Customer Reviews

Grace and Grit: Spirituality and Healing in the Life and Death of Treya Killam Wilber

5 star:		(43)
4 star:		(5)
3 star:		(4)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(2)

 

 

I'll admit it. I've written a lot of five star reviews. I tend to comment when I have praise to offer. This book just took me to a whole new level of appreciation for a writer. It's like the difference between, "Yes, I think you are a lovely person" and "There isn't one thing about you which I don't find absolutely loveable."

I urge you to buy this book, and expand your own vision of what is possible: in a loving relationship, as one approaches the end of this physical existence, and within the human heart and soul.

This book woke me up. It reminded me about Love. (Saying that, the words seem so inadequate) The truth is, I can't come close to conveying the Love which comes through in this book. Its personal love directed toward a wife, a husband, a family. It's universal Love which calls to you to find your way home. It beckons "Promise you will find me again."

I just finished reading the last chapter, and I cried and cried. I remembered what it was like when my mom died. Dannion Brinkley said that when someone dies, the doors to Heaven open up, and energy flows in both directions. I'll second that. My mothers death was one of the most sacred experiences of my life.

Reading this, I also remembered Love. A friend of mine used to tease his wife. She would say "Honey, do you love me?" And he would respond, "Only when I stop and think about it." Love is like that isn't it? If we don't stop and become present to Love, then Love isn't present in our awareness, and that which isn't present in our awareness isn't real to us in the present moment. At best, it is a myth about a "Once upon a time/somewhere someday" experience.

This book, and especially the last chapter increased my awareness of Love so dramatically, I felt like I just woke up. And then it repeated the experience. I just kept waking up to more and more love. I am overflowing with humble gratitude for the gift that reading this book is to me.

Thank you Ken. Thank you Treya. Thanks for reminding me of what I live for.

I have a request of you the reader. If you do nothing else, go to a bookstore and read the last chapter. I promise that if you are anything like me, it will flat out blow you away. Your reading that chapter will further the conversation of freedom. It will further the conversation of Love as a present moment reality. And it will further the conversation of death being beautiful in its own way, at its own time.

You will not regret the time invested. I promise.

--Frank Boyd

An extraordinary story which makes such a welcome and necessary change from the superficial and happy-clappy stories about illness that all have such happy endings. This has a sad, powerful, truthful, enlightening ending. Treya dies, just like nearly all cancer patients and yet her dying IS meaningful, but not in the New Age way of "its all just your karma, or a life lesson you have brought upon yourself" - puke!

The philosophy is outstanding. Highly intelligent and compassionate. No-one I have ever read about worked at hard as getting her spirit well (in case that might cure her cancer) as Treya and yet she dies. A definitive repost indeed to all the Caroline Myss and Louise Hay's of the world. I have grown deeply angry with the "you can heal your life/ you create your own reality" approaches as I struggle with (I hope) grace and grit through my own, possibly terminal, illness. This book is a rare shining example of truth - bright, brilliant, loving truth - in amongst the heap of self-righteous publications out there.

Read it to be moved. To be enlightened. To grow in wisdom and courage.

"Because I can no longer ignore death, I pay more attention to life," Treya Wilber observes in the face of cancer (p. 407). Shambhala recently published the Second Edition of this book, twelve years after the death of Ken Wilber's wife. Heart wrenching and profound, this book lives up to its title by taking its reader through all the grace and grit of his wife's five year struggle with cancer. "Grace and grit" summarizes Treya's entire life, Wilber writes. "Being and doing. Equanimity and passion. Surrender and will. Total acceptance and fierce determination. Those two sides of her soul, the two sides she wrestled with all her life, the two sides that she had finally brought together into one harmonious whole" (pp. 390-91). Derived in part directly from Treya's journals, Wilber's book is as much about Treya's "nightmarish tour through medical hell" (p. 23), as it is about the couple's ability to "stay open to life and grow in compassion" (p. 341) through "profound inner change" (p. 164).

"GRACE AND GRIT is her story; and our story," Wilber writes (p. x). It is a real love story that unfolds against a Buddhist backdrop that tells us: "Life is a bubble, a dream, a reflection, a mirage" (p. 363). At age 36, Treya met the man of her dreams, in 1983. They married four months later. Ten days after the wedding, Treya discovered she had breast cancer, and then underwent surgery and radiation. Eight months later, she suffered a recurrence, followed by more surgery and eight months of soul-poisoning chemotherapy (p. 279) and baldness. Eight months later, Treya was diagnosed with diabetes, followed by years of recurrent tumors throughout her lungs and brain (pp. 240; 268).

