franticshanti

Mindfulness 101: You’ve Got Options!

It’s been a long work day so this post has a simple message: you have options in practicing mindfulness meditation. And then for good measure, at the end I toss in an article about other meditation practices you can try.

In a nutshell, mindfulness meditation is the process of noticing your thoughts (“awareness”) and observing them without judgment (“acceptance”). It often involves an anchor, such as the sensation of the breath or a constant sound in the background, that the meditator focuses on for the purpose of grounding and staying present. The anchor is what we return to after we realize we’ve been pulled away by thoughts.

The anchor to presence is what we return to after we find ourselves carried away by thoughts.

This way we explore the concept of impermanence as it relates to life and our own situation. Everything is in flux. Negative experiences pass, positive experiences pass and we move through it all. The more we practice, the more we are able to notice the ups and downs without being as affected by them.

In the same way, I consider mindfulness meditation to be fluid without rigid rules. For example, you do *not* have to be seated in Lotus pose with your hand on your heart. You do not need a special cushion, outfit or music. There are no specific words to recite or candles to light. However, you are welcome to do all of these.

Lying down, seated on a chair, leaning against a tree or riding a crowded bus holding on to a strap are all viable positions. Eyes open, closed or half-shut. Paying attention to bird songs, a light rain, a washing machine or cars whooshing down the road, all good. In the early morning, during a work break, when the kids are napping or when you’re settling in for the evening are all ideal opportunites.

You don’t have to be in a specific location in order to practice mindfulness meditation, although admittedly some places come with a better view than others.

Even carelessly sprawled out on your bed, noticing how it feels to do that, no matter how dorky you think you look. Mindfulness doesn’t judge.

All of these are good conditions under which to practice mindfulness meditation and that is one of the things that I feel makes it an ideal meditation starting point.

As you continue to practice, you develop a tool with which to nurture a sense of peace and calm down a busy mind. It is a tool that you can take with you no matter where you go, like a little gift for yourself that you keep in your pocket, bringing it out whenever there is a need.

And since we’re talking “meditation options”…

I’ll finish up by noting that just as there are different ways to engage in mindfulness meditation, there are a number of other meditations that you can try if you want some variety.

For that, I’m going to punt you over to an article on the website Healthline, written by Holly J. Bertone, CNHP, PMP, and Crystal Hoshaw, entitled, “Which Type of Meditation Is Right for Me?” I really liked the information mentioned here, including the nine types of meditation that they describe:

mindfulness meditation
spiritual meditation
focused meditation
movement meditation
mantra meditation
transcendental meditation
progressive relaxation
loving-kindness meditation
visualization meditation

See the Healthline article for more information.

I do not believe that the above is an exhaustive list by any means, although it is a wonderful place to start if you want to explore other meditative practices. While I feel that mindfulness is one of the most accessible meditations for beginners, if you feel inspired to try something new, there are many options to choose from.

The only thing you “should” do is begin. 🙂

Mindfulness 101: Avoiding Avoidance

There is, unfortunately, a trap that some people may fall into when practicing mindfulness meditation.

In the context of selecting a point of focus that anchors you into the present, there is that teensy possibility that someone just starting out with meditation might focus without equanimity.

Equanimity is the ability to maintain balance and a sense of calm in both good and bad situations. It is the acceptance that impermanence and suffering are a part of life, and it is the state of allowing all feelings to pass through you, observing them without judgement or expectations brought on by previous experiences.

Equanimity is being able to allow in both the good and the bad without getting dragged through it.

Allowing emotions in when you’re trying to stay calm and collected might seem a little counter-intuitive, but in fact, I consider it to be to goal of mindfulness meditation. That’s because the most important time to maintain a sense of inner peace is exactly when the proverbial sh!t hits the proverbial fan. Mindfulness meditation provides us with a safe space within which to practice just that.

The tendency, however, is to try to keep difficult emotions out. I myself encounter a lot of resistance when doing guided meditations that focus on bringing up uncomfortable thoughts, particularly in the evening, when I’m most susceptible to anything that might perturb my sleep.

