franticshanti

It’s 2026 and We’re Safe

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Not going to lie, the world may seem like an unstable place. While I am happy to say that I remain cancer-free, I am facing some unexpected threats that could drastically shift my everyday life. And I know that there are readers out there with similar experiences.

Therefore, this is a great time to remind ourselves of one calming truth: at this very moment, as you are reading this post, you are safe.

You might not feel safe. There may be news you’ve received that threatens your safety. There might be thoughts in your head that make you feel unsafe. But the reality is that you are safe…right now. And…right now.

At these finite points in time, as we notice them.

Here, where you are in this moment, is safe…even when your brain says otherwise.
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What do I mean by safe? For me personally, “I am safe” has to do with the calm reality of the present moment as contrasted with past traumas and future fears. Where you are right now, even if you don’t “feel” safe, is physically safe.

Obviously, your mileage may vary, and if you’re currently falling off a cliff then you can claim that you are not safe. But 99.999999999% of us will not be reading a blog in mid-air.

Feel into where you are in space. Notice the weight of your body and how it makes contact with the surface on which you’re resting. Objectively, where are you? Can you hear the buzzing of kitchen appliances, the chirping of birds, the people speaking outside? Reaching outward with your senses, leave the brain noise behind.

“I am safe” works as a soothing affirmation. Pair it with diaphagmatic breaths, nice deep ones into the belly (“belly breathing”) to reinforce the action of the vagus nerve in activating the parasympathetic (“rest and digest”) nervous system.

As you do this, slow everything down. I often employ the imagery of forming a “pearl” around myself and establishing a safe zone inside. Imagine that you’re blowing a bubble that surrounds you, with a slightly frosted appearance. As it forms, you can still see what taking is place outside it, but there is space between you and the rest of the world. Gone is the “in your face” feeling of rawness.

Feeling into your body is a quick way to ground yourself in what’s happening now.
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Rub your hands together and notice the sensations in your palms. Scrunch your toes and then stretch them out.

In or out, you decide. You have the option of reaching outward with your senses, or if you prefer, bringing your attention inward into your body. Or alternate between the two. Always noticing what is happening now.

The important thing here is that I’m not suggesting that nothing bad will ever happen or that what took place in the past doesn’t matter and can’t hold sway over you. Those are rose-colored views that are unrealistic and dismissive. What I *am* saying, and again, this is how I interpret this concept, is that you can check in at any given moment and notice that you are currently not in the maws of death, even if your brain is trying to convince you that you are.

Here. Grounded in this seat. You are safe.

Happy 2026!

What Do I Want, Really?

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A few days before Christmas I was listening to a radio interview with a therapist who was discussing the conflicted feelings that many people might have around the end-of-year holidays.

According to social media and advertisements and whatnot, we’re supposed to feel jolly and festive and full of holiday spirit. But that’s not necessarily the case. Not only can this time of the year feel oppressive with numerous responsibilities (gift buying, preparing elaborate meals, dealing with visitors), the expectations for what this season should look like don’t often match the reality of our actual experiences.

The ho-ho-holidays are not always as jolly as we expect them to be.
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So the therapist was saying that he has is clients ask themselves a couple of questions. The first question is something along the lines of “what kind of a holiday do I want to have?” This is often the holiday that we feel we should be having, the commercialized holiday where every decoration shines brightly, every meal is delicious and every gift is exactly what the recipient truly wanted.

But the second question is “what kind of a holiday do I want to have, really?” This query cuts to the quick—what matters the most to me?

The two questions may have very different answers.

I believe that these are excellent questions to ask. They allow us to step back and truly consider what this time of the year means to us once we remove the bright lights and flashy wrapping paper.

How does the future look?
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We can apply that same perspective to our expectations as we head into the New Year. Perhaps it’s time to forgo the usual canned list of resolutions, shake off the voices in our heads and ask the “really?” question.

This is the question that releases the perfectionist pressures that we’ve been carrying with us and instead encourages introspection. It allows us to be honest with ourselves. Sometimes what we really want is not the new car or the promotion; sometimes it’s a sense of peace or stability.

If this seems too vague, then try imagining that it’s now December of 2026 and you’re looking back on the year. How would you like to be able to describe the twelve months you experienced? How do you want to feel? And consider what needs to happen in order for you to feel that way? Are there changes you need to make?

