The Big Letter - 2022-23
Hello All!
Right after I send this, I'll be heading to UCSF for my next big scan to monitor my continued complete remission... Wish me luck!
In the meantime, I wanted to send you my 2022-23 annual letter to share some of the headlines from my last trip 'round the sun. I wrote this "epistole annularis" back in January, and I've been gradually mailing out copies. Now, in May, I'm finally ready to post it digitally.
I hope you enjoy!
PS. Just in case you feel inspired, ye olde healing fund is still accepting contributions!
My Dear Soul Family,
2022 has been an amazing, humbling, sweet year — one of physical rehabilitation, family connection, spiritual expansion, celebration of life, and working to create a rich, new definition of “normal” after last year’s remarkable struggles and powerful lessons. It was also a year replete with its own challenges and surprises — but are these not essential aspects of the privilege of being alive?
What can we do but smile and give thanks for it all?
This autumn alone was full of marquis events, the most notable of which was my long-awaited achievement of a completely negative “no evidence of disease” CT scan — something I’ve been praying for and striving toward for nearly two years. I also returned recently from a life-changing trip to spend time with indigenous people in Brazil. Back in October, we celebrated Satya’s 10th birthday. In August, she started fourth grade while I began a new role at work. There was, of course, our month-long father-daughter trip to Europe in the summer, and all that came before it. And then, this Winter, there was the unexpected hit of being terminated from my job of nearly five years!
Yes, it has been quite a year. And I’m excited and honored to take this opportunity to somehow encapsulate it all in a letter and share it with you.
It’s hard to believe that just a year ago I was sending an annual letter featuring photos of my snow trip to Mount Shasta with Satya, as I was just beginning to truly regain my strength and energy (and hair!) following that arduous summer of chemotherapy and an intimately frightening dance with cancer. So much has happened since then, it will inevitably require several pages. Thankfully, I’ve got some blanks on hand.
The beginning of 2022 was characterized, above all, by recovery: going to the gym, eating healthy, resting well, and continuing with disciplined self-care after scans in December and March showed the lymph node that had hosted my 2021 cancer recurrence gradually making its way back to normal size, but not quite (yet!) in range.
While my remission was not considered by my doctors to be complete, I was moving into a new phase of survivorship — and I sang that lovely tune from some of the highest black-diamond peaks at Palisades, Tahoe, on a snowboarding trip in January with a dozen fellow young adult cancer survivors, organized through the Send It Foundation. It was my first time on a snowboard and my first time ever tasting fresh powder like that, and in addition to forging lasting connections with some amazing kindred souls, I found a new joy (and a new hobby!) while repeatedly shredding my way down the mountain.
A journey with Satya to New York City in February further heralded what would ultimately become a year bedazzled with abundant travel. We were lucky
to be in my old home town for snow flurries, ice-skating in Central Park, visiting some old haunts in Greenwich Village, hanging out with my dear friend Mark, eating copious pizza and falafels, and taking in some Broadway shows — including our very favorite musical, Hamilton! It has provided an enduring soundtrack for us both throughout the year. Fellow initiates out there will understand me when I say — with more meaning now than ever — “I’m not throwing away my shot!”
In April, I had my second weeklong healing retreat working with some ancient Amazonian healing therapies that have become an ineffably significant part of my healing journey over the last year. My work with this powerful healing lineage began the previous November, prompting me then to make the supreme decision to be 100% free of alcohol. As my journey deepened this spring, and further still in the fall, I continued to shed additional layers of physical, emotional and spiritual detritus, heal copious trauma, integrate my life, and come into closer communion with my truest and healthiest self.
My last fifteen years of profound work with ceremonial medicine is difficult to casually nod at in a letter like this — and it certainly bears deeper exploration in my impending memoir — but suffice it to say, for now, that this year I’ve found a strong sense of community belonging, personal meaning, and increasingly vibrant health through this work with the traditional medicine lineage of the Noke Koi tribe.
Over the course of the springtime, after nearly a year on medical leave to focus on my health, I began to ease back into work at Quest Forward Academy, the Santa Rosa private high school where I’d served as a mentor and community leader for over four years. Most of my work in April and May was focused on leading the graduation and other end-of-year activities of a very special group of students, most of whom began attending QFA during my first year there, and who I taught and mentored for four years.
At the students’ request, I delivered their keynote commencement speech, which represented my graduation as much as theirs. It was on that very stage, just a year earlier, that I had struggled through intense pain which, unbeknownst to me, represented a growing collection of overly enthusiastic cells that would trigger the most frightening experience of my life. This year’s speech was not only an initiation into adulthood for my students, but an initiation into renewed life for me (and If you haven’t heard it yet, I invite you to check it out on my website or YouTube channel!)
