• JUNE
2 0 15
•
Dear Friends, This year marks the 30th anniversary of the Commonweal Cancer Help Program. In honor of this milestone, we are devoting this entire newsletter to the work of the Cancer Help Program— stories of pain and grief, hope and healing, and sitting with uncertainty. When Rachel Naomi Remen and Waz Thomas and I created the Cancer Help Program 30 years ago, we started off on a wing and a prayer—and a dream: to help people living with cancer to heal. What has kept me coming back to the Cancer Help Program, year after year, is the power of love in the program. Indeed, in my 72nd year, nothing is more certain to me in life than the power of love and the heartbreak of loss. Survive love and loss, Montaigne said simply. And we are put on earth a little space, that we may learn to bear the beams of love, wrote William Blake. The Cancer Help Program is at the heart of Commonweal, as I understand it. And the heart of the Cancer Help Program is love. In the Cancer Help Program, we are on sacred ground, in sacred space, in sacred time. We come together in a ritual that takes all the sorrow and suffering of a lifetime and lays them on the altar of love. And by some power we neither can nor do understand, the suffering lightens. The light begins to filter into the darkness. We find a
way where there was no way. We begin to move. We enter into the dance of life again. Eight strangers come together on the first morning of a Cancer Help Program retreat. After four or five days, they discover, with astonishment, that they love each other. They discover that they love the staff, who have been doing this work together for decades. This circle of love forms a spaceship—like a UFO—that defies the laws of physics and lifts us into the far reaches of the transcendent. And when you experience that astral travel more than 180 times in the passage of 30 years, you never want to stop. You are an inner astronaut who forever yearns to return to the cosmos—your true home— the place from which you came. You came from love and you return to love. Love is your home. I am not saying that every moment of the Cancer Help Program is transcendent. It takes place in real time among real people. Yet the scent of love hovers like a soft mist in the air. We begin to see each other with the eyes of love. Love is not an emotion, Rachel Naomi Remen says. It is a way of seeing each other, seeing from the heart. Jenepher Stowell has a beautiful line about the Cancer Help Program staff that applies here. We are all quite ordinary people. But devoted to this work for
In the Cancer Help Program, we are on sacred ground, in sacred space, in sacred time. We come together in a ritual that takes all the sorrow and suffering of a lifetime and lays them on the altar of love.
decades together, we care about each other. More than that, Jenepher says, we see each other into being. That is what love looks like in the Cancer Help Program. We see each other into being. The secret to it all is so simple— but that does not mean it is easy. We know that none of us can have the least clue of what would be truly healing for someone else. Advice, counsel, and suggestions are so rarely helpful. What heals is to pose the questions that matter and allow each participant to find her own answer. And the most fundamental question of all is: What matters now? Because cancer has transformed everything. It takes you into a world that is fundamentally different from what your world was before. And it asks you: how shall I live now? And only you can answer that question. So the method of the Cancer Help Program is fundamentally one of inquiry, discernment, reflection, and remembrance. For we now remember what matters—as if we had forgotten it, and yet we knew it in our hearts all along. Michael Lerner, President For more information about the Commonweal Cancer Help Program, please go to www.commonweal.org/program/CCHP
A Curriculum for Deep Healing by Michael Lerner The curriculum of the Commonweal Cancer Help Program has evolved over time, but there is much stability: ■■ Yoga, meditation, deep relaxation, breathing ■■ Good food and learning how to prepare it ■■ A morning support group and an individual session with the co-leader ■■ Three massage sessions ■■ A sandtray session ■■ A session on finding sacred space ■■ Healing arts, music, or poetry. I lead two sessions where we explore five principle things—the first three subjects on Tuesday night, and the last two on Wednesday night: ■■ Choices in healing ■■ Choices in medical treatments ■■ Choices in integrative therapies ■■ Choices in pain and suffering ■■ Choices in death and dying. My Tuesday night message is simple: ■■ The most important thing you have is the power of your intention to heal. ■■ Healing can be physical, emotional, mental, and spiritual. ■■ Healing can take place both in living and in dying. ■■ What healing is for you is absolutely unique.
2
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
The oncologist can only give a prognosis based on average or median survival. But survival curves often extend far from the medians. They are pulled to the left—toward earlier demise—by those who feel hopeless, who cannot get adequate treatment, or have no sense of agency that enables them to believe that what they do can matter. Many CCHP alumni live far, far beyond their expected survival times. We have a number of alumni with metastatic cancer who are 15 to 20 years out and still vibrantly with us. People who come to CCHP, by definition, have a strong power of agency. They believe that what they do may matter. It is not a guarantee. But as our friend Marty Rossman, MD, says, you have the power to vote. You can’t know the outcome, but you can vote for an outcome. Our goal in CCHP is simple. We want to help participants discover how to live as well as they can for as long as they can. Then, when the time comes to die, we encourage them to know how they want to die and to do what they can to die as they would wish. Dying is the subject Wednesday evening, which many remember as one of the most important evenings in CCHP. I ask the participants two questions at the start: What are your beliefs about death? And what are your feelings about death? We go around the circle. Do you believe death is the end? Is there something after? Or is it a mystery? Do you fear death? If so, is the fear of death itself, or of suffering, or of leaving loved ones behind—or simply leaving a life that you love?