The more clearly you can envision this, the easier it can be to create a path to head there. Take time to feel into this. Write it down and then refer to your notes on a weekly basis.

The year 2026 is just around the corner. What do you want it to be like…really?

Advent 2025: So What Did We Learn?

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Yesterday was officially the last Sunday of Advent 2025. Today brings me closer to the end of a difficult year. Ehhh, maybe the end of a difficult eighteen months, given that my dad passed away in July of 2024 and I’ve been dodging tough stuff since then. Change is hard and there was a lot of it.

But after all that, here we are. This reminds me of those “things will turn out okay” adages. Sure, in retrospect you can look back at the maze that you picked your way through and see the clear path. But that’s not what it looks like at the start. It’s a series of twisting turns with no guarantees that you’ll get to where you hope to be by the end, and that you won’t suffer in the process.

Ahhhh, the view from the end comes with a satisfying release of stress.
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No doubt, it’s much nicer being at the end point and having the luxury of saying, “yep, I survived that.” Reminds me of my last chemo infusion or radiation treatment. The hard stuff is over and now we coast to the finish line.

With the last Sunday of Advent, I finally exhale. My thrice-hourly bells (from the Plum Village app) not only remind me to take a deep breath, they make clear that in between those breaths my breathing has been shallow. The realization that I put an imaginary checkmark beside my deep breath (like, “ok, I did my duty”) but then often return to being a spaced-out mess…hmmm, that’s quite humbling.

In the context of mindfulness, we speak of “remembering” and “being awake” to this life. I spend so much time skittering around like a caffeinated squirrel on an ice rink that it seems I need to be taken by the hand and brought back to my senses. The good news is, the present is a very calming place to be because it’s uncomplicated. You only need to deal with that singular point in time that is “right now”.

So this past Advent was a reminder to myself not to get caught up in what’s coming up, not to wallow in what I should have done differently in the past but to pay attention to where I am.

Ok, What Now?

In the interest of riding the groundswell that I’ve established, I’m going to jump on a free course from Deer Park Monastery’s website called Essential Practices of Mindful Living (https://courses.deerparkmonastery.org/c/essential-practices-of-mindful-living). After pressuring myself with time-intensive certifications over the past years, this is a pleasant change. The online course is self-paced (i.e., no rush, no stress) and teaches topics with which I’m already familiar…but I’m a believer in repetition. Practice, practice, practice

So why am I talking about it now and not on New Year’s Day, as is customary? Because I’ve learned that the best time to start strengthening a habit is now. Not at some arbitrary point in the future (like a certain holiday), but right now.

Onward!

Advent 2025: Refusing Good Cheer

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If you’re following my Advent experience, you’ll know that I had a teensy bit of trouble getting into the swing of things as far as reenergizing my mindfulness practice was concerned. But as I mentioned in my last post, the trick was regular and frequent (3x an hour) reminders to stop, take a breath and return to the present.

This strategy worked so well that these thrice-hourly breaks opened the door for gratitude to seep in. The extra-deep breath slowed everything down and made it easier to notice how “okay” things were around me.

That’s a reminder that I think we all need. So innocently, in casual conversations, I mentioned to friends how I found this Advent practice to be particularly uplifting because it allowed me some time and space, even if only a sliver, to realize there was so much good stuff going on.

And, ok, since I had such a positive experience with my deep breath and gratitude, I (gently) encouraged others to try it.

Psst! It’s that gratitude thing again.
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Well, just like unsolicited advice is wont to do, I didn’t get the greatest reaction to what I felt was simply finding light when things feel dark. Many people that I know have worries and hardships and things-to-be-angry-about, and sometimes, when difficulties abound…let’s just say that there’s not a lot of enthusiasm for making yourself feel better.

[Note: I am not suggesting “everything is 100% awesome” toxic positivity! This is about finding little things to appreciate.]

I think it’s very human to resist gratitude at times, especially when you feel you’ve been wronged and might believe that letting go of hurt and anger is like “letting the other side win”, so to speak.

