Below is Dan Gussin’s story of his unexpected ordeal with a rare cancer that began a year ago in September 2024. It’s sequential so the latest installment is at the bottom of the page. Dan, please know that we’re all wishing you well and praying for your well-being and for the recovery of your health as soon as possible.

From Dan Gussin of NYC, Losar 2025:

In September 2024 I was diagnosed with cancer, a large tumor in my upper left leg. Not only was this a shock, I also had a great deal of self recrimination as I had been in pain for some time but thought it stemmed from my cerebral palsy and was not serious.

Waking up the morning after my initial emergency room visit, my primary doctor set up for a CAT scan. Part of me just wanted to pull the blanket over my head and cry. As I lay there, almost automatically I started to do basic shamatha meditation on my breath. This gave me just enough mental space to start reciting manis. I honestly could not begin to focus on a practice text but this recitation of manis was able to calm my mind enough to begin taking care of some immediate phone calls that couldn’t wait.

My first call was to my supervisor at work, who needed to be aware of my situation. As I dialed, I almost burst into tears as she was the first person I told about my tumor other than my wife, who had been with me at the hospital. I was able, barely, to go back to doing manis, which helped me remain stable enough to make it through that conversation. I am very fortunate that my supervisor has been very kind and supportive from this first step, and has demonstrated genuine bodhicitta and compassion throughout my illness.

I had to get a biopsy to confirm what type of cancer I have. That week between the biopsy and the diagnosis felt like a year. I was having trouble meditating but was able to focus on doing manis until I could remind myself that there is no such thing as a bad meditation, and anything you experience is just part of the path.

Of course, when my wife and I met with the oncologist, he did not have a confirmed diagnosis as it was difficult to pin down what type of cancer I have. I wanted to scream! All that emotional stress and I was called in just to tell me to wait. Again, I went back to the simplicity and yet so profound meditation on my breath and mani recitation .

Several days later I got a confirmed diagnosis of a somewhat rare cancer. Follow-up scans showed that the tumor was wrapped around my leg bone and had blood vessels burrowing through it. Between learning of this and sharing my situation with my parents, friends and co-workers, this was a very stressful time.

Again, being able to go back to reciting manis helped keep me on an even keel. It wasn’t about the number of manis. It was the connection with compassion for myself and others that manis will create if done with the proper motivation and intent. It was about the mental space that manis allow to develop that lead to open awareness and the ability to remain more calm as the storm of thoughts threaten to rage through your mind. It is about being able to be more in touch with the people around you, who are also suffering, as they are also caught in the stormy ocean of samsara.

That is what a regular recitation of manis has done for me and so many others. I am not special in this regard, and anyone can apply this in their own life. I hope my path and my suffering can help others. I will share more of my journey soon with the sincere wish that it might help ease the suffering of sentient beings.

Blessings along the path.

Dan Gussin

Update to Dan’s story, April 2025:

After a grueling process of chemotherapy, including being admitted to the hospital and rehab for
six weeks due to a rare, negative reaction to the chemotherapy meds, I was discharged home. Because I can’t be left alone, I have been staying with my parents as my wife, Debbie, works full time.

Just this week, I had a surgical consult. As you might imagine, my  monkey mind was churning with thoughts of major surgery or even amputation as possible options. As my wife and I were in a taxi heading to the surgeon, we saw a deer along the side of the road. My mind, which had been all over the place, flashed on the deerskin Chenrezig wears and the compassion Chenrezig embodies. This gave me just enough mental space to begin reciting manis and reflecting on compassion for myself and all those suffering from cancer.

While it was a difficult day and the options discussed with my surgeon were unpleasant, being able to recite manis and rest in open awareness made this experience much more bearable. In turn,  I was able to help ease the pain my wife and parents were caught up in due to my illness.

Not only did my reciting manis help me, it also led to a ripple effect that helped ease the suffering of those around me. I hope my suffering can be of some benefit to others, and I dedicate any merit I have gained to those suffering from illness and to their caregivers.

Blessings along the path.

Dan Gussin

June 2025 – My road has become a bit more uncertain.

For the last month I have been on a hiatus from treatment as my last round of chemotherapy meds get flushed from my body. Because I have reached my lifetime limit of this medication, its now time for a change. The difficulty is, what option is the better choice for me: radiation, oral chemotherapy, more IV chemo?

I have a CAT and MRI scan tomorrow and an appointment with my oncologist on Monday. As you might imagine, this is quite stressful and an anxious time for me and those around me. Yet, in this storm of Samsara, there is a positive aspect of having cancer and its resulting suffering. It can and has acted like jet fuel for my Dharma practice. And at the core of my practice is the recitation of Manis. My cancer has been a springboard for contemplation on impermanence, emptiness, open awareness and tonglen. And the springboard for this contemplation is Shamata and Manis.