Some fear death. More fear suffering. And those suffering most are the mothers with young children. Theirs is a special grief. To me the greatest miracle of CCHP is how many young mothers leave having found a way to assuage their grief. Most participants in the program are women. Many have not had the experience of being cooked for, massaged, cared for, seen for who they truly are, listened to, and loved in this way for a very long time. Some have never had a week like this in their entire lives. The experience, for both men and women, but perhaps particularly for women, evokes a safe place for inner exploration unlike any they have ever experienced. So this, in outline, is the heart of the CCHP curriculum. You will note that it isn’t about cancer. It is about life itself. On every CCHP retreat, most participants find what they came for: deep healing that changes their lives; new understanding of therapy choices; new ways of dealing with pain and suffering; or new ways of living with the prospect of death and dying. For healing is ultimately synonymous with individuation—the great journey of our lives that Carl Jung described— the becoming of ourselves. A lifethreatening illness warns us that the end of this life may be closer than we had thought. And with that sense of immediacy comes a transformation—a knowing of the work that matters to us now—the work that remains to be done. There is no time to waste. CCHP is where some people come to look out across the Pacific toward their destinies. I have long thought that the power of the retreats stems in part from the willingness of the eight participants to find a way to work together that enables everyone to go deeper and further in healing work than they could possibly go alone. We travel a short space with them. And then we offer them a community to which they can always return.
Rough Initiations by Francis Weller, Co-leader, CCHP
When the door closes to the group room for the first time on Tuesday morning in Kohler House, we enter as nine discreet individuals, often carrying uncertainty and anxiety into the room. Tentative movements are made, perhaps to test the ground to see if it will hold the weight of what it is that has been carried into the circle. At some point, however, one of the participants risks revealing themselves and shares something vulnerable and raw. Suddenly, the space alters and the field thickens; we have entered the healing ground. The women and men who come to the Commonweal Cancer Help Program are in the midst of what I call a rough initiation. Traditional initiations are a time of shedding old identities and entering into a deepened sense of one’s place in the cosmos. These initiations happen within the context of deep ritual, community, and the sacred. It is the intention of the process to radically alter the sense of self within the initiate. The same is true of any life-threatening illness: we are not meant to come out of it unchanged. In the group sessions, the phrase, “I don’t know who I am anymore,” is frequently heard and, when spoken, there are many nods of agreement. The sacred crisis that accompanies cancer is one that shakes the settled experience of identity to its core and invites a renewed curiosity to explore what may be arising out of this time of illness.
The healing process associated with serious illness instigates a move within the soul to address all the “untended wounds” that have accumulated over a lifetime. I have seen this many times in my practice and in CCHP retreats. The initiatory threshold posed by the illness asks each individual to turn toward those places of suffering and to welcome them. In a very real sense, we are asked to become immense, to fully embrace all that has been abandoned, rejected, or denied in our lives. This is often hard to do. Opening the heart through selfcompassion is at the core of the work at CCHP. I offer the participants a list of 10 practices to work with that helps optimize the healing response of the body/psyche. I tell them that they can do these in any order, except for number one: number one is number one, and that is self-compassion. We are often so hard on ourselves—judging, condemning,
and blaming ourselves for whatever our circumstances, even for having cancer. To move into the territory of kindness, mercy, and compassion allows the heart to once again open and touch all of our suffering with a soft hand. This takes practice and support. This is the “solitary journey we cannot do alone,” as one of my teachers said. We heal in community. We heal by welcoming ourselves home and befriending our one precious existence. What began as a collective of individuals, concludes as a new village; a bond has formed between all of the participants, and the profound truth of the South African saying comes to the fore: “I am, because we are.” CCHP is an astonishing template for the deep work of transformation. I am honored to be a part of this holy ground.
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
3
Nowhere Am I Happier Merijane Block, a CCHP alum, recently sent this beautiful letter to her family and friends. She eloquently describes the impact CCHP has had on her life, and invites her community to support the program in her honor. We are grateful to Merijane for sharing this letter with us, and invite you to join the circle of support. My dear and beloved community of friends and family, As most of you know—because I always make a big deal about it—May 10th is my birthday. This year I’ll be 62. You also know that I’ve been living with cancer since I was 38. That’s nearly 24 years, and 19 of them have included Stage IV, metastatic cancer in my spine. You’ve been with me, many of you, since the beginning; some of you I have met along the way, on the same or similar path. Through surgeries, radiation, rehabilitation, you’ve shopped, done my laundry, cleaned my apartment—lived in it, even, when I was living in hospitals— written with me, cooked and brought me food … you’ve been with me in nearly every way humans can accompany one another, and in the darkest times of my life as well as some of the funniest and most absurd. And everything in between. Many of you also know that I have been unusually fortunate to have attended two week-long retreats in one of the most beautiful places in the world (I think), Bolinas, California, where the non-profit organization Commonweal lives and works. What you may not know is that both times, in 1999 and 2009, I was the
4
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
recipient of full scholarships that allowed me to take part in these retreats that were, and continue to be, life-changing and life-supporting for me and many of the very dear friends I met there. To provide the level of care, support, education, and the very real possibility of transformation that a week at the Commonweal Cancer Help Program provides, their actual cost is a little over $5,000. Commonweal asks participants, at this point in time, for $2,460—only IF they can afford it. If not, there are several scholarship funds that help to cover the costs that a person with cancer may not be able to meet, whether fully or partially. What this meant for me, personally, is that the generosity of others completely covered my fees, adding up to nearly $5,000. For a person they didn’t even know. Me! Since then, I have gone to every Alumni Day (they happen twice a year) that I have been well enough to attend, and given as much in donations as my fixed and limited income allows, and probably even more than it does. Such is the love and gratitude I feel for Commonweal, so deep is my commitment to the community I find
there, and my desire to help ensure its continuation for generations. So for my birthday this year, instead of giving me stuff, will you please spend that money by donating it to Commonweal? By doing so, you will help me to give a gift well beyond what I could give myself, and you will also help me do what makes living life still desirable and worthwhile for me: making a contribution to the lives and the healing of others. And you will be helping me to continue with my own healing. Nowhere on the planet do I feel more authentically myself; nowhere am I happier. I can’t say enough how happy your gift will make me feel, how much it will contribute to my sense of birthday celebration, and how shameless I have decided to be in the asking for this gift. And if you can’t, or you don’t want to, send a little love and light my way on Sunday, May 10th, because I love you anyway. With gratitude and love, Merijane To donate to the Commonweal Cancer Help Program Scholarship Fund in honor of Merijane’s birthday, you can either send a check to Commonweal (PO Box 316, Bolinas, CA 94924), or donate online (www.commonweal.org). Please state that your donation is in honor of Merijane.
