Making Peace with Our Expectations, Bad and Good

This is just the briefest (Well, in comparison to the last Mesa News…) of updates about my wife and Mesa Co-Director, Kate, who has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer.  I am jumping in so many directions right now and need to focus on other things, like our Fall 2012 schedule.  I promise to pass along our further adventures in cancer healing as well as new tools we have discovered to combat this imbalance and the side effects of the conventional medical treatment (chemotherapy) she is receiving. 

Kate is doing very well, in the overall scheme of things and her energy continues to change for the better.  She had chemo yesterday and is recovering from it with very few side effects compared to the first trips.  We have been given a homeopathic remedy for them and for healing the cancer imbalance itself that is working wonders for her.  We’ve also been using a chunk of crystalline salt from the Dead Sea that I brought back from Israel in 1999.  It’s like a vacuum cleaner for unbalanced energies that not only helped mitigate the side effects, but also brightens Kate’s energy considerably and never “fills up”. 

As things would have it, last week Kate’s white blood cell count was too low for her to undergo chemotherapy and it was put off until yesterday.  We chose to look at this as a much needed break to relax, and work on deeper level issues.  We decided not to see it as a setback.  While this patience was hard at first for my double Aries wife, we quickly saw it as the gift it became. 

On the day we would have otherwise gone in for her third chemo treatment, we got the news that yet another friend was going in for a surgical biopsy after an abnormal mammogram.  Kate was already feeling a bit down because she was unable to move forward on her own treatment and this news pushed her into so great a state of teary upset that she threw up her breakfast.  I could feel her fear and wanted to help. 

As I rubbed her back and coaxed her to calm down, I asked Kate what she was so afraid of.  She replied that it was “The Unknown”.  She went on to explain that it was the not-knowing about whether she would come back to a state of good health and how long it would take if she did that so troubled her.  I thought for a moment and said, “Y’know… The Unknown is a like a blank chalkboard.  Nothing is written on it.  Who’s afraid of a blank chalkboard?  The issue is your own negative expectations you’re writing on that chalkboard.  You’re envisioning all kinds of bad outcomes for yourself.  You need to erase them.” 

I went on to tell Kate about a memory I had from when I was 17yrs old and working as an electrician’s helper during summer vacation.  My two brothers and I were putting an alarm system in an inner city school in Baltimore and discovered a sealed off classroom in the attic of the old stone building.  The room had no windows and there were rows of desks.  Each of the four walls was completely covered by a large slate blackboard, the really old kind with heavy oak frames and chalk ledges.  They were all completely blank.  There was a stunning weirdness to the room’s emptiness and secrecy, but it was beautiful and calm as well. 

“It’s not The Unknown you need to come to grips with”, I told my wife and partner.  “Somewhere within that Unknown exists your healing in the Right Now.  Do you really want to constrain the creation of it with your fears?  I don’t!  You need to make peace with your expectations, not The Unknown.” 

I recognized, of course, that I did and had been doing the very same thing—madly scribbling on my chalkboard of the unknown.  When Kate was first diagnosed, I went into a state of extreme fear.  I knew I was envisioning all kinds of horrible outcomes for her and for myself—none of which were real at that moment.  I couldn’t stop myself.  I was writing as fast as I could on the chalkboard every negative way I could imagine this life-episode could or would end.  Mysteriously, I left out all the good ones. 

We did a Guided Head Movement healing for each of us about making peace with and releasing expectations, and both felt a shift.  Over the next week or so we kept reminding each other to erase our blackboard expectations—good or bad, negative or positive, and take things as they came, for that blank chalkboard is really The Void— the place in Creation from which all possibilities can emerge.  (In reality, it’s a multidimensional kind of chalkboard thingy…<grin>

Kate and I want to thank all of our Mesa friends and family from the bottoms (and tops, and middles) of our hearts for your outpouring of love, prayers, healing energy, web links, and many gifts for us.  We are truly, humbly, grateful.  A benefit is being graciously planned for us on October 2nd.  You can see the details here: 

So we ask, please be patient with us with respect to getting back to the many emails and calls we are receiving, and for posting of the Fall 2012 schedule.  Kate’s healing is an energy consuming process.  –And please let go of your sorrow and fear for, and about us and erase those chalkboards.  I remember when my elementary school teachers used to wash the chalkboards when they became too dusty.  They were the blackest, shiniest things I had ever seen and held the potential for all yet to be written.

About Brad Silberberg

Brad Silberberg, director of The Mesa Creative Arts Center in Burgettstown, PA (Pittsburgh area) is an artist, holistic healer, spiritual leader, and change agent.
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