However, not allowing those thoughts in can set up a pattern of avoidance, depriving us of the opportunity to learn to deal with them. And this avoidance can imbue difficult thoughts with even more power, as if they become the boogeyman lurking behind a door that we’re terrified to open. That’s not a good thing.

So how do we get around this?

Pick a good time to explore the stickier side of things; I would caution against the evening, when, as I mentioned above, bringing up tough feelings can agitate you and make it more difficult to fall asleep. Keep the environment quiet, comforting and safe, with gentle music in the background, if that suits you. I like mid-morning time and natural light, with a cup of tea or cacao or anything else that feels soothing.

Choose your anchor: your breath, a bodily sensation like tingling in your hands, a constant sound in the the background…even lofi music from YouTube.

If you feel too drifty, keep your eyes open to help ground you. Perhaps focus them on an object that brings you peace, such as the photograph of a loved one or an image of a peaceful place.

Give yourself a calm opportunity to explore complicated emotions.

Breathe deeply and pay attention to gripping or tightness in your body, especially forehead, jaw, neck, shoulders and belly. Consciously release any areas that seem to clench as you go along.

And then allow whatever comes up to come up. Observe them…and then let them go. No need to analyze or justify. Imagine that you’re made of Teflon and those uncomfortable images slide off you.

If needed, sit further away from them. When the intensity gets too high, you might need space, so imagine that they are flowing past as if you’re on the bank of a river and they are the leaves that float by on the surface of the water. They come and they go and you breathe deeply through it all.

As you practice, maintain your focus the best that you can. The point of your focus is not the thoughts, it’s the breath or whatever other anchor you might have chosen. This way, the thoughts move independently and subside as smoothly as they appeared. If you find yourself getting stuck, return to your anchor and remind yourself that in this moment, you are safe.

IMPORTANT: If your thoughts are tied to trauma or the intensity seems unbearable, please seek out the help of someone professionally qualified to help you deal with them. Mindfulness meditation is a wonderful tool, but sometimes it’s not enough.

“So, What Should We Talk About?”: My Six-Year, End-of-Chemo Appointment

A little over a week ago, I had another oncological appointment. This one marked my six years since completing chemo for triple positive breast cancer.

Honestly, at this point, the conversation between my doctor and myself has turned much more social. There are not as many pressing matters to discuss. My bloodwork is normal and boring. I don’t have side effects to speak of, at least not any that I can attribute solely to cancer treatment (hello, menopause, ugh). And even my oncologist is openly positive about my future.

Wow, have things changed.

Six years ago I was dealing with the effects of a nasty fingernail infection that landed me in the ER (be forewarned before clicking that link: it was pretty gross!). But for this appointment, I was asking my doc how HE was feeling.

Our conversations have become pleasantly mundane and I enjoy catching up with him. Also, I am panicking less.

As a cancer survivor, I do not like surprises. When my doc says to schedule an exam, I’m going to do it fast!

Much less. Even when I do lapse into micro-panic, I have accompanying moments of calm. That is a definite improvement. At the same time, cancer is cancer. So when my oncologist noticed that I hadn’t had a pelvic exam this year, he told me I needed it. And then before our appointment ended, he repeated that I should get one.

For a brief instant, my emergency alarms went off.

Maybe it was the fact that he repeated himself and seemed very serious about it. After six years of hypervigilance, I still get unnerved by slight shifts in tone of voice. I think that’s hard-wired in me, seared in via anxiety, even though my days of being a hot stress-mess are behind me.

It’s so tempting to wipe my hands off and pretend that everything is normal, but cancer teaches us that some nasty stuff might be lurking under the surface of, “I’m sure it’s nothing”. My days of innocent ignorance are gone.

So, yeah, I’m fine. Still no recurrence of a cancer in my breasts. Probably not anywhere else either. I’ll remain optimistic and look forward to seeing my oncologist in six months and chatting again.

But I’m going to schedule a pelvic exam soon.

The Satisfying Pleasure of Letting Go

If you’ve read my last couple of posts (here and here), you’ll know that I’ve been dealing with the frustrations of water leaks, never-ending renovations and unfortunate coincidences.

