this way as well. In fact, after receiving my own diagnosis, I think my life went up in the air for a while. I couldn't keep my routines, I felt so scattered that I had no discipline to study or work, or do anything reasonably, really. I was lucky at the time, I could rely on the support of someone close who cooked for me, took me out on bike rides in nature, to the beach, even to doctors' appointments and made me forget the live or die sensation that had taken hold of me. This helped my mental health a lot. Maybe it would have also helped my decision-making process but who knows... he was not there at that time, and it was definitely the hardest process I've ever gone through. I guess I was meant to go through it alone.

All I can say now, one week after making that decision, is I don't cry anymore. I found peace. I made a decision that resonates with my inner wisdom, with my gut, with my mind. I've found that my inner Buddha supports me and talks to me quite clearly through my intuition. I feel aligned with myself and full of trust in space, in my process, in life... My beautiful friend Celina helped me find an "integrative" oncologist, whom I hope to meet today. Hopefully this woman will help me navigate these troubled waters respecting my decision and supporting me all along the way. 

I know my friends are very smart. I wouldn't have you any other way! But often, I've found that intelligence should be reined in by compassion. You might have all the knowledge in the world, if you cannot find a way to communicate it to others, what good can it do them or you?

For a moment after meeting this friend, I was shaky. But I refused to ponder his ideas of me dying from staying away from the western treatments. In my heart, this is what makes sense. Respect it. My being at peace with it surely is more important than you speaking your piece.

East or West

In my cancer journey I have been confronted with many difficult decisions. Since I am away from my family and friends, I can only rely on my own intuition and inner wisdom.

Decisions such as what treatment to follow are the hardest. The medical community varies in their approach, whether they are in El Salvador, the US or Hungary, and are sometimes a bit contradictory, which can contribute to feelings of confusion and anxiety, a lot of fear of making the wrong choice and dying from it.

However the advice Western medicine has for breast cancer patients is pretty much the same everywhere: poison your body with chemotherapy, then proceed to burn it with radiation and please don’t forget to insert a hormonal time bomb by either removing your ovaries or inducing menopause.

I am both horrified and terrified of all of the above.

The highest blessing in my life has been the contact with the dharma, the teachings Buddha gave to the world 2600 years ago. In spite of coming to us millennia ago, these teachings are still relevant in the world of today.

Through my practice of dharma I have come in contact with very high lamas and have received their blessing and advice.

I am not talking about wishy-washy ideas that present themselves as alternative medicine. I am talking about Eastern wisdom and a medical science that has been healing people for thousands of years, without poison or burning or aggravating one’s condition with unnecessary pain or difficulties.

Most of the Western doctors I have spoken to in the past six months have been appalled at my determination *NOT* to have chemotherapy, and several have felt offended by my doubts and a few have been less than respectful to me when I’ve expressed my doubts and tried digging deeper with my many questions.

Following the advice of a Buddha, I’ve decided to follow an Ayurvedic treatment.

This feels true in my deep self. I trust it with my life, quite literally.

It doesn’t mean it’s easy. The limitations are many. But it feels right.

Anyway, what to trust more? The advice of a Buddha who sees everything in every situation, or that of a doctor who only sees statistics (which by the way do not include me)?
-
I'll just follow my heart.

Strengthening my immune system

I realize I haven't written a blog post in like.... forever! So, it is hard to make up for all the time that I stayed silent. So much has happened I wouldn't know where to start, so instead of starting at the beginning, I'll just start with wherever I am at right now. If I later feel the urge to fill up the gaps, we'll see, but for now —and as a brief introduction to this post— let me just say: I was diagnosed with bilateral breast cancer about 5 months ago. I had a double mastectomy with immediate reconstruction in November, all of the above, while living in Miami (!!!) but I am back home in Hungary now.

Finding myself in such a situation, dealing with uncertainty and trying to make the right BIG decisions, a deep sense of loneliness pervades me. I don't know where to turn for advise, or for a gentle pat in the back, or some sort of confirmation about my choices. I don't know anyone here who's gone through the same process, and relying solely on myself can be exhausting...

Therefore, I joined a few breast cancer support groups on Facebook, I simply couldn’t find one in Budapest adequate for me language-wise.

There was a post about how to strengthen the immune system, a valid question when enduring treatments I don't really know if I trust. One of the contributions resonated deeply within me. It said, “work with your mind.”

Wow! Well, isn’t that what I’ve been trying to do for the past 15 years or more?

Work with my mind. It sounds easy and everyone talks about visualization and the law of attraction and about manifestation. The truth is that things are not so clear cut. They say cancer is an emotional disease. And I actually feel so many different things now, enough to keep my mind very busy trying to work it all out. It's up and downs every day. What seems like a fine morning can easily turn into a crying marathon, and vice versa, a difficult morning can become a beautiful day full of hope and happy sensations.

So much for balance. But who ever said that working with our mind is easy?

I remember the summer of 2012, when Karmapa gave us the initiation on Dzambala in Becske. He said, “abundance is good health” and I remember thinking something in the lines of “come on! What I need is money!” Oh well... now it’s the other way around and I think of my foolish younger self with compassion. Little did I know...

In the end, all I can do is whisper to my cells in a soft, humble voice: “Thank you for healing me.” 

I'm back (in more ways than one)

Two years without posting... Wow!

Truth is I was struggling on many fronts, trying to make a professional breakthrough and sailing rough waters in my private life.

I think I may have reached an equilibrium point, and that I am ready now to come back to my blog, to write and share my aha moments. Why did I start this blog? I guess I was so very inspired by my travels, by my decision to start a new life for me and my girls, that I needed to share it. I am still inspired, but more generally by my life. My practice, my teacher, my Buddhist community, my family are all blessings in my life which give me so much. My cup overflows.