After graduation, I kicked off an epic summer that more than made up for my estival convalescence the previous year. My Golden State Warriors were on a tear that seemed to represent the ass-kicking I felt like I was doing in my own life. I was in the house at Chase Center for one of their most memorable matches ever, an iconic Game 6 playoff victory over the Memphis Grizzlies that sent the Dubs to the Western Conference Championship. Weeks later, as they took on the Celtics in the NBA Finals, I headed to Baja California for a weeklong Bhakti Yoga retreat filled with asana practice, meditation, spiritual connection with wonderful people, and long nights of devotional music and dancing. While I was there, watching on from a cantina in Todos Santos, the Warriors won it all. (Unfortunately, no such luck this year!)
I came back from Mexico with a reinvigorated yoga practice, a great tan, and my first-ever case of Covid. Those two weeks of quarantine after my trip were their own kind of medicine; they provided just the time and space I needed not only to rest, watch movies, and reflect on the year since my second diagnosis, but also to make final arrangements for the monthlong trip to Europe with Satya that I had been planning since spending my previous birthday (literally) in the chemo chair.
As I faced the Angel of Death in 2021, I was reminded of all that I wished to live for, all that I wished to do and feel and accomplish, with my remaining life — and I vowed to myself then that if I survived the year, I would not wait to begin creating those experiences and living those dreams. Taking a leap of faith, I used the many credit card points I had earned paying off thousands of dollars worth of medical bills to book our passage overseas. As the summer of 2022 arrived, it was time for Satya and me to make the long-anticipated journey.
The day before we boarded the plane, kicking off what I began to refer to as my “I’m Still Alive World Tour,” I had a CT scan showing further reduction in the size of that outlaw lymph node; it was just 1.1 centimeters — less than a tenth of a centimeter outside normal range. It wasn’t (yet!) the grand “no evidence of disease” proclamation I had hoped for, but it symbolized a major step closer to relief. After sharing a night of celebration and joyful tears with my mom, I set off across the pond with my best friend and darling daughter. The month was something of a timeless blur, and it’s bound to take up a few pages.
Hope you’re ready!
After flying out of SFO, our tour began in London, sightseeing, riding electric scooters all over the place, visiting my beloved friend Aliza and her growing family, and showing Satya where I used to live during my 2005 semester abroad.
There was a record-breaking heat wave all over Western Europe, and we were just beginning to find our stride for the long journey ahead — but I really cherished that first week.
London is like a home away from home for me, and this was my first time back since residing there. It’s charm has only increased in that time, and much like New York, it is a place to which I’ll forever be magnetized.
We then rode the Eurostar train to Paris, where we rendezvoused with Satya’s mother, Alaina, for a week. Including my esteemed coparent in the trip was her precondition of blessing my request to take Satya away from home for an entire month, and it was a meaningful gesture toward maintaining a close and cohesive family even though we are happily separate and leading our own lives. It was sweet. We were all together at the top of the Eiffel Tower at midnight as it became Bastille Day, under a full blood moon, with countless professional-grade firework displays lighting up the city around us from all angles.
As the heat persisted, we played tourist — visiting the absurdly lavish Palace of Versailles, appreciating the works of Monet and Magritte at the Musée Orangerie, riding still more scooters around the city, touring the Seine by boat, attending an epic water park in the city where I was required to purchase and wear “appropriate swimwear” (which meant a speedo), and even spending a long and playful day at Disneyland. But my favorite Parisian memories by far were simple moments like walking around the corner from our Montparnasse hotel to enjoy a morning croissant and espresso, talking with locals while doing my laundry at a neighborhood laundromat, and taking deep breaths on my balcony while glimpsing the iconic Tour Eiffel in the distance.
From there, Satya and I continued on by train to Amsterdam for a couple of sweltering and action-packed days, which we spent riding bikes all over, frolicking in fountains, visiting the Anne Frank House and Van Gogh Museum, drinking green smoothies, eating the best fries we’ve ever had, piloting a boat through the canals, and swimming in the fresh water. Somehow, those two beautiful days felt like an entire week! In my 20’s, I made many happy memories in Amsterdam, but this topped them all.
Before we knew it, we were on our way to Copenhagen, spending a long day en route dealing with rail delays in Germany — with smiles on our faces. This part of the trip was kind of like an intermission, or perhaps a short second act in a three-act play.
