My Journey with Farrah - Alana Stewart [56]
July 18, 2008
I just meditated on an amazing page in A Course in Miracles. The title of the lesson is “I will be still an instant and go home.” The part that stood out so clearly was about how there is this child inside each of us who is seeking comfort, but it won’t be found in the outer world. We must go inside, be still, let the world recede from our minds, let valueless ideas spinning in our heads be quiet, and hear His voice. In that instant, we will be at home, our true home, “in perfect peace, beyond all words, untouched by fear and doubt, sublimely certain that we are home.” I realized that this is what I’ve been searching for. I’m deeply exhausted and depleted—mentally, physically, emotionally—and I desperately wish I had someone to just put their arms around me and tell me everything will be okay.
Farrah and I were talking about that yesterday: a deep philosophical conversation. I said how nice it would be to have a man take care of me for a change. How a nice, boring, stable man suddenly looks so attractive to me at this point in my life. But maybe it doesn’t ever come from a man? Or maybe, I told her, it can only come from a higher source. From going inside and connecting with that sense of peace and joy and power inside of us.
All I know is that I felt this deep, deep sense of letting go. I felt this golden light wash over me, and I felt a sense of comfort and peace that I’ve never felt before. I felt as if someone were actually cradling me and telling me I’m safe. I felt such a sense of well-being. I’ve searched for this feeling in everything: men, drugs, spiritual pursuits. I’d go anywhere to try to get it, even if only momentarily, and I just felt it so deeply, with such an intensity.
Will it last? I don’t know. But I know I feel like my tank has been filled. I feel like I can go to London, be there for Kimberly, do whatever I need to do to take care of my own life, without feeling so deeply, desperately depleted. Without feeling like I’m running on empty.
I have to remember that this is the place I must go; that it’s always available to me. I don’t need to continue looking for it in all the wrong places.
August 29, 2008
I got up at six thirty this morning to come out to the City of Hope with Farrah and Ryan. She’s starting a new clinical trial treatment today with Dr. Forman. It’s called the IT-101 and everyone feels very hopeful and optimistic about it. The actual trial itself was completed a couple of years ago by about twenty people, but no results have been released yet because it’s not FDA approved and I guess they have to wait a certain amount of time. The doctor had to get special permission to do it now with her. She’s spent the last six weeks waiting to get cleared for this trial, and during this time she hasn’t been able to take any of her anticancer medications from Germany. Apparently they might interfere with this new treatment.
It’s 4:30 P.M. and I’ve come downstairs to get some tea and some fresh air. Farrah is having the chemo infusion now, which takes six hours altogether, so we probably won’t be leaving here until seven or eight. I’m exhausted, but I’m glad I came. I’ve been filming most of the day and I think I got some great footage. This film is probably going to be difficult for people to watch at times. Like today, when it took almost an hour for the nurse to get the needle into one of Farrah’s veins because they’re all so shot from chemo and IVs during the last two years. It was excruciatingly painful for her and so hard to watch her go through it. She’s so brave.
September 26, 2008
Yesterday I picked Farrah up at 8 A.M. to drive to the City of Hope for her third treatment of chemo in this trial. It was a long, grueling day for her. Nothing seemed to go smoothly. As usual, they couldn’t find