Between Friends
Letters from CCHP Alums Imagine a dark and foggy night at Commonweal’s bluffs. Stepping from the cold into Pacific House’s welcoming and fire-lit living room, you meet the members of your retreat group. It’s Friday night and you’ve fallen in love, but you are already a little sad that the week ends soon. So, you talk a bit faster, listen more deeply, laugh a little louder, catch a tear before it falls from the corner of your eye. You are together for now. Connected. Yes, this will pass, but you carry the Commonweal experience in your heart. And a little fabric Commonweal heart in your pocket. We are passing legacy, one to another. And connections continue. The fall and spring CCHP alumni day gatherings bring together new groups.
Many New School events draw CCHP alumni and friends. In-person support groups in the San Francisco Bay Area keep locals in touch. And we have this marvelous, virtual Pacific House—this ongoing online support group. I’ve a proposal for those who are too shy to write: please speak into the circle. Use your voice, dictate what you’d say into typewritten words, share yourself with us. You can choose to follow an existing thread—a story, support, love, generosity, loneliness, despair, grief, hope, joy, depths, and heights. You can speak what’s closest to your heart, your experience now—as you’ve moved out from your CCHP week. Don’t let shyness, spelling, or grammar stop you.
Because each of us is necessary. We need one another. Our voices. Our listening. Our experience. Our reflections. Please use your words, your voice, to connect. I am here, listening with an open heart. The fire is blazing, the walls holding us are strong, the legacy enduring.
The Bolinas Lagoon does not know we rolled our clocks back last night. It shines flat and full under the afternoon sun forecasters had not predicted. Its shoreline guides us to Commonweal where we will listen to a talk titled “Fighting to the End,” a discussion on issues of death and dying. Four of us are in my car. I’m the driver trying to minimize curves along Highway One. Three of us share a bond of living with a cancer diagnosis and meeting through Commonweal.
who will not combine two drugs for her because it is not the standard of care. She calls these last few weeks of almost constant pain and growing weakness, a rough patch. We have pulled over a few times to allow her to throw up by the side of the road. Her friend from Tucson, here for a visit, places a hand on her back and offers a napkin from my glove compartment. When she gets back in the car we sit for a few minutes in silence. At Gail’s signal I ease back onto the road and we begin chatting again about sea kayaking and symptom relief. It is as if Gail is queen and we are her retainers. We pretend she is our leader while we
are colluding to manage her, giving each other knowing glances behind her back.
One of us is dying soon. Gail hopes the next treatment will buy her more time. She is angry with her oncologist
— Stephanie Sugars, October 1992, June 2009, and June 2012 Alum You can find more of Stephanie’s writing at www.mylifeline.org/stephaniesugars
A gulf is opening between her and us. I hope there will be a time when she allows us to say goodbye. — Terri Mason, February 2007 and October 2012 Alum You can find more of Terri’s writing at www.cancerwell@wordpress.com
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
5
Sitting with Uncertainty
Discussions and Ponderings of Cancer Help Program Alumni and Staff CCHP participants come from a variety of backgrounds, situations, and experiences, but they have one thing in common: they are facing what CCHP Co-leader Francis Weller calls a “rough initiation.” Through this initiation, participants learn to sit with uncertainty: waiting for test results, waiting for a diagnosis, waiting for healing to take root—or for the body to fail. In a series of emails and blog posts, CCHP alumni have created a poignant and inspirational body of writing around the perils—and beauty—of living with uncertainty. To read more by CCHP alums about sitting with uncertainty, go to www.cchpalumni.wordpress.com
www.cchpalumniwordpress.com
Not Knowing Sucks I think the waiting is the hardest part of having cancer. One of them anyway. Once you know what you are working with, it’s easier—you are in the new reality and your whole being adjusts. When I think back to having cancer the first time, there were some terrible, horrible days and moments, but generally, I was just in that reality—a person with active cancer. It had it’s wonderful moments, too, its gifts of clarity and changed focus and compassion and awareness of the community around me. Waiting was the hardest. Not knowing is the hardest. When I have waited for test results, I’ve reminded myself that “thinking my cancer has come back” or “wondering if it has” is far worse in many ways than simply living day to day with a diagnosis. It was the FEAR OF that was the worst, not the actual experience. If my cancer comes back, if it metastasizes, if in fact I will live an abbreviated life because of cancer, that will be my new reality and I will shift into it accordingly. Waiting sucks. That’s the reality. Not knowing sucks. —Laura Davis, June 2008 Alum Find out more about Laura on her website: www.lauradavis.net
6
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
Commonweal Circle The Space Between the Inhale and the Exhale
Thank you for convening our circle with your question and thanks to all for this conversation. I am feeling right now that my own capacity to sit with uncertainty descended upon me like a kind of grace from the moment I heard that I had cancer. Maybe because I was so young then and had always been so sure I would live to be 100, when I heard the news I felt that I had finally lost my innocence and started imagining my death. I have had nearly 20 years now to practice this, not in any formal way consistently (though I fully recognize the value of doing that) but every day, nonetheless. In my more enjoyable moments, I am simply curious, and in the painful ones, simply frightened—and everything in between, of course. On a practical level, I have trained myself to detach from test results until I get them, knowing that wishing for an outcome is a waste, as it already is what it is. I do what fully engages my mind and heart—connect with the people I trust the most and with whom I trust myself the most. I am also a profound believer in distraction and a little bit of denial. I read, I watch movies and favorite TV series … like that. I calm my body with hot baths and watching the sky change (mostly from the ease and warmth of my living room couch) and somewhere inside I know that I am waiting. It’s like the space between the exhale and the next inhale: nothing else has to be done until the next breath breathes itself. – Merijane Block, December 1999 and June 2009 Alum
As to the matter at hand Uncertainty chases certainty like a dog chases its tail. You do not need sleep to dream. Wake up. Your hound is barking. What a beautiful monster so near.
