I think, in a way, I've returned to who I used to be as a global correspondent whose life was devoted to really making a difference, illuminating what's happening in the world, always drawn toward the suffering of peoples and cultures and exposing exploitation and injustice; but now I'm the same person in a much, much softer iteration.

I was charging forward too hard, into too many war zones, working too long, drinking too heavily, pushing forward, pushing forward. And who knows, had this not happened, maybe I would have been one of the casualties as a journalist covering the war. Who knows, maybe I would have been captured and tortured somewhere along the line, because I always pushed things to the limit.

I feel vulnerable to the astonishing beauty of being alive and to Mother Nature.

I feel vulnerable every day to the grace of God as expressed in every living thing. I feel vulnerable to the astonishing beauty of being alive and to Mother Nature. I feel positive when I feel vulnerable, because it's another reminder that it's not all about me and about my ego. And I actually think it's courageous to be vulnerable, and it's not something to be avoided.

How can I look at it and say, there it is - it's real. This is what is happening. It might even be a catalyst for more personal growth for me. It might be a blessing in disguise. It might not be. What's my best course of action? How can I be skillful?

I feel vulnerable every day to the grace of God as expressed in every living thing.

I don't think I can put my finger exactly on when remission occurred, because from that moment on, I left Western medicine and never looked back. I practiced every day for ten to twelve hours a day - spiritual studies, meditation, pranayama, yoga postures, Ayurvedic studies, deep, deep, powerful cleansings and fasting.