facing fear, cancer, with love
by laurel ann reinhardt, Ph.D.

In December of 1996, like millions of women before and since, I found a lump in my breast. Though I had no reason to assume anything about this lump, my immediate thought was, CANCER. At that moment I entered what I have since come to call the “field of fear”—a space of fear which surrounded and permeated me, affecting and infecting every aspect of my life.

Though this field came, at least in part, from my own fears about cancer, it also felt much larger. I soon came to believe that it was created by all of us who have ever been part of such an experience—patients, family, friends, and physicians, to be sure, but also insurance adjusters, advertisers, and health care journalists.

Although I had spent the previous two decades using alternative health care, finding a lump in my breast sent me running to Western medicine. I went to see the friend of a friend, a woman with whom I felt a commonality of spiritual background which I thought would translate into similar beliefs about health and healing. I thought she would be able to see me for who I am—a woman who believes more in herbs, dreams, and Spirit than in patent medicines and lab tests—rather than a diagnostic code. What I forgot was the field of fear, within which she practiced her art, and which limited and threatened her as much as it did me.

Upon entering her office, I felt as if I had begun a bobsled run, paved in fear, from which there was no escape. She sent me for a mammogram, to which I consented out of fear. (I don’t believe in what Larry Dossey has labeled “medical looking,” because too often we find what we look for.) She also referred me to a surgeon for a second opinion. Without asking, the surgeon tried to aspirate the lump and came up with nothing—a “bad sign” in her world view. She recommended a lumpectomy; I almost agreed to this, too, out of fear, but the friend I had brought with me reminded me to ask some questions. The surgeon grudgingly agreed that I could “safely” take up to three months to try some other options, though she had no idea as to what those might be.

That day was one of the scariest of my life; it was also a tremendous turning point. That morning I awakened with an image of a joyous outdoor celebration. I had interpreted this both personally—as a “good” outcome with the surgeon—and collectively—as referring to the St. Paul Capitol New Year’s Eve Party scheduled for that night.

hough I had already agreed to participate as a volunteer, I didn’t feel like going; I couldn't see that I had anything to celebrate. But I decided to trust the image, so I went and assisted with a candle light procession through downtown St. Paul which exactly mirrored my image from that morning.

When we arrived at our destination, we found a bonfire already ablaze, and were invited to throw our fears into it. As I did so, I felt a door open through which I could step away from the field of fear, into one of joy and love. That night I had another dream which, to me, clearly stated that I did not need the surgeon’s knife.
The next morning, I called my Vietnamese acupuncturist. The first words out of his mouth were, “Don’t be afraid; fear makes disease worse.” I got some herbs from him, as well as some dietary recommendations from a naturopath. I slowed down and took some extra time for me, for loving myself.

This included asking all of my friends for their prayers and loving thoughts, as well as the spontaneous creation of a poem which became my anti-fear mantra; whenever fear threatened to overwhelm me, I recited the poem instead. Three months later the lump was gone, and remains gone to this day.

I took several things away from this experience which I will address in more detail in future articles:

It is essential to remain true to myself and my own ways of knowing regardless of what any of the “experts” with whom I consult might say; I am the only true expert when it comes to my own life and health, and healing occurs to the extent that I can stay connected to my own unique expression of the spirit inside me.

An ally is invaluable in remaining true to myself. An ally is not a rescuer, not a “knight in shining armor” who fights for me, but someone who can, at any misstep I might take, gently remind me of who I really am—a wise and powerful expression of God who knows more about her own body than anyone else.

Love is the most powerful force for healing in the universe. Studies demonstrate that love actually boosts the immune system, while fear depletes it. Love creates things, while fear undoes them.I have heard it said that these two primary emotions which rule our experiences cannot co-exist. In asking my friends to send me their love, and focusing on mine for myself and others, we were able to dispel or transmute the field of fear into one of love which, I believe, is what truly healed me.

It is my main goal in life to see that we all—patients, healers, allies, advocates, advertisers, administrators, politicians, and Gaia alike—create such a field of love in our healthcare system and on this planet. In doing so, I keep in mind a teaching of Gandhi’s (paraphrased): “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” It is both simpler and more difficult than it sounds.

Laurel Reinhardt, Ph.D., is a “recovering psychologist;” she gave up her license out of ethical concerns about her profession. Her writing about love, fear, and healthcare includes Healing without Fear. She delivers keynotes and workshops on this topic, serves as an ally for people who are engaged in healing processes, and hosts an internet radio show (InnerLandscaping on healthylife.net) on a related topic. Since moving to Asheville over two years ago, Laurel designed and has made several labyrinth quilts. These can be viewed at her website: innerlandscaping.com.
[ InnerLandscaping@aol.com;828-215-7424 ]