Now lIving The Dream. Daksha Trivedi
hoping to change the quality of my life and find contentment.
Over three decades ago, upon closing the last page of James Hilton’s book “The Lost Horizon”, my destiny took me to Prasanthi Nilayam (Abode of Supreme Peace) in Puttaparthi, a remote village in South India. There, I discovered my Shangri-La amidst an ocean of humanity - people from different faiths, traditions or no faith, all desperately seeking something known only to them. My first encounter with Sathya Sai Baba had a profound and a lasting effect on me. I experienced an unfamiliar serenity in which questions close to my heart emerged. The aesthetic touch of the Divine shrouded me in a vibrational field of radiant energy, which I now recognise as love in its purest form. The essence that exists in us, but often remains buried under layers of pain, suffering and turbulent relationships. The seeds of faith and self-enquiry had been planted and I knew I was on the right path of self-realisation. This was my Rosetta Stone moment helping me to decipher the code of my life. It symbolised a greater consciousness of strength and energy, where man and God become one.
My calling to Lourdes surrounded by blue mountains was another defining experience in my journey of self-discovery. Through eons of time, man has seen spectacular sunrises over the mighty rivers that flow with an ineffable power. As I stood by the Gave de Pau, the notion of time dissolved and I was in a unique place called ‘now’. Here, neither my past nor my future had any significance and this special moment was given to me for cleansing my soul.
Along my life’s journey, I had the privilege to work with eminent academics, scientists, doctors, spiritual thinkers and healing practitioners who helped me to interpret the complex tapestry of life. Now faced with a crisis, I was able to draw upon those valuable insights that became a bedrock upon which my life would unfold.
As a Reiki practitioner, I recall my first visit a few years ago to “Together against Cancer” (TAC) in Leicester, where I met many people at different stages of their cancer journey. I was amazed by their sense of what really mattered to them, their changed priorities and how much they embraced life, despite their daily struggle with their illness. During our sessions and conversations, I discovered that many had overcome their fear of dying and had learnt the art of living well. This was something beyond the usual regime of medical treatment. I was able to steer them into developing mindfulness, a positive mind-set and self- empowerment to aid healing and recovery. Their tenacity to try and overcome their hardships greatly inspired me and little did I anticipate that one day I would be walking the same path. Many people take the view that not talking about it or being in denial is their best method of coping with the crisis. Some people do cope better by not talking about cancer. However I learnt that this approach can also be damaging to such an extent that people are unable to make rational decisions about their treatment.
My scientific training had convinced me that there was nothing beyond statistics and analysis, but I soon learnt that research reports on probabilities, largely based on population data and individuals do not necessarily fit into these probabilities. For example, people who smoke are likely to get lung cancer, but not all lung cancer patients have been smokers. I had come across people who were given ‘a few months to live’ surprisingly outlive their given prognosis, whereas others with more encouraging prospects unexpectedly deteriorated. Science lends itself to analytical frameworks, but can these really encompass life, death, prognosis and recovery? Every cell in our body has an inborn intelligence to heal and our body can support this in every way. When this process is accepted in our consciousness, physical healing can take place. Each moment then marks a new beginning. We do not fully understand all the factors that have contributed to the development of cancer, so instead of focusing on looking for reasons, it would be better for us to pay attention to our own needs, learning to look after ourselves and get the support we desperately need.
This book is a humble offering to you, and I hope it will help you to accept painful uncertainties and rise above them. In doing so, we can conquer fear as we never really know when death comes knocking at our door. Along the way, I have received the comforting hand of a stranger during my most painful moments which has made a huge difference. The intricacies of human condition, often hanging by the thread between life and death remind us that we can find meaning even for a short while for our existence. Cancer comes as a memento mori, reminding us that we will die. We are then in a spectrum between submissive acceptance to a total denial. In time, we wake up to the reality we face when Pegasus breathes new life in us. If we are mindful of this inevitable fate, our lives would be entirely different.
I hope that my testimony will empower you to live every moment knowing that how we think affects us at every level. I have lived in fear, through fear and finally learnt to conquer fear. When we are not afraid of death, we are no longer afraid of life and we allow ourselves to be loved unconditionally. Great saints and sages from time immemorial give us the wisdom to transcend the problem of pain by going beyond ourselves and our body consciousness. Separating myself from this unbearable mental and physical pain prepared me for the process of self-healing. As we become free from the chains that bind us, we learn to love ourselves and to know that everything that surrounds us is love personified. We then begin to fulfil our dreams, even from the edge of life.
Many people may not have affinity to any particular faith or the existence of a supreme being, but somehow they discover an intrinsic strength which seems to carry them through their difficulties. It is not only my dream, but also my wish that every patient and their family who are burdened with such a catastrophic event have access to compassionate support from the outset. Let us together treasure our greatest gift of living well whatever the adversity. It is up to us to either dread the darkness or light a little lantern of hope.
“Who am I to say ‘believe’ ‘have faith’’ in the face of life’s realities? I want to give you something more permanent, but I can only point the way. I have no formula for winning the race. Everyone runs in her own way or his way. And where does the power come from to see the race to its end? From Within.” (Eric Liddell, from Chariots of Fire1)
1 Courtesy: Lord Puttnam’s office
ONE
Life will never be the same
Out of suffering have emerged the strongest souls
- Kahlil Gibran
Christmas season was upon us and we could see from our window a brightly decorated vehicle carrying a portly Santa wearing gold rimmed spectacles and a copious beard that matched a glistening silver head of hair. His eager eyes were scanning our neighbourhood, while children ran to our front door singing carols bringing a festive magic to every home. The good cheer brought us much needed hope, peace and good will, after the recent losses of our loved ones. My dear mother was looking forward to new beginnings, that would ease the unbearable pain of the past year. We so enjoy those walks in Meppershall, our beautiful village in Bedfordshire, also known as ‘God’s country”. This time of the year was pristine with scattered snowflakes in the open countryside. The high street was adorned with multicoloured Christmas lights and the smell of fresh bread inviting us to peer inside Roger’s Bakery well known for its homemade cakes and mince pies. My ‘pocket mum’, lovingly described by my friends due to her petite frame, would hold on to me tightly as we walked, leaving a trail of tiny footprints in the soft snow.
The frosty morning of the 28th December 2017, a date we will never forget, was filled with the hustle and bustle of people preparing for the new year as we made our way to Lister Hospital in Stevenage, Hertfordshire. There is never a good day to receive bad news. My husband, Pradip, and I were ushered into the consultant’s office leaving my mother waiting outside. Seeing a Macmillan nurse entering the office, my heart began to pound against my chest. We did not know where the fine balance lay - between welcoming the bearer of the news or to fear them.
Seated in front of the consultant, we heard her clinical voice “You have something complex going on in your lower oesophagus (food pipe). You have cancer.” I leaned across and looked at the scans and the results on her computer screen, quickly grasping what was being conveyed. From this moment, everything felt surreal as we descended into utter shock and disbelief. Pradip’s face turned white as he went into a distressed state, tears welling up in his eyes. I blurted out