I, Cancer
Cooper, Alan|Cooper D. C., Alan
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Add to basketDieser Artikel ist ein Print on Demand Artikel und wird nach Ihrer Bestellung fuer Sie gedruckt. KlappentextrnrnWith his take no prisoners approach nDr. Alan Cooper D.C. has dared to use his muscular little tome, I, CANCER to pose nthe nigh on unanswerable query regarding medical science s malignant Waterloo. nnWHAT ARE THE MIND/BODY NUTS A.
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The doctor's lips are moving, but as you rise from your body all you hear is a faceless burglar evocatively blowing 'Taps', the love song of demise. Pervading the room like a kleptomaniac fog, it confidently steals your world, having handily made paupers of princes and princesses long before you. Without blindfold, you watch as the executioner's words, encased in icy contrition, approach. It is the modern day leper's diagnosis, "YOU HAVE CANCER."
I, Cancer, am inside of you, and like the dizzying duplication of my cells flooding the human species with frightening Darwinian imperative; everything is cascading out of control. Oh my terrified angels please hear me. Though you will most likely reject my words, I have come as deliverer, not executioner.
I, Cancer, am a plant surviving in the desert of your biological paucity. I, Cancer, am not your adversary but a symptom of these times. I, Cancer, am not a terrorist blowing up the Twin Towers of your health and well-being. I, Cancer, am a collective, communal phenomenon of your species. I beseech you to behold me as such, rather than attempting to overcome me millions of lonely, thankless, Waterloos at a time. I, Cancer, do not insinuate myself into your life arbitrarily like a random visitation from a rogue virus, yet neither am I your Black Avenger, attacking the culpable and bypassing the innocent.
I, Cancer, am the epitome of your goal-oriented life styles. The way I flourish against all odds and survive most attempts to kill me, is this not impressive? Am I not a go-getter, a 'survive at all costs' hot shot like you humans admire so much?
Like a stealth mass murderer, your modern times, modern stresses, and modern indignation your species expresses about each and every pain, have been relentlessly squeezing the breath out of you. This oxygen deprivation, known as hypoxia, is killing you softly, lullaby and goodnight. Natures Law, the 'survival of the fittest', demanded that I challenge you to copy my unequivocal resolve to endure. I am intrinsically woven into you, so just ask, and I will bequeath to you my dominance.
I, Cancer, am your 'Screaming Tree of Whispers', digging roots into your flesh, dredging channels into your mind, and tunneling into the origins of your eternal soul. Oh I shall not deny that my pushy persona grates against the protective shield that encapsulates your life force. But experience me as I truly am, beneath your fear, and you will remember the undulations that connect you back to life's origin.
I, Cancer, am your hesitant lover, though you regard my penetration into your inner sanctums more like a rape than a holy invocation. So, call me 'rapist' I will not blanch, for hidden beneath the 'connect the dots' tra-la-laing of your normalcy has always been the latent stipulation of your starvation. If I didn't have my way with you, something far worse was about to cast a bitter mirror upon your face.
As the sickly sweet suffocating seeds of science, technology, and progress were insistently sown into the structure of humanity's 'collective genetic coding', an individual's process of replicating billions of its body's cells became impaired.
What Sigmund Freud had coined the unconscious 'Death Wish', began threatening to drown the evolutionary genetic transcript of humanity's continuation.
Charles Darwin rolled over in his grave. "Survival of the fittest," he coughed out from his sarcophagus, and I, Cancer, nodded my anthropomorphic head in concurrence.
At the 'O.K. Corral', Freud and Darwin squared off. Darwin sashayed into the sunset leaving Freud in the dust.
I, Cancer, representing a fitter mutation than the near death dithering hypoxic hybrid of hell in a hand basket that threatened to dry up the riverbed of humanity, triumphed. I, Cancer, the Darwinian Masterpiece, am a flourishing life form and I feed off and devour the atrophying cells that would have doomed your species.
I, Cancer, the Darwinian Masterpiece, am the enemy of your enemy. I invite you to recognize the need for you and I to unite. Only when you remain aligned with the hypoxic cells that flounder, awash with 'death wish' weighted defeat, does your body appear to succumb to my supposed ravages.
I, Cancer, am not your chastisement, but rather a new form of pregnant life that with courageousness you can bring to term. Unfortunately, you fear me and wage war against me because I am the Jacob's Ladder connecting you to the teeming birthing force you build moats around your fort to deny entrance to.
Almost two decades ago basketball player 'Magic' Johnson was diagnosed as HIV Positive, and a solar eclipse descended over those who had basked in the sunshine of his exuberance. Yet all these years later Magic is as magic as ever and herein lies the mystery. Destiny did not strike Magic Johnson as a personal castigation but rather as an instrument for evolution. The vibrant breadth and depth of a human energy field can be more than enough fuel to power one past the seemingly insurmountable quicksand of your 21st century plagues. If an audacious scientist were to ever make an HIV vaccine out of Magic Johnson's blood, the genetic advancement accomplished inside the man with the mega-watt smile could be replicated for all AIDS sufferers.