I don't think that going over the past two years would make sense. My life has changed a lot. Suffice to say I am in a better place now. Liberated from an exhausting relationship, hopeful professionally and full of blessings and light.

The past few months have been interesting. I have traveled a lot, renewed old friendships and made new ones. I fell in love and harvested a broken heart. But that's ok. I realized I was walking the same road, only with a different person. I don't want to fall into the same old traps. I am ready for the fresh and the new. So I lick my wounds and lift up my chin and look onwards. As long as I am alive, there is joy to be found in the world, and I am deeply committed to happiness. Never again shall I allow someone to diminish or manipulate me. I vow to be vigilant. I am back on track and I take the reins of my life and of my happiness.

Impermanence, friend or foe?

I remember a friend telling me how for her Buddhism made sense when she understood the concept of impermanence. As I considered her comment, I realized that impermanence has been a part of my life for a very long time.

 My father died when I was 13 years old. At that time, I couldn't imagine this could ever happen to anyone. Of course, I heard about tragic things happening around the world, even in Paris fires would happen, and car accidents, but my life was so perfect and protected, I could never imagine this would change.

But change it did. In fact my life was shattered when my father was diagnosed with cancer and died merely 6 months later. Nothing was ever the same. My small world was destroyed, my mother and I moved to a different country, a different continent, a different culture and language and it was extremely hard for me to adapt.

But I did adapt in the end. El Salvador became my home and I lived there many years and built a life for myself and my children.

However when I became a Buddhist I realized impermanence has been part of my life for a very long time... so when the Buddhist teachers spoke about it, it wasn't earth-shattering, it was right there inside me, a natural concept, one I understood all too well.

After my father died, I continued experimenting loss. My boyfriend died when I was 17, later my grand mother and then a very dear friend my own age. To say I am well acquaintanced with death is quite the understatement.

I also lost my home in Paris, and later other homes followed, and with them friends, familiar settings and routines. I eventually came back to Europe, and I am now living in Budapest, Hungary, trying to make a new life for me and my girls, trying to settle in, to make friends, to grow professionally and to feel at home, since I don't really know where home is.

But impermanence is more than a liberating concept that we learn when we become Buddhists "Everything will change" or "This too shall pass". It is a constant feeling of possibilities, and not the comforting type. It is the possibility of loss... at any moment, in any way, all the time.

I often reflect on the possibility of my own death, and how this would affect my girls, my mother and all those who love me. I often reflect on their death, and how this could happen right now, in this very second, and there is nothing one can do about it.

I am not comforted by this. I am not traumatized by it either. I just think about it more frequently than other people do, I guess. I also have a tendency to have the darkest worst-case-scenario come to mind quite quickly if my daughters or my husband don't answer the phone.

I had an accident recently. It was a small accident, but it required hospitalization, and it involved a lot of pain. This was not pleasant, of course, but not that big a deal in the end. What really makes me tick though is how it makes me think so morbidly about my health, and of course, the possibility of dying.

And so here it is, once more... the confrontation with my own impermanence, the possibility of death staring at me in the face, making me feel like the ground is collapsing under my feet, and I realize this is not the Buddhist impermanence. This is the opposite, this is fear.

The reality of things is there is no safety net. Yet, after so many years, I still don't know how to deal with impermanence, or how to make it become my friend.

On the quality of meditation

I recently read this quote from the Buddhist teacher Hannah Nydahl:

"In practice, quality and quantity are united. Quality gives depth to the practice, it is connected with understanding, deep motivation, dedication to the teacher and compassion for other beings. Quantity means a consistent habit to not be lazy and using a little more time for practice than is comfortable for us at present. This will always be rewarded. Ninth Karmapa Wangchuk Dorje said, "If you meditate, strengthening diligence when confronted with difficulties, you wiil get rewards in the form of incredible qualities."

I have already understood that quantity is important. The more we push ourselves to sit on the cushion, the better. Sometimes our busy schedules don't allow for as much time as we'd like, but arrangements can always be made to increase our time. Waking up one hour earlier is an option, although not welcomed by everyone. It is also possible to use any "window" of time that opens up to us.

A friend of mine spends an incredible amount of time meditating. He has a full time job, but uses whatever free time he gets for meditation and ends up accumulating hours each day. Of course, this is not about putting hours upon hours of meditation every single day. It is about giving it your best, even if that means 20 minutes instead of 3 hours. The point Hannah Nydahl makes in her quote, I think, is the importance of meditating "a little more time" than what feels comfortable. Once again our teachers push us to go beyond our comfort zone, where all the magic appears.

What really shook my neurones this time however, was the comment regarding quality. As Buddhist practitioners, of course we feel a deep devotion to our teacher, and we work with compassion, spreading it more and more around us as we develop. But what is real quality in meditation?

As my friend Réka - who is a traveling teacher from Hungary - explained at a lecture a couple of days ago, it is only natural for thoughts to constantly emerge in our mind during our meditation sessions. However, meditation is about resting in the here and now, and the thoughts that arise in our mind are rarely conducive to "here and now", but are much more likely to take us to yesterday, tomorrow, or to the possibility of tomorrow.

Instead of following the waterfall of thoughts, which is our most natural response, we should simply notice the thought, and go back to the Buddha. It is a simple shift in our attention, and it transforms it into awareness. This of course requires discipline. But as practitioners we already know a bit about creating positive habits, so pushing a little bit more is simply taking the next logical step. The first reward we will reap is a focused meditation, which feels much shorter than a dissipated one, and gently invites us to stay longer in the practice.


Then, quite simply, and almost effortlessly, quantity and quality meet.



More about Hannah Nydahl