Greatings from the land of “Far, far away”… Part 4?

Much had happened since last I wrote to you, my friends. I am sorry to have kept you out of the loop, and cannot even say I have a good excuse for doing that… I can only apologize now.

My mood is swinging back and forth like a Flamenco dancer after several shots of Tequila. Even though I have danced with her so many times before, I am always amazed all over again to learn that tedious little fact about life – Nothing lasts, nothing is permanent.

Now, as evening dawns upon the quite town of Westlake Village and thoughts of dinner sneak into my mind, I am wondering where I should start this letter.

It has been 2 months since last I wrote, and just a few days ago I undergone another set of scans with satisfactory results. It seems my Cancer is stable for now, and thus, I am going on with the treatments and my life here abroad. Apart from that we had an awful ordeal with our car, which I am going to spare you the details. Let’s just say that we bought a used car that seemed great for a lot of money, found out it was not great at all, fought with the dealership to take it back for about 2 months, asked an American lawyer friend to come with us to a meeting, and finally got all our money back. If I learned anything from this experience, is that I don’t belong here in America! I am out of my pond, out of my behavioral conditions, out of my world. I may speak English, but I certainly don’t speak American… We may all look the same, but we are not. One thing though, the whole thing was still an interesting anthropological experience to be in so I can’t say it was all to waist.

Since we did have a 2 month period in which I didn’t have to do any scans but just get my drug once a week, we used this time for some traveling. A few days of touristic activities in L.A. and I was already tired and sick. Nothing serious though, just a minor flue, but it did make me feel like hell (or to be more specific – like I am dead… Funny the Cancer doesn’t do that), and it allowed me the pleasures of finding out that the E.R. here is just as inefficient as Israel. After 7 hours I went home with the same flue, just 7 hours later. Of course the flue passed after 2 days like it usually does and we went on with the plans.

So let’s see what we had:

-          An amazing foliage trip to Vermont and Boston with great friends from Israel. Only pictures can describe that. I don’t even want to try.

-          A night in the Mojave Desert with… The same friends from Israel. The vastness of the desert, with the nothingness all around, can empty even the most crowded mind to a point of pure awareness.

-          Las Vegas. Not really our cup of tea, but our friends insisted. It was nice sleeping in a comfortable bed after the cold night in the desert.

-          My nieces Bat-Mitzvah in Arizona. That included another amazing drive through the desert in which we witnessed one of the truly most amazing sunsets ever.

-          My mom came here for a visit. Felt first hand the power of the funny but true saying “If you think your enlightened, go visit your parents”.

-          An anxious week of scans. That may need some elaboration -

As you all know, every 2 months I have 2 scans that determine my disease evaluation. The 2 scans are with 2 different types of Isotopes that attach themselves to the tumor cells. Now, understandably, every time I take those scans I try to listen to my body, try to talk to it, and try to get a hunch. It is my undisputed opinion, after 20 years in the trade, that I can never know what is really going on inside. How does that relate to our current story? Well, I had a hunch the results are going to be not good. Even though the first scan came out O.K., I still thought the second one will show disease progress and I will be off the research. So while waiting for the official results, I was totally depressed, afraid, sad. And I started to reflect on why is that? Why am I so afraid? And of what am I afraid? The answer was quick to come. It is Mara that comes and visits me with death in his eyes. Once again I am facing his holly evilness for a quick duel. I thought I made peace with Mara long ago. I wept with him, and laughed with him, and when the time was right – had peace with him. But it was always a fragile peace, like the peace of two alley cats, declaring truce just to lick their wounds and prepare for the next battle. This time Mara was winning… At least for a few days until I got a call from Israel informing me my grandmother had died. Ahhhh, now that changed the picture. It is when Mara reveals himself so bluntly, that he is the weakest, so I started thinking of death with an open mind and wrote down this short poem to be read in her funeral in which I could not attend:

 

So strange is death

Humans expect him all their life, and yet when it hints, their heart quivers with fear

When it closes in, they look away

When it calls, they deafen

When it yells out, they only bury their head in the sand

But it always comes. Stable and calm and present

Maybe it is not weird so as are we

 

But the sage,

Who live their lives in peace and wholeness. Who acquire wisdom not inherited in books

They are not afraid

When it hints, they smile

When it closes in, they look straight at it

When it calls, they listen to his song

When it yells out, they grant him a great big hug

And now there is some peace. I see again, and not for the last time, how mindfulness shines in with bright colors to show me my relations with myself, and the concept of self, and to bring joy in this moment. This joy, for a split second, non-dual moments I dare say? Maybe.

I think that would do for now. I hope the length of this letter was not too much for you and that you had the patience to bear with it to the end. When I started writing I knew I had much to say, but I had no idea to what extent this letter would lead me.

May all beings know death with open awareness

May all beings know death as a friend

May all beings know life

Dror