In Denmark, we came across the first of many relatives, as we toured the canals, enjoyed traditional smørrebrød, and replaced Satya’s shoes (which were completely falling apart). We also spent an awesome day at Tivoli Gardens, an age-old theme park (roller coasters and all!) right in the middle of the city. Hilariously, as we got an ice cream on our way out of the park in the evening, Tom Jones was performing on stage, to the adulation of thousands of screaming boomers. Satya also overcame some hesitation that day and faced a couple of major thrill rides — and enjoyed it!
As an aside, I have to acknowledge what an amazing travel companion Satya has become. She dealt with the long flights and jet lag, the unexpected day stranded at Hamburg Central, and countless other travel hiccups, with admirable grace. I’d gladly take her with me anywhere. I’m also proud that we spent a month on the road together with naught but a single carry-on each. But this kid... she is a true road warrior, par excellence, and she delights me more with each passing day.
The second half of our trip was the deepest and richest part yet. While the first half was full of fun, touristy father- daughter time, the final act placed us in the midst of more cousins than we could count — embracing us, hosting us, feeding us, and showing us our very roots.
We spent over a week in the area of Skåne in rural southwestern Sweden, enjoying family feasts, swimming in our ancestral waters of Kattegatt (of Vikings fame), journeying to the remote farmhouse in Boalt where my grandfather Filip was raised in a single living room with his eight siblings, and touching the earth in the churchyard of Hishult, where my great- grandparents Fritiof Palsson and Anina Funck were married and ultimately laid to rest.
Our cousin Lisbet gave us a photo scrapbook and allowed me to scan dozens of pages of family records with my phone, and our eldest living family matriarchs honored Satya with many beautiful gifts and sweet treats. We enjoyed the Swedish tradition of fika, which is kind of like a Spanish siesta, but instead of taking an afternoon nap, people gather to share coffee and sweets. On our last day in Skåne, we were guests of honor at a banquet with over 50 cousins at a local cultural heritage center. I was touched by the outpouring of love, and I was grateful to offer a toast of appreciation to all those gathered. After photos, we boarded a train to Stockholm.
The final (ish) leg of our trip was now upon us. After a night in Stockholm, we traveled by bus to Djurönäset, a spa in the Stockholm Archipelago, where we swam, kayaked, rode bikes, played on the beach, and soaked in a warm infinity pool overlooking the frigid Baltic Sea. Djurö was a restorative pause and a much-needed chance to decompress in the midst of all the new stimuli that greeted us daily. We then returned to port and embarked on an overnight Viking ferry to Helsinki, Finland (complete with our own bedroom and balcony). As we crossed the sea, I watched the sun set in the middle of the night over a glorious aquatic horizon and gave thanks to be alive.
In Finland, we began connecting with members of the Korpi family lineage of my paternal grandmother, Frances. Cousins showed us around Helsinki for a couple of days, we scooted about town, and then — on the eve of my 37th birthday — Satya and I boarded our sleeper cabin on the “Santa Claus Express,” an overnight train to the northern lands of our Finnish origins, near Oulu.
Again, we were welcomed by a tribe of strangers who immediately embraced us, fed us amazing traditional food (including reindeer), showed us photos, taught us family lore, and guided us to a greater understanding of who we are. We were taken to a gorgeous bird sanctuary and an animal park, and then we were shown the rural, densely forested, moist — and surprisingly mosquito-ridden — land inhabited by generations of our ancestors. (In Finnish, our family name “Korpi” means “wilderness.”) Our cousin Sakari gave us a long, handwritten account of our family history dating back hundreds of years. A visit to a local museum on our last day helped color in what life might have been like for our ancient indigenous ancestors.
At long last, after a couple of final days in Stockholm and a brief visit with some more cousins there (urban folk, who were much closer to our age!), it was time to make our way back home — nourished and enriched by our time together on the road, more deeply connected to our roots, and with a new sense of belonging in a much larger family than we ever thought possible! Little did we know, the trip was far from over.
On our way home, we faced catastrophic flight delays, which resulted in us “having to” spend two unexpected nights in New York City. Poor things! We were stuck strolling around the Center of the Universe and eating the best pizza known to man! After our previous week in NYC back in February, it was a treat to show Satya what a different place New York becomes in the summer. We caught some epic tropical downpours, took in a movie, drank boba on Washington Square, and were home before we knew it.