Her cancer teaches Treya many things, including real suffering: "There is suffering in this world, no way around that one" (p. 280). However, through tonglen meditation, Treya finds compassion for it (p. 315). She learns "to be human. To be truly human. That is most important" (p. 170). Treya learns to "live in the present, not in the future, giving her allegiance to what is, not what might be" (p. 312). She discovers "passionate equanimity--to be fully passionate about all aspects of life, about one's relationship with spirit, to care to the depths of one's being but with no trace of clinging or holding" (pp. 335-6).

Of the five Wilber books I've read, this one comes closest to a memoir, offering its reader a revealing look at Ken Wilber, the man and "support person." "I'm a ... " he says (p. 361), as he silently performs his "daily chores" for Treya, including cleaning, laundry, cooking, dishes, groceries, and vegetable juicing (pp. 336, 362). He writes, "learning to make friends with cancer; learning to make friends with the possibility of an early and perhaps painful death, has taught me a great deal about making friends with myself, as I am, and a great deal about making friends with life, as it is" (p. 356). He also learns to "practice the wound of love:" "Real love hurts; real love makes you totally vulnerable and open; real love will take you far beyond yourself; and therefore real love will devastate you. I kept thinking, if love does not shatter you, you do not know love" (p. 396).

"Treya's story is everyperson's story," Wilber writes in his Introduction to the the Second Edition of his book. As such, it has much to offer any reader interested in personal growth, spirituality, relationships, illness, or caretaking, and it deserves a large audience. It also offers an easy introduction to Ken Wilber's vision. This is both a five-star book, and a five-pointed cosmic star book, "luminous and radiant."

G. Merritt

This book is a "supermarket" on love story, comedy,
psychology, spirituality, growth, enlightenment, alternative
medicines, life, death and healing. A real page turner that allows
you waste no time to finish it straight away. I read it during my
vacation two weeks ago. I took it with me during bath and each trip to
the loo. Every person, especially women,with or without cancer must
read this book. This is also a perfect gift for those with cancer
(the only downfall is of course the sensitive death issue so openly
talked about in this book the reality of which so many people in such
a predicament, both the patients and support people, find it difficult
to face and prepare for. This is most unfortunate since this could
perhaps be the only truly significant help and hope for both patients
and support people to make the remaining time left, say if miracle
doesn't come, worth living.)

It is a course on living (also death)
and how to be human and to accept all the human conditions that go
with it, written by both Ken and Treya Wilber. Ken Wilber has
skillfully increased my admiration and faith in the practicality and
superiority, both spiritual and intellectual, of (eastern)mysticism,
especially Buddhism, over mythical religions such as mainstream
Christianity and Islam (since there are also mystic branches in both
religions), although he wouldn't call himself a Buddhist for his deep
affinity for Christian mysticism and Vedanta Hinduism (despite his
rigorous Buddhist practice).As he noted in the book jocularly:
"All religions are the same, especially Buddhism".

His
love and dedication for Treya was so deeply touching. Treya's
remarkable endurance and psychological/spiritual health despite
extreme agony, pain and suffering she went through was unequaled. Her
enormous love of life and calm acceptance of her imminent death was a
true epitome of the "passionate equanimity" she coined (she
still read her favorite phrases from her favorite spiritual books Ken
wrote on cards in bold after she was almost totally blind due to her
malignant brain tumor). The title of this book was taken from the
last entry she put on her journal two days before she died that also
signified this harmonious paradox and her victory of her lifetime
balance seeking between doing and being.

A both are
"gifted" with advanced intelligence (Ken Wilber is a
intellectual, material and spiritual. They were lucky to have each
other because they beautified each other in every way, though under
extreme duress the strength of their love and commitment to each other
wasn't without challenge which once almost tore them apart.

