A LIGHT-HEARTED WALK

Yes, I have Stage 4 melanoma, but no, I am not a desperate man looking for some quack cure. I have what I think is a reasonable plan to explore treatment and I have enrolled in a clinical trial of an investigational drug which shows promise. That is the preface for the following story:

My daily walking meditation keeps evolving, and I'm finding variations are happening most every day. Overall, I think this has been a very positive activity and, if nothing else, is at least de-stressing. Although I have minimal expectations as to how this will affect my clinical outcome, I usually feel better after meditating. After all, I am a physician with a strong science background and, in general, expect treatment to be related to evidence-based outcomes. (Not to say that there is no evidence on the positive effects of meditation.)

So I came across part of my usual walking route today that was remarkably deserted. It's a particularly pleasurable part of my route with a wide, flat, straight path stretching about a mile and directly aligned with the summit of Mt. Tamalpais which stood out against the bright blue sky and streaks of white clouds. With no one else in sight and with calming music streaming though my ear buds, I kept my eyes barely open, concentrating on my breathing and trying to empty my mind while walking this path. A strange imagery started to build in my mind of a bright white light coming from the summit of the mountain and aimed directly at my heart. Every time I inhaled, some of this light would enter my body and as I exhaled a grey fog would leave my mouth. Now I am not on any mind-altering drugs, have no history of hallucinations nor brain metastases and I felt still completely in contact with reality, so in my scientific mode, I decided to just observe this phenomenon for a bit. The more I walked toward the mountain, the more it felt as if my body was becoming filled with light until at the end of that path I felt like the little luminescent plastic Jesus that used to be glued to the dashboard of my uncle's car and would glow at night.

I had no idea of the meaning of this illusion, but there was no doubt it was a positive experience. However, even I can take only so much of this Marin County guru stuff, so when I got to the end of that path I switched over to a lively jazz playlist and high-stepped it the rest of the way home, finding I had a big smile on my face.