Hopefully, this will be the third and last installment of the trials and tribulations concerning this situation. But just to catch you up, the cabinets which were supposed to be installed Thursday, not in time for our houseguest’s arrival on Wednesday, but just a day late…were not.

Yet again, there were dashed expectations: one of the cabinets arrived with a crushed side and was unable to be used. So the innards of these cabinets are still piled up on and under the dining table and the place looks disheveled.

When things start blowing up, sometimes all you can do is sit back and enjoy the show.

And due to the completely unrelated construction taking place outside, which will prevent daytime access to our unit for several days, there will be no cabinet installation for at least another week, regardless of when the new cabinets come in.

But you know what? It’s okay.

I had wanted to have everything put together for our guest. That was not possible, so–admittedly after much jaw clenching–I completely let go. The crushed cabinet, the disruptive construction, I’m simply accepting it and that feels so good.

It really doesn’t matter when the cabinets are put up or what other monkey wrenches are thrown into the mix. We’ll get to closure when we get there.

Which is a good thing because on Saturday evening, I discovered another leak in the walls that soaked the new (still unpainted) drywall and flooded out the unit below us. And I’m totally serious. The inside of our hall closet sounded like a rainstorm.

Well, we needed rain…

I guess I could have been more stressed about it, but with everything that had already taken place, I shrugged. We notified out unit owner, we called the plumber, we waited for the leak to be fixed.

Another day, another leak, another disruption, another hole in the drywall. Still okay.

These are still problems that need to be dealt with. But whether it’s skillful mindfulness (probably not) or simply emotional exhaustion (more likely), it’s not getting to me and it feels amazing to stay calm under such circumstances.

I know I cannot avoid stressors in my life. So I’m trying to remember what this feels like. If I can draw on this experience the next time an upheaval occurs, perhaps I can slip into gentle acceptance and let reactive anxiety pass me by?

“Dropping a Plumb Line”: Dealing with Disappointment

This is a follow up of my last post, where I described the unending saga of unfinished repairs following a leak in our apartment, something that left me feeling helpless.

Before I posted last week, I removed a section that I’d written about fears of kitchen cabinets not arriving on schedule, and that they’d be hung after our upcoming houseguest had arrived and the place would still be torn apart. I cut it out because I thought, “Come on you’re catastrophizing, no one needs to read about that.”

Except that that’s exactly what happened. I got a call that there was another delay. All the expectations I’d had came crashing down in one big pile of disappointment. That is, disappointment mixed with shame, self-judgment, embarrassment, depression, etc. because I’d mixed so many feelings of self-worth into having our apartment be fixed up prior to our guest’s arrival.

This was something so biting for me as a middle-aged women who, despite being an employed “professional”, was still locked into the idea that whatever else I accomplished didn’t matter if my home wasn’t in guest-ready condition.

I tried to do a meditation on imagining what it would feel like if everything that had happened was the way it was meant to be, but I couldn’t even muster that feeling of acceptance.

Again it was the expectation, the need that I had to have things be different. I tried sitting with my disappointment but the feelings were sticky and pulled me down even more.

So then I thought, if it’s the unrealized expectation that I had, the one that had built up over the last two-plus months of restoration agony in which I had no control and was at the mercy of the HOA, our landlord and anyone else…how do I soften that expectation to make this better?

Oh, how differently things look when you drop down into a situation without prior expectations.

I regrouped and tried meditating again, but this time I was dropping straight into the situation, vertically, without those weeks of built up frustration and need. As if I were sitting on the tip of a plumb line, called into action and ready to problem-solve.

What would it feel like to come into this situation right now? If I were to start out by knowing that I’d have to deal with the kitchen being in boxes in the living room area where our guest is supposed to sleep and then move forward from there.

I imagined myself arriving without baggage and it felt so much better. Suddenly, my focus was on dealing with the situation instead of lamenting about how things could have been. This was more productive and less agonizing. Yes, potentially still frustrating, but it took me out of the magnified disappointment that didn’t even make sense from this perspective.