But it is interesting to ponder how we can stubbornly cling to feelings of hurt and agitation if we convince ourselves that making ourselves miserable is how we further our cause. As if nurturing your discontent makes you more focused in fighting for your way. But I’m not convinced that this is beneficial; all it does is increase your stress levels, which introduces physical and emotional repercussions.

Instead, in allowing ourselves to soften and appreciate the good around us, we can lift our spirits. By calming ourselves and creating space, we think more clearly, respond more appropriately and ultimately are more productive.

There’s a lot think about this week—I am amazed at the difference that one little breath timer has made, and I’m so grateful for it.

Advent 2025: Expectation vs. Reality

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Or, “if at first you don’t succeed…”

I had planned out my Advent to incorporate a return to peace through mindfulness after a particularly difficult year. It wasn’t supposed to be overly involved or unattainable.

As a matter of fact, I figured it would be simple to slide back into staying more present, particularly since we are heading into one of my favorite times of the year. Hourly check-ins, more dedicated meditation time, a concerted effort at staying present all day long and avoiding anxious reactivity—oh, the blissful calm that would flood my life!

Hmmm, this did not go according to plan.
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Instead, none of that happened. I was still running up until bedtime when I’d scramble to meditate. Continuously forgot to set an hourly reminder to return to mindfulness. Found myself being yanked around emotionally. And I didn’t even unpack any of the remaining moving boxes that are sitting around the new apartment.

An entire week of Advent was gone and I felt like I frittered it away. I was expecting to feel a bit more grounded by now, but I’m not even getting a decent night’s sleep.

So, I sat down to take a look at where I ran off the road. And truthfully, I was never even on one.

I stated my intention for Advent in last week’s post…and then aimlessly wandered off into the woods.

This is a good reminder that mindfulness doesn’t happen on its own, no matter how long you’ve been practicing it. By its very definition, it requires attention.

Funny, in order to practice mindfulness, you kinda need to be mindful about it.

This time, I had a brilliant idea: why not actually DO the thing that I planned to do?
(Photo: @FranticShanti)

Enough belly-aching. I brushed myself off, hiked up my pants and did the following: I set a timer. This could have been any sort of timer, but I used the Plum Village smartphone app’s “Bell of Mindfulness” timer, set to ring (well, “bong” actually) once every 20 minutes from 8am to 8am.

It’s a low, soulful tone that rumbles through whatever else I’m doing, while at the same time not sounding intrusive.

When I hear the “bong”, I take a deep breath and notice what that feels like. Quite often, that breath turns into a deep sigh and I realize that my breath before was shallower. So I take a few more deep breaths.

That type of diaphragmatic breathing, into the belly, activates the parasympathetic (“rest and digest”) nervous system, and thereby the relaxation response.

Then I go back to my work until I hear the next “bong” and this process repeats.

By mid-afternoon, I found that I was much more aware of my breath and was breathing deeper during the interval between the bonging. And that was just the first day.

Ahhhh, this was a much better plan than my previous “no-plan” plan. Yes, I was bummed that I hadn’t implemented an actual plan a week ago, but here I am now and it’s working well.

The best part is, you can’t really “fall behind” on being mindful. Unlike where I am with my Advent cheese calendar…

Advent 2025: Turning Inward

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Sunday, November 30 marks the start of Advent. While this is a time period associated with a Christian tradition that encompasses the four Sundays and intervening weeks preceding Christmas—and is considered a season of preparation—I believe that it’s a season that can be appreciated by all, regardless of religious beliefs.

Certainly, stores are very willing to cash in on Advent calendars, some of which are extremely elaborate and quite expensive. That’s a sad reminder that where there’s a tradition, there’s a way to make money off of it.

Yep, there’s an Advent calendar for that.
(Photo: @FranticShanti)

There are more mindful ways of treating this season. While I celebrate Advent every year, as I’ve gotten older, the way that I focus on this time of the year has changed.

It used to be common to “give something up” for Advent. As a child, it was generally sweets, so that when the Christmas holiday came around, we would enjoy desserts all the more.

However, there are more meaningful ways to spend the 3+ weeks prior to end-of-year holidays.

Instead of “giving up” something that I might simply go back to once the holidays hit, I use Advent to help me form new and important habits, or to reinforce practices that I might have allowed to slip.