A few thoughts about “uncertainty.” We feel most uncertain in the absence —Waz Thomas of certainty. Being human, we crave to know who we are, where we are, or what will happen next. To come to terms with uncertainty and to hold it with less anxiety, we accept that we can never know with certainty what will happen the next moment, the next year, or next lifetime. There is little that is certain. Before we were diagnosed, how many of us knew we would be dealing with our specific ailments and diseases? The future leans toward uncertainty. That’s how it appears to work.
Shoes On, Shoes Off Shoes on, shoes off. Time to eat. Time to listen, talk, cry, laugh. Go pee. Shoes on, shoes off. Walk in the rain. Play in the sand. Wander the land to find the beach. Shoes on, shoes off. Eat again. Om time, the Namaste. Shoes on, shoes off. Wondering – what’s next for me? At two At three-fifteen At four-fifteen The rest of my life? Free time? Free thought? Free love? Shoes on, shoes off. Caring, loving in this community of the wounded. We heal, we become whole. Shoes on. Out we go living, loving, healed and whole. — Connie Mahoney, February 2002 CCHP Alum
But the known and the unknown are not opposites with begin and end points. It seems that they flow, move, and stretch into each other. One takes the lead—and in time, the other. In heartbeats of awareness, they are a moment in time. To still the quivers of uncertainty, recall a teaching from the Lankavatara Sutra: Things are not as they seem nor are they otherwise. Simple wisdom or just more words. Ease comes when we hold thoughts and perceptions gently. Hold them loosely with room to play and space to breathe. —Waz Thomas, CCHP Intake Coordinator
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
7
When I Have Gone When you hear that I have gone, honor me with a good death. If I die alone, marvel at my love of solitude; if I die surrounded, know that I loved good company.
BAYS members Alison McCreery, Erin Hyman (now deceased), and Jennifer Novak at the first Commonweal– BAYS retreat in 2012.
Bay Area Young Survivors: Healing Circle in Action by Ann Kim and Meaghan Calcari Campbell, BAYS members When Deb Mosley was diagnosed with breast cancer in 2000, at the age of 31, she found that most of the women she met at cancer support groups were much older than she was and didn’t face the same issues she faced, such as trying to establish herself in her career and nurture her burgeoning romantic relationship while dealing with all the appointments and pressures of a life-threatening disease. A few years later, when her cancer metastasized, Deb and her friend Angela Padilla founded Bay Area Young Survivors (BAYS), a support and action group for young women with breast cancer. As Deb’s health worsened, she attended the Commonweal Cancer Help Program (CCHP). Like countless people before her, Deb found the week-long retreat transformative—so much so that, when she died in 2008, a scholarship was established in Deb’s memory. So far eight women have benefited from CCHP’s Deb Mosley Memorial Scholarship. Recently, Commonweal partnered with BAYS on a project that Commonweal had been 8
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
contemplating for some time: could CCHP offer the same highquality opportunity to explore the physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual dimensions of healing with cancer in a shorter timeframe than CCHP’s signature retreat? In September 2012, CCHP offered the first two-day weekend retreat for BAYS members. It was a resounding success. Based on participant feedback, CCHP has extended the retreat’s length to three days and modified its content. CCHP now offers two weekend retreats per year: one open to BAYS members generally, and one exclusively for BAYS members with metastatic disease. Commonweal and BAYS plan to continue their partnership. BAYS will continue to help CCHP refine the three-day retreat format and is exploring a project to help women with young children cope with the fears, uncertainty, and grief of a cancer diagnosis. The healing circle continues. For more information about BAYS, go to: www.baysnet.org/
If my brother comes, know that we made peace; if he is absent, know that we respected our differences. At 82, celebrate my good long life; at 37, toast my wise old soul. If you hear I took the pills, accept that I was ready to surrender; if there were no pills to take, know that I considered taking the pills. If I do not suffer, let it be said, I longed for peace; if you hear that I was weeping, think not sorrow; but Glory, Magic, and Wonder. If I have time for parting words, let it be said, “They were profound!” And if I say nothing, be patient; it’ll keep, until we meet again. If my bones are ravaged, and the fire dances in the marrow, be comforted; I was curious about the fire, and say, “Damn! That girl could dance!” If I am wide-eyed and wild, gasping for air, imagine heaven is an ocean, and I just became a fish. If it is said that I was white-knuckled and clinging to the bed sheets, do not assume I wanted to take the bed sheets with me… Perhaps I just slid onto the seat of my new Harley, and I wrapped my fingers around the throttle… Vroom! Vroom! My God! Marilyn sure feels good with her arms wrapped around my waist, and her breasts pressed up against my back. — Deborah A. Mosley, BAYS Co-founder and October 2005 CCHP Alum. Deb died in 2008.