It was such a small shift but it made a significant and immediate difference. That emotional wall that I’d been hitting fell away and I could see solutions. And now things didn’t look that bad. Yes, things looked different but given that I felt so much better and more in-control, this was the best outcome that I could have expected, given the situation.

Again, perspective came to the rescue and I was reminded that there is always a path out of every situation if we give ourselves space to consider it.

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And now, off to clean the bathroom.

Managing Expectations: A Reflection

As I sit at home waiting for the stormy remnants of what used to be Hurricane Hilary to pass by, a bit of reflecting…

There is a saying attributed to Buddha: “The root of all suffering is attachment.”

While there is much that can be and has been written about this, I’d like to bring it down to something very concrete in my life.

It seems so simple, this letting go of our expectations. But we humans are hard-wired not to do that!

One of the wonderful attributes that we as humans have is the ability to plan. Yes, that’s been evidenced in very clever animals, but humans take it to a whole new level.

Where that incredible gift fails us is that in the process of planning, our goals and expectations become very real in our minds, and if they don’t play out as we had anticipated…well, sometimes we don’t deal with the disappointment well.

For instance, in such situations I experience stress and anxiety. Others may react with anger and frustration.

Regardless of the outlet (whether handwringing or yelling), it’s safe to say that the outcome is not pleasant for anyone. And yet letting go is hard when we are really counting on the expectation being realized. Or perhaps even worse, when we get lost in thoughts of how things could have been.

Consider this scenario: let’s say that following a leak in our apartment and subsequent slow repair process, two months later our water-damaged kitchen cabinets haven’t yet been replaced.

But wait, I get word that the cabinets are coming finally coming in this Friday, August 25th and will be installed the following Monday (28th)! Expectation established! And it’s not a small one because most of our kitchen and the entire dining room have been sitting in the living room area for over eight weeks.

Oh, how difficult it is to sit with what’s happening in the present moment — we’re always looking to see what’s up ahead or somewhere in the past. The greatest peace I’ve ever felt is to simply be here.

WOW, do I want this to get fixed! We have a house guest arriving on Wednesday the 30th who is supposed to sleep in the living room. Weeks ago, when she arranged to visit, I was sure that all the repairs to our apartment would have been done long ago. But now, between the cabinet installation and her arrival, I don’t have a lot of time to clear out the mess and get everything back in its place.

I cannot let go of the need for everything to go smoothly. But while I’m struggling with the burden of that need, I’m simultaneously living through the stress of, “oh no, what if it doesn’t work out that way???”

So there you go, a double-whammy. All this because although I know better, I latch on to how I want/need things to be. Either expecting perfect success or total disaster.

Letting go will never be as easy to do as it is to talk about. But in my brightest moments, I am able to step outside the confines of my thinking, move out of myself and get perspective on the present situation, accepting that I cannot predict and shouldn’t expect too deeply. That’s when I experience the highest level of calmness.

And then, as will happen, I forget and sink back into my small, highly personal mind, where I once again cling to having things be a certain way.

Hang On, Honeybee!

A few days ago, I took my daughter to the train station, about a 7-mile drive.

As we pulled out of our driveway, I noticed a honeybee on my side window, close to the middle of the pane. It was a foggy morning so the little girl must have lost her way.

In the past, when I start accelerating and there’s a bug on the glass, the insect takes off (or the wind “encourages” her to take off). But not this little bee. She hung on tightly.

Part of the drive was along a stretch of road with a faster speed limit, reaching over 50mph. I wanted to get my daughter to the train early, so I couldn’t drive much slower. At the same time, I was getting very invested in the bee, still hunkered down and holding on.

My daughter suggested that we take the freeway for part of the trip, but I protested, concerned that the bee’s grip wouldn’t be able to handle the acceleration.

Through faster and slower speeds, my tiny hitchhiker clung hard. Her little wings seemed to be fluttering, battered by the wind, but she was not letting go.

She made it all the way to the train station, holding on like crazy! My tenacious little girl! Then took the opportunity to clean herself up. ❤

And then we finally arrived at the station. My daughter made her train with time to spare and I sat in the lot nearby waiting for it to depart. In the meantime, my little bee had started to preen herself, cleaning up her antennae and straightening the hairs on her legs.

