Month: April 2026

Checking-In via Mindful Moments

After writing the last two weeks about things that I am not doing—such as attributing what I perceived as my own shortcomings to cancer treatment side effects or pushing myself into experiences/responsibilities that end up causing distress—I wanted to write about what I am doing.

Lately, I’ve been breaking meditation sessions into shorter, more frequent mindful chunks. Instead of a prolonged sit, I stop what I’m doing and sink into where I am, as a sort of check-in for a few minutes.

This works best for where I am now, with some anxieties about the future rising and others ebbing. There has been a lot of change. It feels like the swirling tides of the Bay of Fundy, putting me in a state where the best work I can do is to remain at an even keel while moods lift and fall all around me.

Tides rise and fall, try to bob with them.
(Photo by Stephen Walker on Unsplash)

This is how it goes: when I notice the mental waters rushing in, I pause and look around. Am I safe? Yes. Am I healthy? Yes, or if I’m fighting an illness, I check to see if I have what I need on hand. Have I been fed and watered? Yes. Is there unrest in my body? Perhaps, and I locate a point if one exists, then slowly release that tension if possible. Do I have everything I need to do my work or complete an errand? Do I know what I’m doing next? Perhaps I should jot some notes? All of this gentle questioning gives me an opportunity to settle and refocus on what is going on right now.

I stretch, as this helps me expand my chest, take a deep breath and feel what it’s like to take up space. Many of us spend our days hunched over our work, contracting inward. That’s tough on our bodies and tough on our minds. I find it really helps to reverse that body posture, which reminds us to open up and reset our perspective.

Finally, I take a moment for stillness, feeling into my entire body at once. Noticing how everything is interconnected and how I blend into my environment. Then recognizing how the ground is solid beneath my feet and how smooth everything feels: flowing time, movements of my body, thoughts in my mind.

This check-in allows me to manage upsetting thoughts and bring my attention back to where I am. Because it’s short, I can intersperse these little sessions into my day, so I’m never too far from one. If you’re feeling too restless to sit for a longer meditation, try this out and see whether it suits you.

Doing Things “For My Own Good”? Maybe Not.

(Title image: Photo by fotografu on Unsplash)

I know this sounds like one of those satirical “de-motivational” messages, but hear me out. I have done a lot of activities at which I was the ‘worst’ in the room. I was convinced that it was “for my own good” and would “build character”. Isn’t that what we’re always told? What doesn’t kill us makes us stronger? We will rise to the challenge?

I went through Yoga Teacher Training as the oldest student, the least flexible one, the only cancer survivor, the only one also working a job while taking care of a family. Ten years ago I had better balance and greater flexibility, but at the time that I took the training, my abilities lagged behind those of the other students.

Yes, I finished the certification. Yes, it was an “accomplishment”. No, it didn’t feel great by the end. My confidence took a beating. I did the same with a specialty yoga certification, one that was very important to me. I was one of the most inexperienced teachers when I did those classes. I paid a lot of money. I put in many hours of effort. Everything took longer because I was always pushing my boundaries. And it sucked.

Sometimes, I’m barely holding on. And that sucks.
(Photo by simon on Unsplash)

I have a history of doing things like this (college calculus, I’m looking at you). You know what? It sucked. Yes, I got the experience. But it still sucked. Hey, I survived cancer, my absolute number one biggest health nightmare. I’m still alive and being on the other side of the illness is such a relief. But it still sucks.

I realize that the way I’m supposed to be describing these experiences is that I’ve done difficult things that I’ve struggled through. Sometimes I succeeded, other times I flailed and failed, but I got through it all and came out “victorious”, however, you chose to define it. And I was strong enough to not let it bother me.

However, that would be a lie. It did bother me.

There were times that I dragged myself back to my room at the end of the day, hating what I was doing. Yes, “victorious”, I guess. I would have thought that victory would feel more uplifting. Eventually, however, I realized that it was time to listen to what my insides had been screaming at me all along.

It’s okay to give yourself a break once in a while. Not everything has to be like pulling teeth or doing the old “grin and bear it” to get through it. There will be things that you will have no choice about (anyone who’s gone through chemo knows that), but it’s okay to yell “uncle” when you know the fit is just not right.

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So, I get that perhaps the bigger struggle is to get people to not give up. For the vast majority, it’s too easy not to challenge yourself. That’s an entirely different issue that also needs addressing. But for those of us that have been trying to hammer a square peg into a round hole because we were raised to not back down from challenges, sometimes you need to take a breath and give it a rest.

Time to Stop Complaining?

(Title image: Photo by 光术 山影 on Unsplash)

Nine years after my initial breast cancer diagnosis, I was still finding things to complain about. Yes, it’s 100% true that cancer treatments (surgery, chemo, radiation, endocrine therapy, etc.) are kind of like taking a 2-by-4 between the eyes. You do your best to keep yourself afloat but, with the exception of the effectiveness of the treatments on the tumor cells, you could argue that they are a net negative for the rest of your body.

Once treatments are done, side effects can linger. Some of them may linger for quite a long time, years even. And that’s where I got caught up in all of this.

The problem is that along with cancer treatment, other things are happening in parallel. Because I was pre-/peri-menopausal at the time of diagnosis, the onset of chemotherapy also resulted in a hard stop to my menstruation. This brought with it effects, although luckily mild, that aligned with a menopausal transition.

But there was more. At one point I was so panicked about memory issues that my oncologist decided to do a brain MRI, which found nothing (well, it found my brain…but no brain tumor. I’ll take it). But this was also during a particularly anxiety-driven point in my life, and that’s something that can also affect memory and basic mental functioning.

Imagine taking one of these planks to your face; that’s my impression of cancer treatment.
(Photo by Patrick Robert Doyle on Unsplash)

And so it went, on and on. I saw a cardiologist because I was experiencing heartbeat irregularities—probably anxiety-related also—but even after a stint wearing a Holter monitor (which reminded me of my chemo port, ugh), nothing serious was identified. In fact, the cardiologist remarked that I had a very strong heart. Not what I had feared, but good news.

I was frustrated with the effects of endocrine therapy on muscle wasting, something that I perceived as a huge loss, but when I finished up physical therapy for my shoulder a month ago, the therapists pointed out my strength and flexibility.

I was focused on how much I had lost, somehow ignoring the fact that I just turned 60. I was comparing myself to my abilities in my 40s, which—no big surprise—isn’t reasonable.

It really hit me when I attended an online event with other cancer patients and survivors. I wasn’t experiencing the level of impairment that others described.

This made me think hard about how I perceived myself. I finished my main treatments over eight years ago. That’s a long time, so why was I attributing anything that went “wrong” to cancer? I was doing very well. Still exercising. Still working my job. Still trying new things. Still not feeling my age.

I have nothing to complain about and a lot to be grateful for. The fact is, I left my post-cancer struggles behind some time ago. The “side effects” I thought I was still experiencing are miniscule compared what others, particularly those my age, are dealing with.

So I’m going to do my best to shut up about them.