The Healing Nature of Sacred Space A lifelong quest to find “sacred spaces”—places of refuge, sanctuary, and healing in nature and elsewhere— has been at the heart of my own healing over many years, and one that has led my life in many of its most meaningful directions, including coming to work at Commonweal in 1987. Love of these places also led to the creation of the little meditation/prayer hut, called The Chapel, on the edge of Commonweal’s property, a place of refuge and remembrance for anyone who feels drawn there. — Jenepher Stowell, Senior Staff, Commonweal Cancer Help Program
A Temple of One’s Own On the roughside wall a wing made of feathers; on the cracked glass’s sill a row of shells; on a grey canted shelf a tumble of sticks, dead seeds, dry leaves, salt, washed out words on faded pages age-bleached and thin; on the floor grit, a cairn of skipping stones, and one bright purple iris, wild and newly planted in a pitted brown bottle returned from the sea. Prayer along the coastal woods is pagan ordinarily. Hierarchies crumble before the wind or waves or simple starlight. It’s hard for me to imagine needing other gods than these the Earth provides, for them to need my sort of worship. Where was I back when they made the winds to whirl? Where were you, Miwok, Ohlone, all who came before? You dance in my interior landscape as I dance in the landscape of your dying, my liturgy one long unnecessary midwife to a sacred space that makes its own weather. — Bill Henkin, February 2010 Alum From Bill’s poem, “Surround of the Living,” about his retreat week at Commonweal. Bill died in 2014.
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
9
This year is the 40th anniversary of Commonweal, the 30th anniversary of the Commonweal Cancer Help Program, and the 20th anniversary of ISHI— Dr. Rachel Naomi Remen’s program for physicians and health professionals. We are celebrating these anniversaries by seeking to create a long-term base for Commonweal and all its core work in healing. We’re not doing this in the usual way—a formal fundraising drive. We’re doing something different. We’re inviting those who believe in Commonweal’s work—and especially in our healing work—to consider putting resources to work in sustaining what, together, we believe in. Our culture has difficulty with money. But money is, ultimately, a form of energy—a particularly dense form of energy. When money is lifted up into service it has a completely different quality. We welcome your support: sending donations, making contributions of stock, including Commonweal in your estate planning, naming Commonweal as the beneficiary of a retirement
W I T H
or bank account, requesting that contributions in your memory go to Commonweal, or gifting property like houses, land, or vehicles. You can designate a gift for CCHP, for ISHI, for any other Commonweal program—or to sustain Commonweal as a whole. If you’d like to talk with us about a gift, please contact me or Oren Slozberg, our Chief Strategies Officer (415-868-0970; mlerner108@gmail.com; oren@commonweal.org) With deep gratitude, Michael Lerner To learn more about Commonweal’s work, go to www.commonweal.org
G R AT I T U D E
We express our deep gratitude to the following organizations that have supported Commonweal this year: AmazonSmile Foundation ● Annie E. Casey Foundation ● The Arthur Vining Davis Foundations ● Baron Charitable Fund ● Battery Powered—Battery Foundation Beauchamp Charities Fund of Tides Foundation ● The Bella Vista Foundation ● Bellwether Foundation ● Bet Lev Foundation ● BMO Global Asset Management Boston University/NIEHS-funded Superfund Research Program ● California East Bay Oncology Nursing Society ● The California Endowment The California Wellness Foundation ● Chang Family 1999 Trust ● Clarence B. and Joan F. Coleman Charitable Foundation ● The Clyde Theatre David Foster Wallace Literary Trust ● Deloitte United Way ● Drs. Ramesh and Lakshmi Kaza Charitable Fund ● Eileen R. Growald of the Growald Family Fund EMF Safety Network ● Fidelity Charitable Gift Fund ● The Flow Fund Circle ● The Frey Family Foundation ● The Fulton-Kunst Fund of RSF Social Finance ● Gado Gado Garden Creek Ranch ● GeroNova Research Inc. ● Globe Foundation ● Greater Houston Community Foundation ● Greater New Bedford Community