The Gifts of Disease

This morning, I found out my neighbor has cancer. I often see her on my morning walks with the dogs. She is usually on her front porch always with a smile, always warm and friendly, always happy to say hi and chat for a bit.
As she told me the details of her cancer and the treatments that lay ahead, she cried and I cried with her. We hugged. I told her I would hold her in my thoughts and prayers. In our conversation, she shared with me parts of herself and her life I didn’t know before. I told her about how my mother-in-law survived two bouts of breast cancer. In our brief 20- minute conversation, we created a closeness that perhaps would never had been created without her cancer.
For me, this closeness that we now share is beautiful and a treasure. In our busy and hurried lives, deep and meaningful connection with others can get lost in our to-do lists and places to be.
Disease, especially life changing disease like cancer or Parkinson’s Disease or Fibromyalgia is difficult, uncomfortable and painful. It tears down the life we had been living and we are left with pieces to pick up. We feel the rug has been pulled out from under our feet. It is this unsettled and uncertain state of being which propels someone to seek out a medical intuitive.
In my work as a Licensed Acupuncturist and Medical Intuitive, I often see people at their most vulnerable. It is an awful place to be faced with illness, feeling a burden to those around, afraid you are letting those around you down. But in my intutive readings, I have a unique vantage point. Sometimes, when I do my readings, I feel like I am an eagle soaring high above. I see the broad and largess view of life. I see the big picture. I see your life stretched out from past to future. And I see how temporary this moment is.
The big picture shows me a different view. The big picture shows me that disease wreaks havoc in our outer world, the world of appearances, achievements, and possessions; but it can create order and healing in our inner world of thoughts, emotions, beliefs, and stories. I get to see the other side of the coin. I get to see the gifts disease can bring.
Here is a list of some of the common themes I see in my intuitive readings that are common in nearly everyone that I read for who has chronic disease.
1. Disease softens us. With disease we are vulnerable, we need help. This creates opportunities to receive, something many of us have a hard time doing.
2. With disease we slow down. This is a gift in our aggressive and speedy world. In slowing down, we see life in a completely different way. We see details. We have a deep appreciation for things that before may have gone completely unnoticed.
3. Disease gives us the opportunity to connect more deeply with the loved ones in our lives. We so often take for granted our loved ones. Slowing down, being vulnerable, softening are all openings for a deepened connection to those we love.

I recently did a reading for a woman who has Lyme disease and hypothyroidism. She told me that her diseases have been her greatest teachers and she wouldn’t change anything about them because they had given her so much. Wise woman.
Here is an exercise you can try if you are feeling beaten down and imprisoned by chronic disease. I got the idea for this exercise from the book How to Be Sick by Toni Bernhard. If you don’t know this book or haven’t read it, I highly recommend it. For me, this book is like a dear friend that always sits next to me on my night stand. I pick it up on a regular basis and read a chapter or two and it always leaves me feeling refreshed and comforted like a good friend would.
In chapter 12 of the book, Bernhard talks about The Work of Byron Katie. Byron Katie teaches a method of meeting our thoughts and our life situations with curiosity and understanding.
This quote from Katie’s book Loving What Is sums it up beautifully: “Thoughts are like the breeze or the leaves on the trees or the raindrops falling. They appear like that, and through inquiry, we can make friends with them. Would you argue with raindrops? Raindrops aren’t personal, and neither are thoughts. Once a painful concept is met with understanding, the next time it appears you may find it interesting. What used to be the nightmare is now just interesting. The next time it appears you may find it funny. The next time, you may not even notice it. This is the power of loving what is.”
This morning as I talked with my dear neighbor, she shared with me some of her fears. Being told you have cancer is terrifying. This is perhaps the most terrifying news anyone could ever get. That kind of terror can be paralyzing. When we experience that kind of terror, we often react without evaluating the terror. We just want the terror to go away. We want the cancer to just go away because we think the cancer is causing our terror.
But if we take a moment to analyze and evaluate the terror, we can see that the terror comes from our thoughts about cancer, not the actual cancer itself. We have thoughts like what if I die, what if I lose all my hair, what if I leave my children abandoned, who will take care of all the things I take care of everyday, what if I miss out on parts of life I don’t want to miss out on.
When we accept what is and lean into our life situation, we have the opportunity to see beyond the terror. We get to open up beyond our reaction to our thoughts and see what else is there. One of my favorite quotes by Byron Katie is “reality is always kinder than our thoughts.”

To begin the exercise, get a pen and paper or something to write with. Ideally, you do this in a quiet environment which allows for a meditative state. Quiet yourself and take a few deep breaths. Then, ask yourself what your disease or diseases have given you. What comes to you when you ask your inner voice that question? Your inner voice will talk to you. Pay attention to what comes to you when you ask that question. Write down everything that comes to you.
I have anxiety. I have dealt with anxiety in varying degrees throughout my life. Here is my list of the gifts that anxiety has given me:
- A greater understanding of my parents and my parent’s parents. My grandmother committed suicide when she was in her forties. She had bi-polar disorder. I feel I have gotten to know her through my own anxiety.
- A greater understanding for my husband who has cyclothymia, a mild version of bi-polar disorder. Anxiety helps me really grasp what that is like for him. My relationship with my husband has deepened significantly due to the work I have done around my anxiety.
- Anxiety propelled me to study more deeply the Five Elements of Chinese medicine. In doing so, I have learned so much about my constitution, which is fire. I see how the virtue of fire, propriety, is perfect for me. When I practice propriety, or appropriate behavior, it helps my anxiety.
- I do yoga on a regular basis, particularly restorative and inverted poses which help my heart to feel calm. My whole body benefits from the yoga which I wouldn’t be so disciplined about if it didn’t help my anxiety so much.
- I have more compassion and empathy for people who deal with any level of chronic health condition which can at times be debilitating.
- I have slowed down in my life. Earlier in life, I would race through life. Anxiety forces me to slow down. If I race, I pay with my heart rate. In slowing down, I see more beauty, I hear more birds, I see more color.
- Anxiety has taught me to say no. There was a time in my life where saying no to someone seemed impossible and frightening. Through bouts of anxiety, I have learned to limit what I do and what I commit to. The result of this is a daily life that is more contented and peaceful.
- I’ve learned to embroider. Embroidery has given me a lot of peace and joy. In the past, I would have chosen an activity for myself which promised more excitement. I know now that too much excitement exacerbates anxiety.
- I met my wonderful therapist Lynn whose presence in my life cannot be understated. She is a treasure. I wouldn’t have met her without anxiety.
These are my honest answers and when I read them and reread them, I am struck by how powerful my experience of anxiety has been and how much it has given me.
This is not meant to diminish how uncomfortable, difficult, and painful disease can be. I have many moments where I wish I didn’t have anxiety, where I wish my heart would stop pounding and racing, where I wish I could sleep at night.
But when I turn my thoughts around and see disease from a different view, I see how rich, complex, intricate and ultimately beautiful my life experience is.
I see with this exercise that I can choose to love what is or hate what is. For me, anxiety is what is. Maybe someday it will go away completely. Until it does, I can choose to evaluate and work with my attitude toward my anxiety. I can accept myself and my anxiety as it is. When I do this, I feel free.

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