franticshanti

Stop and Do This Now

^{(Title image: Photo by Ruslan Zh on Unsplash)}

No matter where you are reading this, pause now and take a deep breath.

And exhale.

How did that feel? How you were breathing right before you took that breath? Were you relaxed with deep breaths already? Or was your breathing quick and shallow and that sudden deep inhale felt very different?

For me, my breath is a reflection of my internal state. It’s a compass that points me to what is happening to me, regardless of what is going on around me. Many times, I’m not aware of how I am responding to things around me until I stop to notice my breathing.

And don’t forget to exhale.
(Photo by Kelly Jean on Unsplash)

Sometimes it takes a number of tries to achieve a deep inhale. Then I realize how shallow my breaths have been. That opens the door for me to consider how I’ve been reacting to things throughout the day. And it also leads to more deeper breaths as I settle down.

If I’m home, I may grab my flute — it is a Native American-style flute of red cedar wood. Holding it in my hands, enjoying the pleasant scent of cedar, playing a few bars of a mournful melody…all that helps to calm and ground me. It demands a controlled lungful of air for a clear tone, an elongated exhale that soothes me.

Did you take a deep breath at the start of this post? If not, try it now. And notice. Notice if it’s easy for your diaphragm to drop and pull in a good lungful of air, or does your body resist, as if something is squeezing your lungs, or your torso is bound tight?

Take several more breaths and allow them to expand your ribcage, coaxing more air in with every inhale and slowly releasing with every exhale. Until, like a balloon that has been stretched, the lungs fill fully, comfortably, easily.

And then just breathe. Allow yourself to stay where you are with whatever is taking place around you and keep breathing. Breathe mindfully for few minutes. Shake off the pressures of the day.

Then take one more deep breath…and carry on.

“Them’s Fightin’ Words!”: Discussing Cancer Language

^{(Photo by Thao LEE on Unsplash)}

Here’s something that I want to share from my Yoga4Cancer teacher training class. It’s an episode from a BBC podcast on the language that we use to talk about cancer, and it is excellent.

The podcast features a group of people touched by cancer: survivors who have finished their treatment and those who are still undergoing it. In one case, there is a woman who will never finish treatment because she needs to stay on it for the rest of her life.

Their topic of conversation circles around how they describe their situations and how they feel about the words that others use. I don’t want to give too much away because the discussion is engaging and even humorous, so I do encourage you to listen for yourselves.

BBC Radio 4 “Fighting Talk: How Language Can Make Us Better” (https://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/m0001g8w).

I’d be really interested in knowing what your opinion on this is. Many of us might start with more aggressive talk concerning our cancer diagnoses: fight, beat, battle, etc. And yet as you’ll see, those terms can become problematic. We may get worn down by them as the treatment progresses.

How about “toxic positivity” from others? This is the tendency to push a narrative of upbeat positivity no matter what, even when it’s not appropriate to the situation. Such encouragement often ignores the tumultuous inner state of the cancer patient and can lead to a feeling of isolation

Open discussions about cancer help maintain an active support network for the diagnosed individual.
(Photo by Helena Lopes on Unsplash)

Everyone is different and as cancer survivors, we don’t expect well-meaning friends and family to know what personally irks us: for instance, there are differences between men and women in how they react to “fighting” metaphors. But it’s useful to bring a conversation like this into the open because cancer is one of those diseases that may make people around us feel uncomfortable.

A lot of people may not know what to say in response to your diagnosis, so they’ll say something vague and positive, or even nothing at all…and some may avoid you altogether. That can be unfortunate at a time where community support is especially important.

If you are currently undergoing treatment, understand that many around you might not have the vocabulary for talking about cancer in a way that resonates with you.

And if you are one of those friends who doesn’t know what to say, it can be best to admit that. Trying, “I don’t know what to say because I don’t want to say anything wrong,” can be more heartfelt and helpful than an awkwardly-cheery, “You got this!” or “Don’t give up the fight!”

I hope you enjoy the podcast episode!

An Eyeball Update…and Unfortunate Addendum

^{(Title image: Photo by Anastasiya Badun on Unsplash)}

Last Wednesday, I had a follow-up appointment with my ophthalmologist regarding the visual migraine auras I’d experienced during the second half of last year. [Read through to the end to see what happened a few days later on Sunday.]

I had gone to see her on November 22nd after the aura frequency had increased, and at that point, imaging of my eyes revealed little hemorrhages in both eyeballs, leading my doc to fear that something was exerting pressure, eliciting auras and busting little blood vessels.

And by “something”, she meant possibly a cause as serious as a tumor.

This time around, however, the hemorrhages were gone, healed on their own. As I mentioned in a previous post, my auras had ceased too. And even my eyeballs were not looking as parched as they had before.

Everything had improved. How often does that happen?

While I expected some improvement by virtue of the fact that I was no longer experiencing visual disturbances, I was a little surprised by the complete reversal. My eyeballs looked better than they had even during my first appointment with the eye doctor some months ago.

So we talked about the effects that stress might have had on me, since I had incorporated all sorts of anti-anxiety measures. My opthalmologist is very supportive of meditation and whatever else it takes to calm oneself down. She was very relieved that there was such a marked improvement.