Health Center, Inc. Gun and Tom Denhart Family Fund ● The Hale Fund ● Harmony Hill ● Healthy Children Organizing Project ● Hoppin Family Fund The Jacob and Hilda Blaustein Foundation ● Jeffrey Lee and Elaine DiFederico Charitable Gift Account ● Jenifer Altman Foundation Jewish Community Endowment Fund ● John Hancock ● Johnson Family Foundation ● Kalliopeia Foundation ● The Kat Foundation ● Kitchen Table Foundation Larissa Roesch Charitable Fund ● Liz Stinson Coaching ● Lloyd Symington Foundation ● Marin Community Foundation ● Marina Lee U’ilani Fund Masada Revocable Living Trust ● Matthew London and Sylvia Wen Fund ● Mayo-Smith Fund ● Miriam R. Arfin and Robert S. Rebitzer Philanthropic Fund MMHBO Fund at Schwab Charitable Fund ● Morning Glory Family Foundation ● Morris Schapiro and Family Foundation Muriel Murch Full Circle Endowment Fund of the Marin Community Foundation ● Murphy Productions ● Nathan Cummings Foundation Network for Good Giving Tuesday Matching Grant ● New York State Psychiatric Institute—Unit 116 ● Nike, Inc. ● Nordic Inc./D&D Fuel Oak Fund of Triangle Community Foundation ● Panta Rhea Foundation ● Park Foundation ● The Phillip and Gina Koo Family Charitable Fund PlatinumTel Communications, LLC ● Robert B. Feingold & Associates, P.C. ● Rockefeller Brothers Fund ● Rothman Family Trust ● RSF Social Finance Sante Fe Community Foundation ● Sapling Fund ● Schwab Charitable Fund ● Science and Environmental Health Network ● Sierra Health Foundation Silicon Valley Community Foundation ● Spaw Family Fund ● Stern Family Giving Fund ● Susie Tompkins Buell Fund ● T & M Frankel Foundation TheSpiritWorks ● Tides Foundation ● Triangle Community Foundation ● United Way of Metro Chicago ● University of California Vanguard Charitable Endowment Program ● van Loben Sels/RembeRock Foundation ● Wallace Alexander Gerbode Foundation Wallace Genetic Foundation, Inc. ● Wells Fargo Community Support Campaign ● West Marin Fund ● The Whitman Institute ● William Blair & Company, LLC WKK Foundation ● W. K. Kellogg Fund ● The Wright Gardner ● The Wyss Foundation ● and several foundations that prefer anonymity. 10
COMMONWEAL
■
June 2015
W I T H G R AT I T U D E ( C O N T I N U E D ) We offer special thanks and gratitude to the following Commonweal Friends for their generous contributions during the last six months: (Donations received after 4/7/15 will be acknowledged in the next newsletter.) Beverly Abbott Omar Abhari Mary Cochran Abraham Gerald Abrams David Adams Judith Adams Elaine Alberts Arlene Allsman Donna and Tom Ambrogi Susan Amussen Carolyn Anderson Anne Meade Andrews Corinne Applegate Benjamin Aresty Shannon Arndt Janet Arnesty, MD and John C. Good, MD Dolores Bacon Arlene Bagga, MD Robert and Carol Baird Deborah Baker and Telk Elkus Robert and Patricia Baldassano Juliana Balistreri Beverly Ballard Jaime Balsis Kathie Barbella Wyndolyn Barnes, MD Caryl Baron Hathaway Barry Julia Bartlett William and Patricia Barton Michael Bass Jeannie Battagin Lindsey Beaven Betsy Beazley Brandy Beazley Brooke Beazley Jeffery Belden Carl Belline Arlene Bernstein Virginia Bertelsen Deborah Binder Diane Blacker and Ben Davis Harriet Blacker and Henry Spector Keith Block, MD, and Penny Block Merijane Block Bernice Blumenthal Joseph and Maureen Blumenthal Barbara Bobes Rosemary Bowman Kathleen Bozzo Marion Brackett Patty Bradford Joan Nonie Brady Kerry Brady Barbara Bramble Dianne Bramwell Mary Beth Brangan Carole Brashear Paula Braveman and John Levin Linda Brickman Adrea Brier Alan Briskin Steven Bromer Brian Brooks Patricia Brown Phil Brown Jay and Inga Brumbaugh Cheryl Brush Phil and Judy Buchanan Linda Burke J. Stephen and Marjorie Burr Bonnie Burt
