By Susan Evans, Student, Mullumbimby NSW
A year ago I was diagnosed with lung cancer. Initially I was very shocked, as over the last 5 years I have made many lifestyle changes and have been living in a much more healthy way and was beginning to nurture and care for myself on a much deeper level.
Over time, I came to a deep acceptance and understanding that this was a culmination of the poor choices I had made, as a result of holding on to and not dealing with my hurts for the past 54 years of my life. It was not easy at first to let go of the habits and choices I had become accustomed to, but little by little, my connection to my body deepened and I began making more loving choices. I realised that this diagnosis was going to be an opportunity for me to clear all that was no longer a part of me.
The prognosis was positive as the cancer was caught early, but I was advised it would involve major surgery to remove one third of my lung.
When I first arrived at hospital, the outpouring of love and support from family and friends at first was so overwhelming it felt like a dam had burst and I was being assailed from all quarters. I had this intense feeling of being buoyed up, of being held. My body felt alive, making me realise how much love there truly is in the world and how I am a part of that and it felt so beautiful.
I came to see that I had been living in judgement of people because of the choices they were making so I had shut down to others, separated myself and in that arrogance had deprived myself of the love on offer from them. In turn, I had deprived people of the love that I am.
Why did I separate myself from others?
Fear of being hurt, feeling not worthy, not good enough, comparing myself to others, looking for perfection in myself and in those around me, and the fear of being disappointed in this, were some of the reasons. In the days leading up to surgery I had time to reflect on these revelations and what became glaringly obvious was that I had shut God out and had given up! I had only been seeing and feeling all that was not love. In those first couple of days I started to feel all that was love and how I was an integral part of humanity. As this occurred, I could feel my connection to God deepen.
After surgery, I chose to truly honour myself and graciously accept all that was on offer for me to deeply heal. This was something I had never done before, as I had always been strongly independent and had always struggled to accept help. I made a conscious choice that whatever I needed to support my body through this time – be it food, pain relief or help to move – I would ask for it and I did not hold back. The nursing staff, medical professionals, orderlies, kitchen staff and cleaners were all so beautifully loving, attentive, gentle and caring. It showed me that when I truly reflect and honour the beautiful, loving and amazing beings that we are, that is what comes back to me.
What was really beautiful was the connection I made with everyone that came to my room. It was like there was space for each of them to express what was going on in their lives and so they talked about their families, issues and problems and what made them happy. I experienced a feeling of interconnectedness with everyone that made me feel truly joyful.
Having the cancer removed felt like a plug had been pulled out and I could really feel the beauty in humanity, this strong feeling of brotherhood, and an equalness with all in our divine connection to God.
This experience has changed me. I had much time during my recovery to reflect on, face, and clear so many of my hurts. I still have many to deal with, but what is most important to me is that neither I, nor we, are alone in this journey.
I have a deeper acceptance and love for myself and for those around me, and am now clearly seeing how we are all a part of God’s Divine Plan.
All of this would not have been possible without the love and support of Serge Benhayon and the dedicated practitioners and medical professionals who practise the teachings of Universal Medicine. I am in deep appreciation of them all.
Read more:
Medicine and Serge Benhayon 
I can so relate to what you are sharing Susan when you say
“Over time, I came to a deep acceptance and understanding that this was a culmination of the poor choices I had made, as a result of holding on to and not dealing with my hurts for the past 54 years of my life. It was not easy at first to let go of the habits and choices I had become accustomed to…,”
It has been brought to my attention that I’m hanging on to ideals and beliefs that are such a part of me I have become accustomed to them without understanding how damaging they are to me and everyone else as I am not an island but part of a greater whole. So basically how I am with myself affects everyone else.
It feels like there has been a deep healing in you, Susan, not only in your lungs and your phisical matter but in the whole of you. That is truly transformational and brings a new mark to your next steps. Wonderful..