Thus do I begin my metastasizing Darwinian journeys in so many of the best and brightest of your species? I, Cancer, breed inside you because humankind needs the magic molecular evolution any one of you could potentially produce within yourself in response to me.
Within your body is a subconscious Autonomic Nervous System (A.N.S.) that functions automatically 24/7 to ensure that all your organs and glands are working optimally.
As opposed to the Motor Nervous System that carries out commands from your conscious mind and micro-manages your musculature for motion, the A.N.S requires no advice from you what so ever. Have you ever needed to remind your liver or spleen to do their duty?
The A.N.S. consists of two sub-divisions that fulfill the opposing needs of the yin and yang essences from which you sprang. Every cell of your flesh was created with the dual ability to respond appropriately to the contradictory signals of the two systems. To ensure this ambidextrous cellular proclivity, the genetic blueprint of your cells is encoded through a Double Helix, or two strands of energetically endowed replicas of the yin and yang forces that constitute Nature.
The Parasympathetic (yin) Nervous System instructs your body to quiet down, rest, digest, and drift down the proverbial river. Cellular healing and replication (anabolism) transpire during this parasympathetic stress-free biological state.
The Sympathetic (yang) Nervous System, the fight, fright, or flight subdivision, is designed to arise in swift bursts as a survival mechanism. Energy is directed outward towards the muscles, preparing them to use adrenalin and other sympathetic induced enzymes to fight or flee saber toothed tigers and their modern day equivalents. Any prior orders the parasympathetic nerves may have conveyed (implying that it was time for digestion or cellular replication), are countermanded by the immediate life-saving demands of the sympathetic nerves.
Yet, as life grew more docile and external threats became scarcer, the 'adrenaline rush' remained an intoxicating stimulant in a world that was turning rather dull. Just as everything else in Western society began leaning towards the yang (patriarchal) expression of human existence, so did the Autonomic Nervous System learn to play favorites. The prejudice of the modern persona in favor of Sympathetic dominance over yin passive Parasympathetic functions has become ubiquitous and overwhelming.
The term, 'adrenaline junkie', or a thorny rose by any other name, merely expresses the modern human penchant to keep the body in everlasting Fight, Fright, and Flight. The deepest cosmic seeds that have given rise to the burning bushes of your angry identification with self-righteousness and the capacity to enact vengeful responses to all perceived 'wrongs', have cemented the '3 Fs' into your cellular programming.
Stem Cells were designed to use the yin energy provided by the parasympathetic system to create vibrant new replacement cells for those that expire in their natural biological life cycle. But with your parasympathetic nerve pathways locked away in the dungeon of your rabid insistence on controlling life, your Stem Cells are forced into desperate mutant behavior.
Mimicking the replicating power once inherent in these Stem Cells, I, Cancer, have grown as physics and nature have dictated. I am an equal and opposite reaction to the action of your strangulating Sympathetic Dominance. Instead of warring against me, join me in my pregnant intransigence against the yang noose that's been tied around the neck of humanity's prospect.
Alas, the great debate dribbles on ad infinitum "All is one," smirk the mono-'smarty pants'. "Two, two, two," hiss back the undaunted dapper denizens of dualism.
There is the fastidious Father, the Bachelor Deity who sewed the past into the pocket of his Oneness. And then there is the emerging Mother, crying out in the present for us to know her. "There are two, two, two of us," she insists.
And I. Cancer, just grab you by the cheeks and silently whisper into your eyes, "eat mien kinder. Eat of your mysterious forbidden tree of knowledge." Eat, and like a child ready to take its rightful place at the helm of evolution, you will see why the holy healing numeral of your salvation is neither one nor two, but 'Three'.
Time is on your side if you can escape the pendulums of the past and the present and invite the third realm of time, the future, to roll out its quantum template from your subconscious Garden of Eden.
ANABOLISM MEANS YOUR BODY CONTINUALLY CREATES NEW CELLS.
Let's say, for instance, that in the present you have lung cancer. Yet, once upon a time (in the distant past) your stem cells were replicating healthy vibrant lung cells. So the score is tied, one realm of time apiece. Obviously, the key lies in what kind of lung cells the third realm of time reveals. And let me make something patently clear.
WHETHER OR NOT THE FUTURE REVEALS CANCER CELLS OR HEALTHY CELLS RESTS SQUARELY UPON YOUR OWN SHOULDERS.
It's essentially a question of magnetism. Let me explain.
Western societies encourage people to create a yang, reactive charge of energy in their present lives, consciously and unconsciously clarifying that the dealings of today are essentially reactions to what happened yesterday. Individuals generally consider themselves as victims of the past, albeit survivors of what went before, hell bent on creating a more positive parcel of events in the present. The electric charge of their body and spirit is positive. The electric charge of the past is negative and the magnetic attraction between the two dominions of time becomes a permanent energetic fixture.