Rosina Butera Mary and Steve Callender Daniel Cantu-Hertzler Abigail Caplin and Amnon Goodman Alison Carlson Andrew Carman Sylvie Carnot George and Regina Carroll Maria Serena Castaldi Arnold Chace, Jr. Hedda and Hugh Chairnoff Pamela Chaloult Charlene Chang Deborah Koff Chapin Ross Chapin Emily Chi Sara Chieco Georgann Chiozza Elinor Christiansen, MD Amy Clark Jill Clark Margaret Clarke Susan Cochrane Joel Coen and Frances McDormand Adrienne Cohen Judith Ann Cohen Matthew Colavita Joan Coleman Elinor Coleman Neil and Judy Collier Philip Collora Eleanor Comings Paul Connolly Bruce Conrad Mary Anne and Rob Cook Stefanie Cooke Diane Cooley Bill Corbett Olivia Corson Cornelius Cowles Nance Crosby Pamela Culp Thomas Cunniff Alastair Cunningham Gregory Curci Anjanette Cureton Michael Cutburth Kenneth Dash Kathleen DeBeer Beth-Marie Deenihan Victoria deMara Phyllis Dempsey Mike Dentinger Abigail Derrig Michael Devlin, MD Michael Dillon Dina Divsalar, PhD Catherine Dodd Leslie Doughty Gloria Doyle Thomas Duncan Carol Dunn Kara Dunn Katherine Dunn Darlene Dymsza Richard Eagan and Elizabeth Ostrow Holly Earl Cynthia Eastman Cheryl Eccles Barbara and Richard Edmonds Leonard Edmondson Dan and Daneen Eilertsen Monica Elenbaas Leo Elizondo Barry Elson, MD
Renee Emunah Jaune Evans Kathryn Evers Dawn Fairbanks Kathryn Farley Deborah Farson Nancy Feagin Andreina Febres-Cordero Wayne Federer Robert Feinberg Robert and Janet Feingold Bruce Feldstein, MD Robert Feraru Susanne Fest Donald Fink, MD Mary Fish David Fisher Kovida Fisher Catherine Fitzgerald Phebe Fletcher Pauline Flynn Laurie Fonken Mary Ford Frankie Fox Jeffrey Fraenkel Tom and Myrna Frankel Carol Frechette Eileen and Jon Fredrikson Anne French Allison Frey David Frey Susan and Bill Friedlieb Donald Friedman, MD Aurelie Fritschy Donna Froese Daniel Fry Keri Furtado Stacy and Jim Gallagher Jocelyn Gandolfi Howard Gardner Matthew Gardner Neil Gendel Lynn Getz Robert Geyer William Gibbons, MD Alice Giblin Genevieve Giblin Wanda Gibson Lianna Gilman Cynthia Gin Jennifer Joy Glasier Peter Goldmark, Jr. Adelaide Gomer Blanca Gonsalves Pearl and Bill Good Shuli Goodman Paula Gordon Cynthia Graham Lindy Rose Graham Bess Granby Richard and Gretchen Grant Tammie Grant William Grant Karen Green Tova Green Elizabeth Greene Sadja Greenwood Joan and David Grubin David Gullion, MD Robert Gwyther, MD Miranda Haefeli Nedira Haik, MD Belinda Halonen Susan and Charles Halpern Pauline Hamilton Diana Hammer Judith Hammond Christine Hanley
Cecelia Hard Kimberly Harney Brenda Harralson Mary Harrington Ellin Harvey Steve Heilig Gwen Heistand Nancy Heldt Raymond Hemstreet Susan Hester Lisa Brumbaugh Hill Khalaf Hirmina Ananya Hixon Eva Hoffman Daniel Hogan Suneya Hogarty Debra Hollander Jan Hood, MD Marian Hopping Judith Howard Carol Howard Cynthia Hsu Ed Hsu Diane Huerta Bettina Hughes Betsey Hull Lauren Hunt Marion Hunt Jane Hunter John Hunting Mary Hurley Tague Hurley Terumi Irizawa Mami Ishii Eileen Jackson Patricia Jackson Richard Jackson MD, MPH Sam James Anne Jenkins Mark Jensen Colleen Johns Nancy Johnson Sarah Johnson Stuart Johnson Tracy Johnston Donald Jones Jacqueline Jones Philip Kalfas Sanjay Kamat Jane Rachel Kaplan Leslie Kaplan Ellen Kaplan-Maxfield Miki Kashtan Barbara Katz Rebecca Katz Sister Monica Kaufer Pamela Kavanaugh Mary Kehl G. Berk Kellogg Gary Kelson Amber Kennedy Kathy Kerdus Christine Kessler Mini Khroad Cecily Kihn Ann Kim Jennifer Kitt Kristal Klotz Amanda Kokeh Harriet Kossman Ronda Kotelchuck Bob Kotkin Kathleen Kraemer Maxine Kraemer Mary Kraft, MD Lan Krall Marty and Pamela Krasney Patricia and Larry Kubal
Carolyn Kuhlman Alex Kushner Ellen Labelle, MD Laurel Ladevich Joan Lamphier Lynn Landor Philip Landrigan, MD Nancy Langhans Jonathan Larson Robin Latham Ashley Lauderman Karen Lazarus Philip Lee Rebecca Lee, MD Erica Lennard Mary Lenox Michael Lerner Susan Lessin, MD Phyllis Levin Emily Levine Diane Levy Amy Liang Diana and Kelly Lindsay Nancy Lindsay and Timothy Vendlinksi Toni Littlejohn Hanmin Liu and Jennifer Mei Connie Lloyd Kristin Schoenleber LoBasso Victoria Locke-Carty Juliet Lockwood Haven Logan Rowan Lommel Maria Lovalvo Larry and Carolyn Loyd Kim Lucas, MD Julia Lunsford Margaret Mackenzie Daniel Magraw Christa Maguire Rhonda Maloney Heather Anne Manchester Michele Mandell Yvonne Mansell Lucille Marchand Gene Marchi and Travis Smith Vanessa Marcotte William Marcus Alan Margolis Carol Marino Joani Marinoff Caroline Marks John and Barbara Marks Susan Collin Marks Dolores Martin Joan Gilbert Martin Lori Marx-Rubiner Marsha Maslan Terri Mason Elaine Matisoff Maureen Mavrinac Katrina Mayo-Smith William Mayo-Smith Lesley McAllister John and Margaret McCadden Elaine McCarthy Mary Lee McCune Krysia and Gary McCurdy Beth McDevitt Nancy McFadden Heather McFarlin Laurie McMillan Marie McRee Joshua Mehlman Myra Melford William Mentzer Josephine Merck Doris Meyer