I was so impressed with her ability to hold on!

By this time, the fog had lifted but it was still very cloudy–not proper bee-navigation weather. And I was concerned that if the bee took off from the station, 7 miles from home, she’d never find her way back. I needed to return her to familiar lands!

When we returned home, she sat very still. I held my breath.

Now I was 100% into this. And apparently, so was my little bee. Because in the process of grooming she had edged closer to the frame of the car window. Smart girl, because that meant less air resistance! As I started driving, she expertly tucked her wings together, widened her stance, and…if a bee could give a thumbs up, I’m sure that’s what she’d have done.

On the way home, I drove a little more slowly, trying not to go over 40mph and a lot slower whenever possible. She looked determined to make it.

But when I pulled into our driveway and parked the car, she and I both sat motionless. C’mon, I thought, you’ve made it this far. You’re home. You’ve got to be okay!

Looking more closely it seemed like one of her legs was moving, perhaps twitching a bit. But nothing more.

I wasn’t going anywhere until I knew all was well. At that point, clouds were starting to thin and the outline of the sun becoming visible through them. THE SUN! Coming to the rescue!

My little heroine recovered and immediately took to smoothing her antennae, as if 14-mile journeys were an everyday thing. ❤

Eventually, my little bee started straightening her hairs again, then grooming quite vigorously. The air was warming, the sun was coming out, and my darling girl was getting herself together after taking a battering on the road.

Finally, the sun was bright enough to cast shadows, increasing in strength by the minute. And my bee, stalwart little travel companion, walked up the glass onto the door frame to finish warming up.

One last view of her as the sun was coming out. She was vigorously brushing through her hairs and antennae. Ready to return to her sisters and charm them with stories of where she’d been, what she’d seen and how she’d held on. ❤

I returned to my apartment feeling uplifted by the tenacity of that little creature. She had a purpose and was committed to it. What a beautiful analogy for holding on when we think we can’t go any further, when no one would expect us to keep going. Even then, we manage. Because no matter how bad things seem, the sun will come out and we will find our way home.

“Am I Clenching?”; or “Wait, Where’s My Tree?”

A few days ago I realized that we were missing a tree out in front of our balcony. Not some little sapling that could be easily overlooked, but a tall, mature pine tree that offered us shade during hot summer afternoons.

It was gone, only stumps remaining. I was stunned. After I furiously texted my family for answers (WHERE IS THE TREE???), my husband texted back that it hadn’t been there for weeks, and I hadn’t noticed its disappearance even though I’d been out on the balcony numerous times.

That was weird.

So, you might be wondering what that has to do with this post. Well, it’s easy to cruise through life not being fully aware of what’s going on around us…or in our bodies. Just like I was imaging the tree was still there (while also wondering why the plants on the balcony were drying up much faster this summer), many times I’m also not aware that I’m holding tension in my body.

Perfect example: I had trouble falling asleep a few nights ago. After lying awake in bed for some time, it struck me that I was clenching just about every part of my body. My jaws, neck, shoulders, back, glutes…everything had tightened into knots.

I had been concerned about preparations for a party that we were to attend the next day–and I was aware of that–but all of those worries had passed into my physical being, and that I wasn’t aware of. Good luck trying to get to sleep when you’re as rigid as a board!

So I started a little dance of releasing those muscles, then drifting back to my “normal” state of what can only be described as oblivious unattention, until I noticed that I was still not sleeping and–oh look!–everything was rigid again, so I released my muscles again…

Sometimes I find myself clenching just a teensy bit too tightly…

Yes, I went through the process of relaxing my face, my jaw, my neck…blah blah blah…if you’re a meditator, you know the drill. But a few minutes later, everything had clenched up again without me realizing it.

This went on for a while. When I get caught in a “loop of oblivion” like this, one of the first things I do is stop. Just halt the dance. And take a very deep breath.

That’s the first start in resetting things. Think of it as a much kindler, gentler version of someone slapping you in the face and yelling, “Get it together!”

