I’m going to make you jealous

Of all the comments I received in response to my July 17 newsletter, my favorite one was from a woman who wrote me that “cancer saved her life.”

How this woman put my whole email into instant perspective like this is remarkable.

Because it’s true for me too: cancer saved my life.

Not that there was anything wrong with my life.

For the last five years, my life has been arcing upward into more and more happiness every day. Just about everything on my “manifesting list” (about 90%) has come true already.

I’ve actually had to write up a whole new list! And that was tough to do, since most it what I wrote was simply along the lines of “Just give me more of this, please” with a sprinkle of “going bigger” items.

Being in Flow has caused my entire life to reshape itself and turn inside out. All my priorities have shifted. All my expectations have grown.

When I learned I had cancer, I cried for three days straight and mourned what I thought would be a “loss.”

I had fear that I’d lose my breast, hair, and my once-pretty figure. That I’d lose my health, and even my life. That I’d lose a year to horrible anti-cancer treatment. That I’d lose my company, Flowdreaming, during this year. That I’d even lose my faith, since how did I manifest cancer for god sakes?

None of those things are happening.

Being ill is expanding my life.

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I love myself…but you loving me? That’s more difficult.

Honestly I’ve started and stopped writing this email at least three times. Not only have I not written anything to you in several months (aside from my newsletter last week), but now that I am, it’s incredibly hard to get my thoughts focused.

It’s that “I don’t know where to begin” paralysis.

So how about this: right now, my daughter Lexi is sitting on the bed with me eating chocolate covered strawberries. I’m laying down with bloody drains coming out of my side, trying to take as little pain medication as possible. I just had a mastectomy.

Every day this week, my friends have been bringing my family meals. It’s only the fifth day after surgery and already my refrigerator is stuffed full. My bestie Jen sent the chocolate strawberries. I have bouquets of flowers surrounding my bed and heaps of cards on my table.

And part of me wants to text everyone and tell them to stop sending things and bringing food, because I’m fine goddamit, and then another part of me reminds me that I still need help just putting my clothes on, or brushing my hair.

I know this might be a surprise. People who live a “straight and narrow holy life” aren’t supposed to get things like cancer, are they?

I remember feeling the same way when Wayne Dyer, my radio cohost for many years, got leukemia. And when Debbie Ford, another friend, got cancer. And when Jerry Hicks got cancer.

It doesn’t make sense. Yet of course it does make sense, if we only had the wherewithal to know what was really going on Upstairs.

Nevertheless, I’m going to save the “why I manifested cancer” epistle for another post, because instead I need to explore something more immediate that’s popped up that I’m struggling to understand in terms of Flow, which is how to receive.

Yep, that old bad boy, coming around for yet another round.

What an irony, I think, that I’ve practiced the art of Flowdreaming and manifesting to where I create some truly dazzling things, but even so, here I am rubbing up again against that same ceiling.

You know how I found it this time?

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Blessings in disguise

It was a big surprise when my doctor called in July and unceremoniously dropped the “C” word. Cancer. In me. Right now. And not a small tumor, but a nice big one that had sprouted babies in my breast.
 
Flowdreaming has become about way more than just making things happen for me, and “attracting” stuff into my life.

I’ve also been using it to create new characteristics in myself, fully reshape and reprogram my emotional conditioning, and to heal…especially to heal!

Heal grief, heal fear, anger and loss…you name it and I’ve applied the Flow approach to it. But cancer is a new one for me.
 
In a weird way, I feel like I’m finally discovering the rest of the elephant, not just the tail. Like I’ve gotten past the flashy candy wrapper of the manifesting part, and am now deep down in the Real Stuff of what Flowdreaming is and does.
 
So of course, Flow is Gettin’ Real with me.
 
That means right now I’m figuring out how to put cancer into Flow. And how to put grief into Flow. And how to put fear and loss into Flow. And frankly, how to embrace anything (even cancer) I end up being part of creating.
 
Part of this embracing means changing the emotions I feel when I encounter something scary and unwanted.

Flow reminds me I always have a choice in how I feel. I know how to pre-act. And I know how to react. And I can always choose which side of the fence I want to be on.
 
I can choose to resist my next step or embrace it.
 
So here is a Facebook post I shared with my M.E. School classes a few weeks ago, that will give you glimpse into how I’m embracing one of the scariest things in my life:

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Sucky jobs & pre-existing patterns

One of my students, Maddy, is telling me that she’s waking up at night, panicky, worrying that she’s going to lose her house when they lay her off at work. She doesn’t know when the layoffs will come.

She’s living in a constant state of low-level fear, feeling horribly frustrated and powerless. She’s even applied for another job in the same field that she doesn’t even want, and afraid they’ll reject her.

Last night, another student, Claire, told me that she’s already lost her job and now she’s dreading finding another even as the bills are piling up, since the jobs are always the same low-level, horrible, mind-numbing kind. She’s been on a merry-go-round of them for twenty-five years. Her credit card is stacked up with debt.

Both Claire and Maddy have the same emotional energetic pattern. Let’s pull it out into the sunshine and take a look.

I ask Maddy why she thinks she can’t be happy in a career.

She answers, “My parents always said ‘just get a job. No one likes their job. Everyone just does one. That’s the way it is. Just get through it.’”

“And that’s what you’ve been doing?”

She tearfully nods and chokes out, “Yeah.”

“Do you think I hate my job?” I ask.

“No.”

“Does my husband hate his job as a designer? Do you think my mom hates her job? Did my aunt hate her job teaching English as s second language? Does my cousin hate his job as a chef?”

No, no, no, and no.

“And do you think we have jobs we love because we’re special or smarter or something? In other words, different or better than you?”

“Yes,” she practically whispers.

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You don’t always need a “why” (or, “How to fill your well”)

I’m lying on the floor in a stranger’s house while the house’s owner plants crystals around the room, lights candles, and swishes the air with her arms.

There’re about nine of us lying like packed sardines on yoga mats in her small living room, covered in blankets. We are about to go on a shamanic meditation journey.

I have absolutely no idea what this means or even what we’re going to do next.

When my friend asked me to join her for the event, I said “sure” without thinking, and now here I am.

I’ve been smoked with burning sage, made awkward chitchat, and now we’ve settled down to business.

The leader is powerful gal, and I can tell she’s very comfortable with us as she settles in to guide the group. I decide I’m going to trust her.

Where are we going? I wonder. And, What are we even doing to get there?!

Turns out, we’re practicing a kind of meditation that encompasses rigorous, controlled breathing until we reach a euphoric state.

“Ok,” I think, “maybe I’ll just Flowdream a little while I breathe.”

I mean, it’s what I usually do during savasana (the meditation portion of  yoga class) anyway. It’s my default, go-to, feel-good practice.

And what’s more, I’m good at it, so I get to feel productive and powerful and a tiny bit self-congratulating about my expertise.

Which is probably exactly why as I start the breathing meditation, I feel a booming command: “No Flowdreaming, Summer.”

What the heck?

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