Joyce Meyer Zanne Stuart Meyers Donald Middleton, Jr. Jean Milam David Miller Elise Miller James Stewart Miller Robert Miller Steven Miller Kyra Millich Lee Carpenter Mitchell Ingrid Mittermaier Cherie Mohrfeld Jill Moore Kenneth and Kristen Moore Paul Moore Gwendolyn Morgan Casey Morrigan Karen Morrison Melinda Morrow Harriet Moss Elizabeth Muchow Pat Mullarkey Erma Murphy Lynn Murphy John Myers Carol Naber Judith Nagelberg Bruce Nayowith Amelia Neffati Lewis Nerenberg, MD Shirlee Jeanne Newman Susan Newstead Michelle Nietz Sylvia Nobbmann Carolyn North Sheila North Michael Northrop Amy Harvey O’Keeffe Anna O’Malley Brendan O’Rourke Angela Eunjin Oh Julie Ohnemus Shelia Opperman Michelle Oryl Meg O’Shaughnessy Richard Paine Sharon Daloz Parks Margaret Partlow Amy Paterson Lynn Patinkin Helen Patterson Marjorie Pattison Adriana Pavletic Tracy Peng Ruth Penn Kim Peretti Liz Perle Janet Perlman, MD Elizabeth Irwin Perry Julien Phillips Diane Pick Nina Pick Edith Piltch Krista Pinto Susan Pizzolato Ayn and Charles Plant Gary and Jean Pokorny Susan Poliwka John Pollinger Rachelle Portner Suzanne Pregerson Valerie Purvin Michael Rabow Dan and Tamara RademacherSchwartz Kim Ramseyer Lisa Ranalli
Daniel Raskin John and Judith Ratcliffe Jude Rathburn, PhD Catherine Regan Elizabeth Richardson Susan Richter Norbert and Hilary Riedy Penelope Ries Colleen Riley Dorothy and Tom Rinaldi Eileen Riordan Zoe Rivers Bill and Joan Robbins Elizabeth Muir Robinson Catherine Roehl Barbara and Peter Romanoff Charles Roppel Gary Rosenfeld Diana Rothman Laurie and Ken Rothman Gail Rubin Louise Ann Rubin Sallie Rubulotta Robert Rufsvold, MD Mary Russin Martha Sanchez Susan Santiago Lorna Sass, PhD Thea Sawyer Ceil Scandone Sarah Schafer Karen Schanche Steve Schechter John Scheels Ted Schettler, MD Patty Schmidt Claire Schneeberger Mary Schneider Joyce and Jim Schnobrich Gretchen Schodde, ARNP, MN Philip Schrodt Renate Schubert Francine Schulberg Alyson Schwartz Sandy Scull, Julia Weaver and Xander Weaver-Scull Benjamin Sellers Erica Shafroth Judith Bloom Shaw Martin Shell Cynthia Shelton Paula Sheridan Shira Shore Annemarie and Brian Shovlin Sharon Shustack Bernard Siegel, MD Glenn Siegel Jill Silliphant Linda Silvers Meg Simonds Nimi Singh Jennifer Antes Sivertson Selma Skobac Susan Slatkoff Emily Sliman Donald Smith Randall and Daune Smith Sally Smith-Weymouth Janet Sollod Barton Sparagon David Spaw Paul and Lorraine Steffen Mary Stephens Kathryn Stevens James Steyer Michael Stjernholm Maria Straatmann Carol Stratford
Joe Straton Jeanne Strong Marilyn Strong Jill Stryker Mary Ellen Stuart Sara Stuart Stephanie Sugars Susan Suriyapa Patrice Sutton Richard and Sandi Swiderski Toby Symington Gregory Tarsy Judith Tate Stephanie and Scott Theirl Claire Theobald Wanda Thomas Kaylan Thornhill Susan Tibbon Barbara Tittle, MD Louise Todd Eveline Tom John Torgerson Leslie Towery Rachel Trindade Nealy Troll Lisa Trost Mary Evelyn Tucker Melissa and John Tydlaska Monica Uhl Debora Valis Mary Ann and John Valiulis Sarah Vallim Paula Barber Vanderwoude Cory Vangelder Andrea Vecchione Michelle Veneziano George Viramontes Victoria Vogel Alexander Von Hafften Andrew Wagner David Wagner Murry and Marilyn Waldman Ole Waldmann Jennifer Wammack Debra Waterman Sandra Jo Eastburn Weil Beatrice and Gene Weinstein Patricia and George Wellde Catherine West, MD Ruth Wetherow Jill Wharton Catherine and Peter Whitehouse E. Regina Widman, MD Maura Singer Williams Nate Williams Roy Williams Than Than Win Bonnie Witkin-Stuart Cynthia Wood Mardi Wood Steve Woodward Robert Woolley Anthony Yarborough Lani Young Mariko Zapf Elizabeth Zarlengo Rose and Eddie Ziemak Simon Ziviani Estate Irving and Ellen Zucker Richard Zuckerman and several anonymous donors.
COMMONWEAL P. O. B o x 3 1 6 , B o l i n a s , CA 9 4 9 2 4
P H O N E : 4 1 5 . 8 6 8 . 0 9 7 0 ■ FA X : 4 1 5 . 8 6 8 . 2 2 3 0 ■ w w w. c o m m o n w e a l . o r g Newsletter Editors: Diane Blacker and Kyra Epstein ■ Newsletter Design: Winking Fish
■
■
commonweal@commonweal.org
P. O . B o x 3 1 6 Bolinas, CA 94924
In 1993, Bill Moyers featured the Commonweal Cancer Help Program in “Wounded Healers,� an episode in the PBS television mini-series Healing and the Mind. You can view the video by going to www.commonweal.org/in-the-media.