I’m so thankful for the support that made such a trip possible. I’m grateful for the credit card points that got us there and the GoFundMe donations of the last couple of years that not only kept us afloat during the hardest times, but also helped me feel like I could afford this once-in- a-lifetime experience. And I’m especially grateful for all the hospitality of our family members in Scandinavia — the time, food, lodging, and love they shared with us so freely. I’m also grateful for Satya’s awesome companionship on the road and in life. And at the end of it all, I’m grateful for the opportunity to share the story of our travels with you!
After our belated arrival at SFO, we had to hustle home. The next day, I was straight back to working full-time, starting in a new role as a career counsellor (and continuing in my unofficial role as a community weaver) back at QFA, where the autumn semester flew by in a whirl of teaching classes, coaching students, setting up internships, booking guest speakers, advising student council through spirit weeks and a homecoming dance, and orchestrating a hugely successful Career Day that brought in 20 professionals to share their passion and expertise with our students.
Meanwhile, Satya began her fourth-grade year, which included the surprise departure of her beloved teacher, and the temporary installment of a suboptimal replacement — which had the unexpected side-consequence of unifying the fourth graders against a common obstacle. In October, we celebrated Satya’s 10th birthday with a “super” birthday party that featured kids making superhero costumes and bouncing on the trampoline, parents hanging out for an impromptu jam session in the living room, and four of Satya’s closest friends staying over for a slumber party (and giggling together until well after 1 a.m.). A week later, we went out trick-or-treating, clad as Little Red Riding Hood and Robin Hood.
November came quickly, and with it, another long-awaited CT scan and another international trip. I was invited to Brazil for two weeks to stay with the Noke Koi tribe, in a spirit of service and support. We would not only be participating in indigenous healing ceremonies; we would be connecting with tribal brothers and sisters and working on projects related to hunger relief, housing, infrastructure and education. A week before flying out, I showed up for my CT scan — and right from the start, this scan felt different. It took place at UCSF instead of the customary location of Marin General, and it just had a different vibe. I had a feeling it would be good news... And. It. Was!
I found out by email the next afternoon — and then discussed further with my doctor and my mom on zoom — the results of the imaging: The scan showed absolutely NO EVIDENCE OF DISEASE! I had made it. After a grueling summer of treatment, long months of recovery, and a few uncomfortable seasons of uncertainty, I could finally proclaim, “Remission Accomplished!”
The Brazil trip will be fun to explore in greater detail elsewhere, but it is impossible to describe here adequately. For now, I’ll just say that it was phenomenal — and that I returned with many gifts, including a new start to my book and a new appreciation for and commitment to my job, which provided the paycheck and medical insurance that kept my family housed and fed, and which allowed me to meaningfully serve my community and impact people’s lives. I came back ready to get to work!
And funnily enough, a week after my return, I lost that job!
It was an unexpected layoff that even now I don’t quite understand — but just the same, my time at QFA had come to an end. I took the ensuing few weeks to lick my wounds and enjoy the relief of what would have been Winter Break. Satya and I attended the beloved annual family Christmas party at our cousin’s house on the Russian River, then took a brief snow trip to Mount Shasta, before greeting the New Year. Then I wrote you this letter!
Looking ahead through this new year, my primary goal is to create greater health, balance, and presence. After such a dynamic and wayfaring 2022, I’m not planning any international travel this go-around, but hopefully I’ll enjoy some more modest domestic voyages — at least to Missouri this November for my nephew Ross’s wedding, perhaps to Seattle to see my newly retired uncle Wayne, and hopefully plenty of camping in Northern California along the way. With my clean bill of health, I have renewed hope that I’ll experience many things on my bucket list — from visiting India and returning to Africa, to publishing books and becoming a Jeopardy champion — but I also feel like the move right now is to dial back the urgency and rest my nervous system from the shock I’ve gone through in recent years. I just entered into true remission a few of months ago. And as I arise from the living nightmare of cancer, I’ve got some crust to wipe out of my eyes before expecting myself to emerge as America’s next great author. In the mean time, I also need to find work and keep the bills paid. More on that soon!
I’ll have my next follow-up CT scan to monitor my remission on May 17 (and annual scans for the next five years), which reminds me of the ongoing fundraising that lies ahead as I continue to face these major health-related costs. My old GoFundMe remains open and active, and I celebrate the recent (if more sporadic) donations that have continued to support my recovery and wellness. After five years of continued clean scans, the doctors will at last — insh’Allah! — say I’m “cured.” But I already feel like I’ve won the lottery. I have the best daughter and an amazing family. I have friends I love. I have a roof over my head, some daily bread, and a healthy body. And I wake up every morning with a chance to be of service. What more could a guy want?
There is always more to say, but for now, I just say thanks!
Yours with love,
Nils
Thanks for being you!