This year year has been a challenging one for me. I found myself pushing meditation back to evening time, right before bed…and I’d often fall asleep before I was done.

With so many changes and stressors in my life, I have spent too much of the day running, exhausted and not paying attention to what my body and mind are feeling. So for this Advent season, I’ve decided to reacquaint the rest of my day with staying mindful and present.

We can all use a reminder to remain mindful throughout our day.
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Therefore, my focus has turned inward. I am paying more attention to sensations in my hands and feet, starting with the physical aspects of making my morning coffee (decaf) and tea (matcha). I have set a reminder on my phone to check in at least once an hour to see where my body is in space, no matter where I am. When I do so, I consider how long it’s been since I stretched my limbs or had a drink of water. In doing so, I anchor myself in the present moment and remember that difficulties ebb and wane like the tides.

Yes, I still have a lot of take care of, and the last month brought some painful changes that I have to fully deal with. And I can’t truly “slow down” at work the way some might suggest. But mindfulness works with my schedule.

Staying present means that I can keep pace with my responsibilities instead of allow them to run roughshod over me, since it helps me avoid a sense of overwhelm. Yes, that requires discipline as my tendency is to allow myself to get swept up in the torrent of anxiety and busyness that is my life. But I remain conscious of the fact that I get done what I can, and that is enough.

For anyone who feels that this isn’t “religious” enough, I disagree. I find that experiencing the present moment may be one of the most sacred things that you can do. You honor the nature of the season by being a participant in it, not simply a passive passenger in the whoosh of activities that mindlessly steamroll us through the holidays in the New Year.

I wish you a joyous Advent season!

A Thanksgiving Thought and Imminent Return

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I’ve taken a month or so off from posting due to our apartment move, but I should be back next week.

If there’s one thing that this move has taught me is that sometimes the things you fear the most (like change, for example) end up being what you need the most.

In our case, this move has come with so many positives…including a major purging of belongings that has created not only physical space, but also some much-needed headspace.

There is a certain lightness of being that releasing possessions we don’t need or use anymore has brought us.

This is just what I needed coming into Thanksgiving season. Granted there have been some unexpected and painful changes too, but I can be grateful for what we have had and enjoyed thus far.

So if you celebrate Thanksgiving, make sure to take time to consider all the things around you and, regardless of whether they’re good or bad, what they have taught you.

Have a wonderful week!

Breast Cancer: Know When to Say When

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This is going to be short because I’m on the cusp of moving my family to a new apartment…and that’s going to take more work now that one of our cars is finally having its damage repaired.

So this is a gentle reminder to slow down and look around once in a while. Life’s obligations can push us like a bulldozer and we might not notice that we’re worn out until something happens that forces us into a mini-vacation.

Something, perhaps, like chemotherapy.

Who needs some love? You do.
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And if you need a cancer diagnosis (or a broken bone or the flu or…) to give you a break from the pressures of work and family, then I think we can all agree that your mental health needs more love than you’ve been giving it.

Yes, easier said than done. But there are little breaks you can take. A 10-minute body scan meditation or guided breathing practice. A matcha tea break where you focus on the movements of your hands as they prepare your cup. Staring out the window and counting trees/people/cars.

It doesn’t have to be a pricey spa day. You can have a spa inside your head with a phone app and a set of headphones. You just need to care enough about yourself to allow this.

Believe me, I care about you and I don’t even know you. You are the whole reason why I started this blog and why I keep it going, even eight years after my diagnosis. I hope it helps you remember that you are worth being cared for. ❤

Breast Cancer: Life in the Breakdown Lane

Last week, I walked out to my car, which had been parked on the street, to find that someone had hit it. The driver’s side mirror was ripped off, the wheel cover was smashed and the side was dented.

Two things immediately became evident: 1) we were lucky that the person responsible had left us a note with their phone number, (2) we were going to have to completely restructure our travel expectations for the foreseeable future.

While I found a lot to be grateful for in the situation, it also reminded me of a traffic analogy that I have used to describe what happens after you’re handed a cancer diagnosis.

Diagnosis? That’ll throw a wrench into your current plans.
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Being told you have cancer is like getting into a traffic accident: you’re moving along with everyone else in their cars, focusing on getting to where you need to be, and then all of a sudden *CRASH*.

