One year ago this January, on a cold winter day, there was an unexpected knock on my daughter’s door. I was greeted by a stranger delivering flowers. Turns out they were for me.

Christmas was in the past and my Birthday was nine months away. Who on earth would send me flowers for no reason whatsoever?

Inside the brown florist wrapper were a dozen exquisite white tulips, from my friend, in Victoria. I had done nothing to warrant this gift, which made the beauty of the moment all the more wondrous.

Moreover, there was a second part to the surprise, which surprised me even more. My reaction.

For days I marvelled at the beauty of the tulips. They struck me as the most beautiful tulips I had ever seen. They lit up my life in the most extraordinary ways. I had more energy, saw beauty everywhere, minded the cold less and had unadulterated waves of joy. I felt lucky, blessed and grateful.

The power of kindness is evident over and over again from our friends, family and strangers. I swear those dozen white tulips, boosted my immune system.

Going a step further, however, I read an article in the New York Times, this morning, on a number of studies, showing the power of caring physicians to improve health outcomes. This research, including Stanford University, corroborates my direct experience while going through cancer treatment.

My medical team are brilliant physicians and specialists. Furthermore, they are caring. They provided me with almost immediate access to them, should I think I needed it. They did extra research on my behalf, to help with my decision making; their interest in my family and grandchildren was an unexpected surprise; there was always enough time for one more question. Never rushed. My opinions were respected and they generously offered both humour and personal anecdotes, along with all the tests.

I am convinced that their personal interest and caring made my treatment more effective and certainly less stressful. I believe it still.

The authors of the NYTimes article conclude “We often think the only parts of medical care that really matter are the “active” ingredients of medicine: the diagnosis, prognosis, and treatment. But focusing only on these ingredients leaves important components of care underappreciated and underutilized. To really help people flourish, health care works better when it includes caring.”

I believe that this kind of caring  is essential and particularly important for anyone with a chronic condition. If that is you and you don’t have it, ask others for recommendations. Turn over every stone to find it. It can change everything.

And even beyond the medical, don’t you all notice how life affirming it is to work with people who care. Take my webmaster, as an example. Thanks to Margaret Rode, I do not live in fear of all that can go wrong. Her steady hand, sharp mind and kindness allow me to be confident that any mistake I make can be fixed. And even better we have a lovely supportive friendship. All of her clients feel that way. Once caring is involved it is no longer just a transaction, it is a relationship.

We do better in all parts of our life when we are in the circle of giving, receiving and caring relationships. They are worth looking for and cultivating.

List of suggested articles this week:

Can a Caring Doctor Make Treatments More Effective NYTimes

We Will All Leave a Legacy – whether we like it or not Globe and Mail

When Happens When Your Doctor Blames You Washington Post

Note 1: Thank you taking the time to read these posts. Sending my best wishes and see you next week. Trudy

Another photo from Gottfried’s collection, with thanks. Hawaii rainbow.

Humour, from my understanding and experience boosts our spirits, if not our immune system. Granted, there is so much we don’t know for sure, but we all seem to benefit when we can have a good laugh. Funnily enough, we don’t all laugh at the same things.

Take laughter yoga, for instance. This highly popular program that is offered for people with illness, does nothing for me. I tried it and didn’t relate to the humour at all. Yet, we offered it at Wellspring, where many participants loved it.  We are all different and it is important that each of us pay attention to our direct experience, so we know what works for us and what doesn’t.

Life gives us opportunities to try new things. A curious mind can serve us well. Dr. Itami, the founder of Meaningful Life Therapy, used humour as a daily part of his non-medical prescriptions for his seriously ill cancer patients.

Not only that, he encouraged them to find something funny in their present condition. Not because their illness was funny, far from it. But as a shift of attention in learning to cope with the reality of where they found themselves.  A relief for that moment or two when they shared their story with others, and sometimes a longer relief as they went looking for humour.

And when that was an impossible task for some, they researched funny tales to tell each other, in their weekly study group.

When we cultivate a sense of humour, our lives improve. We probably all have people with whom we laugh a lot. I have one friend that as soon as she answers the phone we start laughing. Why? Who knows. But it has something to do with the irony of life; the cosmic jokes…we always feel better, when we hang up, even when we have been discussing a dire situation.

 I discovered Sufi tales, thirty years ago, and was introduced to the inimitable Mulla Nasrudin, who soon became my go to person to make me laugh. I have already included two of his stories in this blog and today I am giving you another favourite.

What you hadn’t thought of – from a collection by Idries Shah

If someone doesn’t say something to entertain me, shouted a tyrannical and effete king, ‘I’ll cut off the heads of everyone at court.’

Mulla Nasrudin immediately stepped forward.

‘Majesty, don’t cut off my head – I’ll do something.’

‘And what can you do?’

‘I can teach a donkey to read and write!’

The king said:

‘You’d better do it, or I’ll flay you alive!’

‘I’ll do it,’ said Nasrudin, ‘but it will take me ten years.’

‘Very well,’ said the king, ‘you can have ten years.’

When the court was over for the day, the grandees (persons of high rank) crowded around Nasrudin.

‘Mulla,’ they said, ‘can you really teach a donkey to read and write?’

‘No,’ said Nasrudin.

‘Then,’ said the wisest courtier, ‘you have only bought a decade’s tension and anxiety, for you will surely be done to death. Oh, what folly to prefer ten years suffering and contemplation of death to a quick flash of the headman’s axe…’

‘You have overlooked just one thing,’ said the Mulla.

‘The king is seventy-five years old, and I am eighty. Long before the time is up, other elements will have entered the story…’

I love this story. And it also reminds me about a reason to hope. Reality always contains an element of surprise – sometimes good and sometimes bad. David Steindl Rast and my Mother are my teacher’s on hope. Rast says: “To have hope is to remain open to the possibility of surprise even when everything turns out worse than we could ever imagine. Despair assigns reality a deadline, whereas hope knows that there are no deadlines.” My Mother, well, she always believes there will be something better around the corner. The surprising thing is,  because she expects it, she always finds it.

It seems to me that no matter what we do we will experience suffering in our lives. We can isolate ourselves and do our best to protect ourselves from pain. But to live fully we will ultimately experience it all, the full catastrophe, as Zorba the Greek puts it.  But we also experience the hope and joy, the love and laughter and if we stay open,  all the amazing imperfectly perfect people in our lives. And that is what counts the most, in the end.

Let’s find ways to enjoy our lives, and gently encourage each other along, while we can!

Note1: Here is a link to humour and other learning elements of this perspective, on my website  

Note 2:  And a link to Laughter is the best Medicine from my June posting, for those who didn’t see it.

Note 3: I haven’t forgotten my online workshop. I am picking up the threads this week and more information forthcoming.

Note 4: Thanks again, for reading my blog posts. If you know of others who may be interested, please be free to forward them on. See you next week, Trudy