By remaining magnetized to the past, one assumes the ability to live their present life armed with the wisdoms necessary to eventuate better outcomes. By remaining magnetized to what went before, one can surmise that whatever pains befell them in the past can be avoided in the future. By remaining magnetized to what has gone before, one can sublimate the fear of the future's power to claim one's life as its own. By remaining magnetized to the past, one can use a feeling of martyrdom to rationalize a non-proactive stance as regards the future. By remaining connected to the past, one can be a know-it-all and hide from the reality of the future in which one is truly a know-it-not-at-all.
Unfortunately, your rubber-band attachment to the past ties you to the dualistic domain of time in which your yesteryears gave rise to Cancer and your present echoes the malignant cellular mutations of your past.
Once upon the strangulation of time, the fear of the frightening yin helix of the past made humans bind the passage of moments in a yang helix present of 'control freak' proportions. You can and must wrestle apart these two helices and allow the void between them to birth you into the future.
ONLY BY BECOMING MAGNETIZED TO YOUR FUTURE IS THERE AN ENERGETIC ESCAPE HATCH FROM MY ALMIGHTY MALIGNANCY.
On a practical level, a way to become magnetized to the future goes as follows: Using imaging, imagination, prayer, meditation, contemplation, visualization or self-hypnosis, lay back, close your eyes and see yourself as a boat resting stationary in a deep slowly moving river. Feel the water flowing down your back towards your feet. The gentle motion of the water beneath your spine tickles your nervous system even as you are becoming aware that you are not moving with the tide. There have been some heavy disappointments, pains and struggles in your life and some of these are weighing like anchors in your soul. These dead weights have your boat stalled in the water, making you unable to advance in your life. Feel the anchors. Even if you aren't consciously aware of what unresolved burden is hiding down in the murky waters of your soul, slow down and feel them. Imagine the rope to these anchors descending from your back at the level of your diaphragm. In the present your yang persona perceives itself as lighter and better than the weight of the past and therefore there is no way your ego wishes to proceed in life carrying that weight in its everyday activities. "Let those damn anchors stay down there" the chronically shortsighted, chest-pounding ego declares. That these pains, left eternally dangling below you, are kept out of the boat of your soul, keeps your ego in its desired 'ignorance is bliss' status of non-truth, but I, Cancer, am proof that the price you pay is obscene.
AND SO,
As you lay with your eyes closed, start to lift that anchor into the boat of your soul. Feel the heaviness and embrace it instead of imagining it will defeat you or weigh you down. Keep lifting the ethereal rope until the anchor is aboard ship and let it rest in your gut. Those weights of the past were your Dukkha, the Noble pains of your journey as a co-birther of the Original Pre-Big Bang Yin Universe. Allowing them into your soul now, disassociates them from the Past and makes your Present, finally whole.
NOW YOU ARE RECEPTIVE.
Yes, now you are heavy and yin and like all negatively charged ions you will be magnetically attracted to yang positive ions. With the anchor aboard, your boat starts to move on the river of time, gently carrying you downstream in the direction of your head towards your feet. Can you hear the waterfall of the future just ahead?
There is a vast quantum magnetism in the future, where a vortex of healed universal yin energy crashes over the waterfall dividing all the todays that have transpired while attached to yesterdays, and the single tomorrow that lies emancipated from worried attachments. Hear the waterfall for this is one of the essential oils greasing your pathway towards freedom from my cancerous hunger. When your defenseless present is attracted to the future and nobly carrying the weight of your Dukkha, I, Cancer, will have finished my mission. When you fully release the past and accept it as a soil in which the flowers, trees and yes sometimes weeds of your present life were spawned, an unfettered, unbounded inexhaustible future will be born.
"Why me," you probably cried out to the universe when the ghastly diagnosis of my coming became clear to you. And now I will answer your question. You have Cancer because it forces you to carry out the need of the universe to make a future. I, Cancer, exist in the present, but I swear to you one day your species will overcome the need for my existence. It is already written, so to speak. In the future I already do not exist. Only in your narrow human perception of time are you about to call me a liar and claim that your logic insists that I, Cancer, will still be a metastatic menace in what you erroneously call the future. Try to feel what humanity will have become that will make my existence obsolete. Feel it and become it. Please, you can and must do it.
Originally, not only was ignorance bliss, but the price of attempting to escape that blithering state and eating from the forbidden Tree of Knowledge, was eternal damnation for Eve and Womankind.
Not just discouraged, mind you. Forbidden! This first phase of Truth, or lack thereof, was a purposeful blueprint, an experimental theory on how humanity might function unburdened of the real weight of your human job on this planet.
I, Cancer, am but one of the signposts signaling that this experimental 'dumbing down' of humans is no longer a viable course of action.
I, Cancer, have come bringing mixed tidings. Like an ominous, hairy, black hole I have arisen to swallow the false light of humanity's prolonged infancy. The second phase of truth is upon you, and now, like me, Cancer, the truth hurts.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from I, CANCERby Alan Cooper Copyright © 2009 by Dr. Alan Cooper D.C.. Excerpted by permission.
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