Simple and yet very profound, Manis have helped me calm my mind and not fall into the raging river of thoughts and emotions that could so easily overwhelm me. And Manis give me enough mental stability and space to engage in other Dharma practices.

Of course I have stress, fear, pain and anxiety. This is  part of life until Awakening and I can feel far from that some days. But I have also seen how I have been able to shorten my falls into this river and how these falls can be less intense than without consistent practice and Mani Recitation.

Although at times very difficult, bringing adversity onto the path can lead to a strengthening of our connection to the Dharma and ease not only our suffering but the suffering of those around us.

I am not unique or special in any way and each of us has Buddha Nature at our core and the ability to bring the adversaries we face onto the path of awakening. As Mingur Rinpoche has said, to make these adversaries our friends.

I hope that my suffering, in some small way, can benefit all sentient Beings and they they all achieve perfect, unsurpassed Enlightenment.

Blessings along the Path
Dan Gussin

Dan Gussin

September 2025

It’s been over a year now since I started on this journey with cancer. To say that it’s been stressful, with many unexpected twists and turns, would be an understatement.

One of the most profound aspects of this path is how my Buddhist practice has changed and yet remained close to my heart and an integral part of my self care and healing. And at the very heart of my engagement with the Dharma has been the simple and yet so very profound mani.

Waking up in the hospital after my very scary negative reaction to the IV chemotherapy medication, I had been stripped of all the ritual items many of us use to support our reflection and meditation on the teachings of the Buddha. No water bowls to fill, no statues to inspire me, no candles or incense. All of this was gone and while it had been almost a week before I woke up, for me, this felt so very immediate, visceral and like a punch in the gut. Not only was I in serious medical trouble, I didn’t have the physical toolkit that I had always had to bolster my daily practice during difficult times. As I stared up at the ceiling in my hospital room, my mind was in turmoil and in a very scary place.

Over the next few days, even as my family and friends showed me incredible loving kindness and compassion, I continued to feel stymied and realized that I had become too dependent on the external aspects of my practice. Without these aids, I needed to take a deep breath and reset my application of the Dharma in my life. In essence, the rubber had met the road.

Because of the physical pain and cognitive confusion I was experiencing, any kind of longer meditation was out of the question.What remained was the simplicity of the mani and its immediate, positive impact on my mental and emotional state. So, I recited a lot of mani’s and did notice improvement in maintaining a more stable and open mind.

Then my cancer threw me a curveball.

Instead of IV chemotherapy a few days a week followed by two weeks or so to recover, I have been put on a daily oral chemotherapy pill. So, since June, I have not gotten even a day’s break from the side effects of my treatment. Because I am at risk for falls and my wife works full time, I had to move in with my parents. So not only is there the day-to-day grind of side effects, I still don’t have the external tools and paraphernalia of my practice to help me get through all this.

What I do have is the internal foundation of practice and understanding of the Dharma I have built over the years. And, as always, at the very core of my practice is mani recitation and the self-compassion and  healing of Chenrezi.

I still have many moments of being uncertain and scared about what lies ahead. But I have also seen the enormous benefit that mani’s have had on my life and on the people around me. We all have Buddha Nature at our core and each of us has the potential to benefit equally from the Buddhist path.

I hope, in some small way, my suffering can help others to navigate this stormy sea of samsara.

Blessings along the Path
Dan

Dan Gussin

February 2026

“It has been a difficult time since I last wrote about my journey with cancer. And yet, from a dharma perspective, it has also been a time of greater understanding of the Buddhist teachings and how to apply them more effectively in my daily life.

Starting in June 2025, I was put on an oral chemotherapy medication for about three months. Unfortunately, I was not responding to this treatment and  the tumors in my leg and lungs grew. I was then put back on IV chemotherapy, but after two rounds of treatment, my tumors still showed some growth.

At my oncologist’s suggestion, I had a consultation with a doctor at Memorial Sloan Kettering who specializes in the type of cancer I have.  I then transferred from Northwell Health to MSK for my care. This became more complex than it should have been, and took some time to organize. While a positive step, this transfer also came with very unsettling news: “Your cancer is incurable. We can help you to live a good life but we can’t completely get rid of it. There are several options to help you live as long as possible, but it’s not something we can heal completely.”

This was the first time I had heard the word “incurable” and it hit me like a punch in the gut. And yet, while sitting in the exam room and working to process this, I was able to softly start reciting manis as my doctor laid out possible treatments moving forward. This recitation of manis gave me just enough mental and emotional space to be able to rest in open awareness. It was still very emotionally painful, but I was able to observe becoming anxious rather than completely falling into the raging river of thoughts and sensations I was feeling.

