Cancer Called Me Home

How cancer healed the relationship I have with my body

I didn’t cry when the surgeon told me it was cancer. I knew the diagnosis was coming, and nestled directly over my heart, the hard, palpable mass of cells felt aptly placed. 

Have you ever watched a young child trying to get a grown up’s attention? At first they might stand close by hoping their presence will be enough. After a while, they begin to tug at clothing, gently at first, then more insistently. Eventually the little one will voice their needs, louder and louder, until the grown up turns to look at them.

My body had been trying to get my attention; unexplained aches, migraines and more became the tugging on my awareness. Having failed in these attempts, I believe the cancer was my body’s way of voicing its needs in a manner I couldn’t ignore.

Leaning into intuition

At some point in the preceding years, I’d stopped listening to my intuition. The gap between what it told me to do and what I felt able to do, was too great and too painful to acknowledge. I’d ebbed away from the open-hearted, hopeful space in which I’d entered married life, and as my sense of personal truth became distant, I shut my heart down in an act of self preservation. It worked, for a while, but we are not designed to live in that clenched state for long. 

Upon discovering the lump, I knew it was time to tune back into that inner knowing. And when I did, I found a powerful and persistent awareness that significant changes were needed in my life. I knew I wouldn’t be able to heal the cancer in the same environment in which it had grown. So soon after, I left my marriage with two small children, and amidst the search for our new home, I made the doctor’s appointment.

When I shared my diagnosis online, I was struck by the awesome capacity of human kindness; for weeks I bathed in messages of compassion and support. Some of these messages spoke of ‘fighting cancer’ and ‘fuck cancer'. They undoubtedly came from a place of love and I whilst I received them in that spirit, the words themselves didn’t resonate. 

I didn’t hate this thing in my body. In fact, touching the tumour triggered an unexpected note of nurture in me, something akin to the maternal instinct that arises when we witness a child, any child, in a state of vulnerability or fear. To me, the cancer over my heart felt like a small creature, protectively curled up, trying its best to shield what lay beneath.

We’ve bound the word cancer up in such great fear. And I get that, I really do. I get why it’s scary; our mortality is scary, the unknowns of treatment are scary, the awareness that our bodies can fail, is scary. And yet, at this point anyway, I feel somewhat grateful for having cancer. I don’t say that from a place of spiritual bypass, I mean it. The disease shouted so loudly, I had no choice but to turn towards it and listen. 

Reconnecting to our bodies

For years I’ve lived at a distance from my body. Ironically, as an artist I’ve spent those same years exploring the bodies of others; viewing them as a gateway into accessing higher aspects of our existence. Cancer has challenged me to begin living that truth myself, and I find it exciting; the relationship I have with my body and my willingness to be truly present in it is, I believe, a gateway to so much more.

These words aren’t written from the other side of this experience, where I get to tell you that everything worked out okay; I’m actually right in the heart of treatment. But you know what? I believe it will be okay. I don’t know what the outcome of this journey will look like, but I know I needed to go on it. 

This won’t be everyones experience of cancer and perhaps ultimately, it can’t be anyone’s experience except my own. But we search for meaning in the events of our lives, and my simple hope is that in sharing the meaning I’ve made of this experience, I might offer someone else a moment of strength or solace as they turn to face whatever’s asking for their attention.

This article was originally written for, and published in, the Roots + Wings 2022 Anthology. On the date of this blog publication, Katherine has undergone a double mastectomy, is well and continues to embrace the deeply healing journey of coming back into her body.