How Amazing ✨
This is a really beautifully inspiring blog to read that you came to a full understanding of what got you to the diagnosis of lung cancer. So many people have given up and withdrawn from life because in their sensitivity, and we are all very sensitive, they feel how abusive we are towards each other and it hurts to feel this. Our society wants us all to toughen up, men and women, and this completely goes against our nature and so we are fighting ourselves which is exhausting and so is it any wonder it would lead to illness and disease, as we put such a strain on the organs of our body.
Susan, isn’t it fascinating that it takes a stop moment like a diagnosis to review our lives and our past choices we have made. And what I love is the fact that you allowed yourself to be vulnerable and accept what was offered to you in the way of love and support. You were open and so were others caring for you.
This is a beautiful inspiring read, thank you for sharing.
Disease and illness has a lovely way of getting us to stop what we are doing and start clearing out anything that doesn’t belong. My back went out yesterday trying to take my laptop off the sofa. It hurt(s) like hell but it got me to reflect on how I was living which hasn’t been supportive at all.
Leigh, I totally understand, it’s that knock on the door that says, ‘hey, can you bring yourself back to you, you’ve gone somewhere else’…As much as the experience can be painful, it’s the marker to stop us in our tracks, and regather and reconnect back to being us again. I love the body!…
Love, really is easy. We try very hard to turn it into something else, and it’s that trying that is hard.
I can so clearly feel the beautifully healing space in your hospital room Susan, a space that evolved from the way you had approached your surgery and the healing that lay ahead. So often, the energy in hospital rooms is totally the opposite, with the fear palpable, and the obviousness that the patients have shut down, not wanting to feel. How inspirational you would have been for any patients around you and for all the staff you came in contact during your stay; I for one, am very inspired and I wasn’t even there!
We can definitely connect to our inner love and live from it at any time, even when we have a serious illness. Sometimes it’s because of something like a serious illness that causes such a stop or wake up call that our priorities can change. What really stands out in this blog that it’s never about what’s going on in our outer world, it’s simply our choice to return to and live from love or not regardless of our circumstances. I’ve experienced this same thing in challenging circumstances, realising that the love inside me is untouched by what’s happening around me, and that I can stay nestled there whilst I deal with the situation. It’s an ongoing learning and very beautiful to experience. This blog is such an important reflection for what’s possible when dealing with a serious illness, as it’s a whole new approach.
Melinda I can so relate to what you have said
“I’ve experienced this same thing in challenging circumstances, realising that the love inside me is untouched by what’s happening around me, and that I can stay nestled there whilst I deal with the situation.”
I have a similar experience; when we are reconnected back to our essence which resides in all of us we are untouchable because what we have connected to has such a depth of quality nothing can come anywhere near it. It is uncontaminated; to comprehend and appreciate this will have a profound healing for us all. In our vulnerability there is a sense of being very powerful and as a society we have not considered or paid any attention to our vulnerability, believing it to be a sign of weakness when in actual fact the opposite is true.
The body communicates with us constantly and we continually override its messages of what is not okay with it. Eventually there is the big stop moment that offers us space to reflect upon a lifetime of ill-choices and where these have brought us to (illness & disease, accidents etc). How different the health and wellbeing of humanity would be if we actually listened to the body sooner.
“This experience has changed me.”
Asking for support and being open to receive it is deeply healing – how empowering to have accepted that you are love at your core essence and you were able to bring this quality to all the people attending you during this intense time (and living it in full from then onwards).
“I made a conscious choice that whatever I needed to support my body through this time – be it food, pain relief or help to move – I would ask for it and I did not hold back.”
The asking of support seems to be a very big issue for many people across all ages, and genders. Which has me wondering why? Is it that we have been raised to think we have to do it all on our own and to ask for help is a sign of weakness, by parents who were raised in exactly the same way? So, how wonderful is it when we are able to let go of this debilitating pattern and to ask and accept the help on offer; and it always is – we simply have to ask.
I wonder if asking for support is a generational thing, I am hopeless at asking for support, I just get on with it; this is from a learnt experience from childhood many years ago. I did ask for support, but as it wasn’t forth coming I learnt to rely on just myself.
But I have noticed that the younger generation are able to ask for support and what is more glorious is that they get the support they need, which feels very satisfying.