My new oncologist set up CAT and MRI scans to help me get a clear, up-to-date assessment of my status. This was done on January 29th with a follow up visit with my oncologist and a third infusion set for February 2nd. I continued to recite manis during the scans and the days before my visit with my oncologist. While these few days were anxious, the manis gave me the means to connect with meditation on impermanence, emptiness and seeing life as a dream, all of which helped keep my mind more stable in the middle of the sweeping storm of thoughts and the physical sensations that always accompany them.

Then, on the day of my appointment to assess my current status, samsara threw me another curve ball. Somehow, my previous scans done at Northwell in November had gotten lost in the system, and now my oncologist at MSK did not have anything to compare my current scans with. Based solely on the radiology report, it looks as if my tumors may have grown and there is concern that my current treatment may not be working. The problem is that different radiologists use different  landmarks in the body to assess growth, and without the actual images, a definitive assessment is not possible. My oncologist is working to find the lost scans and wants to regroup and discuss further treatment options next week. She is also setting up a referral to the MSK pain management team to help with my increasing leg pain.

Engaging in open awareness combined with meditation on emptiness and impermanence have helped with the pain but it is still becoming a quality of life issue, and I might need a different pain medication. On top of that, my actual infusion was delayed by over 2 hours, so I got home very late. Because of the uncertainty of the situation, we all decided to go through with my scheduled infusion, as I’ve been tolerating them well and they might be having some positive effect. Again the recitation of manis acted as a connection to the dharma foundation I had built over the years, and made all this less stressful.

Sitting in the office, looking at the scans of my body being destroyed from the inside, I felt the knife edge of panic as another option looks like it’s being taken away. The counterpoint to this was having my oncologist discuss regrouping and resetting and having several different options moving forward that gave me hope.

The very confusing part about this is the other part of myself that was able to rest in open awareness and recite manis during this helpless panicked feeling. It’s like cognitive dissonance at a very deep level and a glimpse of my essential Buddha Nature. And then there is impermanence. In some ways the ground is shifting under my feet so fast I can barely keep up, but isn’t that the very nature of the teaching itself?

The waters of the ocean of samsara are so very rough right now, and sometimes the emotional and physical pain borders on the unthinkable. Two nurses took my vitals and they looked good both times; so it does seem as if the dharma kicked in on a strictly physical level. Admittedly, there is a medication component to this, but I do think the dharma was a large part of it. And at the very core of my dharma practice is the simple yet so profound mani recitation.

I am so very scared and yet at the core of this fear is a profound calm and understanding that I am okay. The problem is, my monkey mind is jumping back and forth between the two, and it’s exhausting. But again, this is a normal part of the path. I’m angry at Northwell, Epic and maybe MSK for not having all my scans, but at the same time I’m aware these are flawed samsaric beings caught in a large and complex system not of their making.

I am also having difficulty forgiving myself for assuming my initial pain was not serious but just an injury, and waiting until my tumor was quite large before seeing my doctor at the very start of this journey. I am working on self-compassion. Sometimes I feel very trapped; at other times my mind feels at ease and I even find humor and joy and feel very close to my Buddha Nature. I sometimes fall into the raging river of my mind head first, but I have proof positive that the Dharma works. And if I were not sick, I wouldn’t need the hospital and medicine of the Buddhist path. So again, this seems like a normal part of the path because of where I am now.

As you can see, I have a lot going on in my head and body right now. I am both okay with not being okay, and just not okay, depending on what time of day you ask. And yet I feel safe and curious about what will happen next. It’s all part of turning confusion into clarity and working with my karma as best I can, and allowing things to unfold naturally without judgment or the storylines of past and future.  The pain, fear, and anger I feel can be very seductive and all too easy to get caught in, and I don’t want to become that. So I am staying very close to my dharma practice. Manis have served as a core component for my practice and have helped me maintain a stability of mind I would not have had otherwise.

One of the most important aspects of the mani recitation and this stability of mind is that they allow me to engage in bodhichitta. It can become all too easy to become very self centered in the midst of intense suffering and uncertainty.  But I have seen how the ripple effect of my practice has had a healing effect on my wife, parents, and friends. Not only have manis helped me, they have helped others around me to find some peace of mind and healing as they accompany me during this difficult journey we are on together.

All of this is a work in progress for me and filled with pain and setbacks. But, as I have said before, my cancer has also acted like jet fuel for my connection to the dharma and a time of growth and exploration of my mind.

I hope that, in some small way, my path can help ease the suffering of others and show how Buddhadharma is always available to help navigate the ocean of samsara and make progress toward transforming the afflictive emotions we all face. Tai Situ Rinpoche has said even a one percent improvement in this life is very beneficial. I find this very inspiring as I continue along the bodhisattva path.

All the best and blessings along the path,

Dan

Invitation from the PTC mani coordinator: If anyone else would like to share a story or comments about what motivates you to recite manis and how you feel it benefits you and others, please email us at manicoordinator@gmail.com. Here’s an archive of previously shared stories.