And that’s when my broader awareness returned and I was able to get out of autopilot mode, acknowledging my mental tension and thereby the physical one. It was a perspective shift because I wasn’t just thinking, “Will we get everything done in time?”

I realized what was actually happening: “All this concern about getting everything done in time is keeping me up.”

That slight shift enabled me to pull back and out of myself, brush off the worries about things I could do nothing about at the moment, and drift off to sleep. But it also reminded me that I need to practice awareness more than I had been. In a sense, I was now more aware of the need to stay even more aware.

Yes, even after years of understanding the importance of mindfulness, I must return to square one and refocus. I don’t think I’ll ever not be restarting, especially not as long as trees keep disappearing from under my nose. But that’s okay…the journey is soothing and the practice itself is a destination. My main task is to not stop practicing.

From a Safe Distance

It’s hard to believe that six years ago I was a week and a half away from my final chemo infusion, in the thick of being a cancer patient with no idea of what tomorrow would bring.

Cancer survivorship used to be a whole lotta “looking over your shoulder” for the next thing to hit.

I also thought that I’d live the rest of my life, however much or little of it there was left, in fear, always looking over my shoulder to see if cancer was close behind. In fact, after my active treatment was over, I expected that my anxiety would increase because I imagined that whatever had triggered my tumor growth would again be unleashed and ready to attack my again.

And when I had to stop aromatase inhibitors early due to side effects, I envisioned even more terror because I wouldn’t have the medication’s protection anymore.

None of this suggested that I would have a very pleasant future. Either I would get cancer again…or I’d be consumed by worry over getting cancer again.

Reality turned out to be quite different.

The more (1) I practiced being present, coupled with the (2) increasing distance between my last dose and today, the easier it has become. Now, that might sound like a no-brainer, but it was news to me.

And I don’t know exactly when I turned the corner on my fear but it was probably after the worst letrozole side effects ceased and I was able to reflect on and accept that cancer happened and now I was moving past it.

It took years to get to that point, but it would have probably come sooner if I hadn’t convinced myself that I’d never get there.

And how are things different now? I don’t think of cancer every minute of every day. And when I do think about it, it doesn’t seem as daunting.

I realized this after meeting a cancer survivor who works at a store that I frequent. She revealed that she’d just received her three-year “all-clear”. The relief on her face was unmistakable.

And it struck me that I used to have that incredible sense of gratitude too. And I still kind of do for a short bit, but it fades quickly as I turn my focus to the rest of my daily responsibilities.

Yes, I am still seeing my oncologist twice a year, having annual 3D mammograms AND the occasional MRI, so it’s less likely that something’s going to sneak up on me. But the concern is no longer as all-encompassing because it doesn’t feel as likely.

Of course, I could be kidding myself. Even after six-plus years I know that every set of scan results is a door to either “no evidence of disease (NED)” or “we’ll get you in to see the oncologist ASAP”. So far I keep going through the NED door…and it keeps opening onto a bright day.

In the midst of taking things for granted, it’s nice to stop and think about that.

Just Because It’s Summer: Flowers [PHOTOS]

Earth laughs in flowers.
Ralph Waldo Emerson

As we slog through extremely high temperatures in many parts of the world, I remind myself of how fortunate I am to be living in a relatively temperate area of the United States that somehow manages to evade the weather extremes faced by other parts of the country.

In this post, I’m celebrating the more pleasant parts of summer, namely the beautiful flowers that proliferate during this time of the year. My camera is an aging iPhone with limited features so my point is simply to showcase the abundance of colorful plantlife that is growing within a relatively small area around the complex where I life, rather than produce art-like photos.

Likewise, the flowers may be “lacking”, perhaps with browning edges or dirty petals or anything else that doesn’t look picture-perfect. But they are very real and a good reminder that there is so much that doesn’t look like it comes from the pages of a glossy magazine, and yet is still worthy of a mindful gaze.

There was a time when I could have rattled off the names of all of these, but while some are still familiar, others I cannot recall. So I’m posting them simply to appreciate for their form. I hope you enjoy!