This
book has "quietly" changed me (perhaps also my life, I can't
tell yet). I didn't feel it straight away but later I realised how
this book and Treya's incessant and "joyful" (she was a joy,
in spite of everything)struggle has always been on the back of my mind
ever since. In so many ways I can see my reflection in Treya. She
was single for a long time before she met Ken in her 36 years of age
(and sentenced with breast cancer 10 days after their wedding). She
was attractive and highly intelligent. I am in my early thirties and
unmarried and many think I am attractive and highly intelligent. She
was a writer, so am I. She had a deep interest in meditation,
spirituality, philosophy and mysticism, so do I. She had been
struggling all along searching for her daemon (one's inner deity or
guiding spirit, vocation, "life's work"), so have I. Her life
was a balancing act between yin and yang, the feminine and masculine
aspects of herself, between the intellectual and artistic sides of her
psyche, between taking control and assuming responsibility on one side
(masculine, yang, doing) and letting go, surrender and going with the
flow on the other (feminine, yin,being/accepting). Doing is
"obsessed" with producing something, making something, achieving
something; it is aggressive, competitive, oriented toward the future
and depended on rules and judgement. Being, otoh, is embracing the
present, accepting a person for what he is, not for he can do; it
values relationship, inclusion, acceptance, compassion and care. I am
struggling in that area too. Treya felt she had too much yang, had
always valued doing over being; the reason why she changed her name
from Terry, which she thought to be a man's name, to a more feminine
Treya (from estrella, Spanish word for "star"). I feel myself
too much prone to my masculine side too. She was the oldest in her
family, so am I, hence this relentless sense of responsibility of
being "the oldest son" in both of us.

Now, I can be more
accepting things as they really are. I'm still uptight, passionate
and obsessed about doing, producing, achieving and perfection, but
more relaxed and calm (passionate equanimity) and more fair and
generous to myself. My mind is more controlled and tamed, also due to
Zen meditation I'm beginning to take. I'm slowly deserting the
obsession for meaning (the meaning of life is there is no meaning in
life, life just is). Less ruminating on a perceived bargaining on
that.

The part when she was dying was the most beautiful. It was a
lucid death, commonly practiced by the Tibetans. She was in complete
control (she more or less decided the timing of her own death), very
ecstatic about "going" and completely conscious (she refused
pain killer because she wanted to remain alert) until the very end,
maintaining a meditative posture prescribed by Tibetan Buddhism,
guided by her ever present beloved and loving husband who kept reading
her the instruction even after her clinical death (the accompanying
"Tibetan Book of the Dead", translated by Robert Thurman, the
most profound, sophisticated and complete account on the science of
death and the art of dying, is also recommended). By the time she
opened her eyes for the last time and gazed to everyone present in the
room and exhaled her last breath at the age of 41, much tear has been
profusely shed from my eyes. What even more remarkable was the fact
that she closed her gaping mouth, due to rigor mortis, by HERSELF 1
hour 45 minutes after her death and, then, smiled! (A sign of
advanced level of enlightenment in Tibetan Buddhism)! If death could
be that beautiful, I'm looking forward to my own death.

Here is a different side of Ken Wilber. More personal, more vulnerable, more approachable by more people. It's easiest to imagine Ken Wilber as a scholar/monk, locked in his study grinding out title after title. (See _Sex, Ecology, Spirituality: the Spirit of Evolution_ for a recent imposing example). In _Grace and Grit_ we come as well to know an all-too-human Wilber, a tragic lover with a heart stung by nettles of distraction and despair. Putting his writing aside for a period of years, Ken became a full-time support person for his wife Treya during her protracted struggle with cancer. Until the very end, the Wilbers hoped and labored for a cure. In the end, they chose to make Treya's death a lesson in living for all of us. This is a sad and joyous book. Saddest of all: what might Treya Killam Wilber have shared with us had she lived longer? (Longer, not fuller. Her life was full - there can be no doubt.) Most joyous: in this work the Wilbers have shared both a vision and practice of hope beyond the boundaries of biological existence. Recommended reading for all who wonder how life can end, when love cannot.

Although I am a voracious reader, usually at least one book a day, I was so overwhelmed by this book that I did not read another for over two months. It works on every level, as a love story, as a tutorial in philosophy and religion, as a guide through the maze of spiritual offerings in today's world and as a primer for how to be helpful to people with terminal illnesses. It is a great introduction to Ken Wilber's works, and gives the reader a look at his heart as well as his mind. Treya's life and death are my inspiration for the way I want to live, and when the time comes, the way I want to die. Reading this book was the turning point of my life, and I am grateful to Ken Wilber for having the courage to bear his and Treya's souls for his readers' benefit

A friend gave this book me to read, after my former wife passed away due to metastatic breast cancer (I wished I read it years ago). When I found a strength to read it, I was touched how similar experiences Ken and I had. Hopelessness. The toughest one. His openess about dropping meditation, having few beers for lunch, booze for breakfast, contemplating shotgun purchase, hitting Treya during an argument...all by a (perhaps) most important philosopher/psychologist of our era. That takes courage, to write about it. Equanimity, a simple word with so much challenge built-in. I supported then_my_wife with her choices of not going for chemo, radiation and sticking to Gerson diet, yoga, meditation, and enzymes, mega vitamins etc (treatments Treya did at the end of her life). She lived great 6 years (without pouring poisons into her body). The book is intertwined with diary style, philosophy, letters, dreams, narration of their lifes. I wish he had included his coping mechanism, after Treya's death, for its very difficult to find the balance after "the pull" of events ends . Also, there is no word about how they managed financially. Living is expensive, but so is dying. Then, in my opinion, the story would be complete. Regardless, I highly recommend this book.