You pull your car over to the side, still stunned by the collision, and take stock of the damage to both your vehicle and yourself.

And as you stand there, all that traffic that you were moving along with has left you behind. You are no longer part of the natural flow of things. All the plans that you had to be somewhere and expectations for what you were going to do this week and next…all of that stops.

You hear the noisy din of traffic and the “Dopplered” sounds of cars zooming by, feeling the whoosh of air as they pass. But when there’s a lull in the traffic, the quiet brings on loneliness, as if the other travelers have moved on and you’ve been forgotten.

The rest of life whooshes by you.
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Now you have to rework your life. Instead of taking your ability to move through the city for granted, you’re scrambling to figure out what you’re going to have to cancel, how you’ll get to where you need to go and what the immediate future will look like until you get your car back in working order.

In the meantime, you see everyone else progressing along, as they have been, completely unaware of what life looks like in the breakdown lane. Having pleasant conversations, arriving at work on time, meeting with business associates, eating from cafeteria salad bars without the need to double disinfect their lettuce and tomatoes.

Not needing to schedule multiple appointments or surgeries or infusions or radiation treatments. It is such a different life!

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Shortly after receiving a cancer diagnosis there’s so much going on that it can be difficult to articulate everything you’re feeling, and those around you might have a hard time relating. I’ve found that this analogy can be helpful in relaying what the experience is like.

See if this works for you too.

Breast Cancer: Finding Gratitude as a Cancer Patient

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I’m not going to lie, gratitude can be difficult to navigate as a cancer patient.

When you’re mourning your diagnosis and trying to hold yourself together from the shock, the last thing you want is for some sunny person to tell you to think about everything you’re grateful for.

At such a time, it can be very difficult to think of anything. I, personally, felt a lot of anger, bitterness and even betrayal after I was told I had breast cancer. It wasn’t a great set of feelings to sink into, but that was my reality.

While I tried doing gratitude practices, in the beginning the process was miserable and felt “fake”. The whole notion of being grateful struck me as forced and required me to think about things I didn’t want to focus on.

Tough to be grateful? Make a list of what doesn’t suck.
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However, what helped me was making a list. It started out as a list of things about which I could say, “well, at least this didn’t happen” and slowly shifted to “well, this thing made my life easier”. It enabled me to find positives that I had otherwise overlooked.

I wasn’t grateful for getting cancer. But having bosses whose wives had survived breast cancer made it easier for them to understand what I was going through…and also to offer some useful advice (as did their wives).

I didn’t have the luxury of not working throughout treatment, but I was glad that a series of big projects had ended the previous year, so I didn’t have a huge workload waiting for me at the office. And while I really wished I could have had a full-time income, my part-time position meant that I had an easier time shifting my schedule to accommodate appointments and days off following infusions.

Additionally, it was fortunate that the region in which I live had a number of highly lauded cancer centers. And my cancer center offered free counseling by excellent therapists specifically trained to work with cancer patients.

It was also a plus that the summer during which I had my chemo infusions ended up being mild—luckily, since we didn’t have air conditioning—and my fear of enduring nausea through hot summer days never became a reality.

My list got longer and longer.

Opening the door to gratitude soothes the overwrought mind.
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So little by little, I started to pick through all the things that ended up better than they could have been. I didn’t call it “gratitude” at first because I was still bitter and refused to accept that there was anything to be grateful for. But the more things that came up that made me realize how much better the situation had turned out…the easier it was to finally come around to the idea that, even in the midst of the crappiest-thing-that-could-happen, there truly were things that I could l squeeze out a bit of gratitude for.

It took time. But when I loosened my grip on bitterness, I allowed in a swell of gratefulness, so much so that it was almost overwhelming how, if I had to get cancer, if it truly had to happen, there were so many things that had gone right. I started feeling so much better emotionally.

So my advice to anyone who wants to try out that “gratitude stuff” to see why it’s so great for your mental health: be gentle, start slowly and don’t tell anyone you’re doing it. This is a private practice for you. When you finally allow yourself to zero in on those little things that aren’t so bad or are kind of fortuitous given the situation, you may find that they buoy your spirits.

That’s all it takes. Not need to rush. Let the appreciation come to you.