'Grace and Grit' is the single most moving book I've ever read. If you read through all the other comments, they cover exactly what I felt, but I still had to add my own opinion. This is my first journey into the transpersonal philosophy of Ken Wilber, and I found the spirituality and philosophical aspects of the book not just fascinating, but necessary. The whole work, from Treya's letters, to her journal, to Wilber's additions, fit into one seamless whole that packed a hell of a punch.

It was not just the poignant love story, but the amazing way that Treya lived through that part of her life, and the honest way the Wilber approached it in the book.

It is a work that I will always carry with me, its message too important to ignore. And I will urge every single person I know to read it, if just to be exposed to the impact of it all.

Quite simply, _Grace and Grit_ gives us real people behind Wilber's usual academic prose. And it's fresh air compared to his other works. This along with _Marriage of Sense and Soul_ are the best Wilber books to begin with.

Best of all we are introduced to Treya--the truest inspiration I have ever read.

Yikes, Wilber feels so strongly about what he writes about! Can anyone, even those that disagree with his ideas, argue with that? The passion and strength behind his ideas and style are inspiring to some, off-putting to others, and typical male-testosterone-patriarchy to the rest.

But look here. Here is his account that perhaps explains his neverending zeal--that which he experienced himself, the love and death of his soulmate. There is no one who writes like him, infusing philosophy with accounts of chemo, meditation with medication, deities with diaries. This guy is a warrior and an scholar. That much we knew. Know, we know him as a lover, too.

Love the story about his satori in a German pub in the middle of the country side with several Grolsch's in him, dancing stupidly with other Germans around a circle and it just all made sense then.

What is most remarkable is not the sometimes excessive narcisism. (What he himself has later to refered to as boomeritis--a word aimed at society and even himself, here especially.) And it's not even the utterly devastating ending (truly unique in all of western literature, methinks--the first account of actual enlightenment, play by play?)

No, the most remarkable thing is that amidst what was undoubtedly a heartwrenching ordeal to write and recreate, he has either a) the utter gall, b) culteral foresight, c) condescending naivete, or d) typical moxie, to include several whole chapters (!) of his academic theorizing, about the "Great Chain of Being", or "Great Holarchy of Being", or the "successive stages and waves of personal growth"--for god's sake, who is this guy Wilber and where did he come from? His wife just died!

Dig the meditation, sister. Dig the deity descriptions. Dig the equimanity in the face of killer chemo. Dig the alternative/white man's medical drama. Dig Treya's journals. Did you have to include the parts about how great you are? Maybe you did. Keep telling us about buddhism and mystical christianity. Keep putting in all in a modern light, bro. You've started th ball rolling on transpersonal psychology. Let the grad students do the rest.

After reading Grace and Grit, Wilber's got in me a reader for life. And with this book (and those since it), now we know that he seems to be getting ready to write novels. Lord help us.

The previous reviewer's charge of arrogance was a surprise to this reader. The power of Wilber's analytical thinking could overpower this book, were it not for two of the book's strengths: one, the extent to which his deceased wife is allowed to speak for herself, through her poetry, art, and journal excerpts (all of which she authorized for publication); and two, the author's palpable admiration of and humility before the memory of his wife: a woman who provided inspiration and guidance to many people through her research, advocacy, and sincere spiritual practice.

Ken Wilber, already noted for his early works on transpersonal psychology and contemporary philosophy, and Terry Killam fell deeply in love upon their first meeting and were quickly engaged. Right away, she was diagnosed with cancer which proved to be persistent and aggressive. The book which emerges is amazing: a tribute to a person who, in the words of one friend, taught people how to live and how to die, by strong example; it is also a cogent examination of different approaches to illness, with a refreshingly open perspective to orthodox and New Age paths alike; a book about dying, and about being a caretaker; a bare-bones, courageous examination of maintaining a strong marriage in the face of something unthinkable; a book about illness, dying, and practicing the dharma not only for one's own healing, but for the benefit of all beings.

The book itself is pretty clearly the product of a healing process, and it has so many gifts to offer. Highly recommended.