And this made me think about how the extra effort I’d put into being mindful, pausing during the day, increasing meditation time and the like had really paid off. Simply taking the time to look around and notice how I felt, to evaluate the pressures that I was under, to be aware and present…all of this helped me realize where there were things that I could do to change what was happening.

The concept of self-efficacy comes to mind here. Because after going through a cancer journey where everything seems out of my hands, it’s refreshing to have the experience of being able to get a positive response from lifestyle changes.

And, yes, I have to admit: I am making assumptions here. I am assuming that in fact, the visual migraine auras were caused by a pile-on of factors that included anxiety, grief and depression. I am assuming that by being more self-aware of what I was going through, engaging in holistic methods for calming myself and showing self-compassion, even the increased consumption of theobromine, all worked together to help me get a handle on the emotional storm that I’d been facing. I could be completely wrong.

But you know what? It’s not beyond the realm of possibility that all these things were exactly what I needed.

Perhaps it’s not as simplistic as taking deeper breaths. But those self-soothing techniques do not hurt.

Of course, the trick now is to not get complacent. Life is still tough, and I know that I have some challenges coming up this year. Even the greatest techniques do no good if you start cutting corners.

But after the uncertainty of last year, the pain and the loss, once again I get the satisfaction of knowing that as difficult as it seems to be, I can survive this.

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ADDENDUM

The trick now is to not get complacent. I feel like I’m eating my words.

I had felt very positive when I wrote the first draft of this post last Friday. But perhaps after almost two months of no auras, I might have assumed that I was done with them.

Yesterday (Sunday), while driving in the car, I experienced another aura. It was “milder” and a little shorter than most, but *groan* it was still an aura. My heart sank.

A few days ago I had noticed that I was experiencing that involuntary sighing reflex again. I didn’t think much of it because, hey, I had everything under control, right? I guess not.

So today my mind is more unfocused, possibly additional stress from life or anxiety over the fact that I just had another aura after things were going so well. Honestly, I don’t know which. All I know is that auras are not going to simply disappear from my life altogether. I guess I should have expected a relapse.

Darn it.

“Not Just Hot Chocolate”: Making a Cup of Cacao [VIDEO]

^{(Title image: Photo by Pablo Merchán Montes on Unsplash)}

One of the experiences that I had in my yoga teacher training (YTT) class in early 2022 was an introduction to drinking cacao, which originated among indigenous peoples of Mesoamerica and had important sacred cultural meaning.

There’s a lot to say about cacao as it has been adopted in the West as part of spiritual introspection…or possibly exploited by practitioners who don’t fully understand its importance to the cultures from which it came. As such, google ‘ceremonial cacao’ and you will find a lot of information regarding its history on the websites of companies selling cacao. This article from Cacao Mama does a good job of providing a lot of information without immediately trying to sell you something: https://www.cacaomama.com/history-spirit/.

For this post, I want to share the process of making a cup for myself in the morning.

While cacao does have some caffeine, the main stimulant is theobromine, which is also a gentle mood-enhancer. I credit ceremonial grade cacao with being one of the things that helped me get through the visual migraine auras that I was experiencing. The extra mindfulness in making a cup of pure cacao with intention, opening up my senses to its aroma/color/taste, was soothing to me, as was knowing that I was partaking in something ancient and sacred…and of course, being bouyed by the theobromine.

For the time being, cacao has replaced my cup of macha in the morning and has provided yet another moment of calm prior to starting my workday.

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The first time I experienced a cup of cacao, I noticed an uplifted mood beyond what I expected, which lasted into the next day. If you have a chance to enjoy a cup—and can handle the stimulants and strong chocolate flavor (it’s not a Hershey bar!)—I encourage you to try it but also urge you to search for a company that treats the farmers who supply its cacao fairly and respectfully.

I have used Ora Cacao intermittently for the past few years and feel that they are honest and credible, deliver a high-quality product and care for their farmers and the Earth. I am confident that when I buy from them, I am getting the best cacao that I can find. [IMPORTANT: I am not compensated for this endorsement.]

Regrettably, due to the ever-increasing costs of purchasing pure, ethically sourced, ceremonial grade cacao, I may soon not be able to afford my morning cup, so I’ll appreciate it while I can.

“It’s Not a Toomah”: My Aura Theory

^{(Title image: Photo by Daniele Levis Pelusi on Unsplash)}

I’ve written in my blog that I was experiencing strange visual disturbances, most likely visual migraine auras. Note: I’ve never experienced migraine pain.

This is particularly worrisome for me as a survivor of triple-positive breast cancer, as there is a greater chance of that type of cancer metastasizing to the brain. Presumably, a growing tumor could restrict blood flow to areas of the brain that could result in me seeing strange things.

This was of great concern to my ophthalmologist. However, there was no pain associated with the auras, and pain would have been expected (but not necessarily required) if the auras were caused by a tumor.

There were other confounding variables, too. Since the summer of 2024, shortly before my father’s death, I had noticed that I was doing a lot of involuntary “sighing”. I’d experienced this type of sighing before, but this time it kept going for months, sometimes occurring a number of times an hour.

Naturally I googled it, and Dr. Google pointed out that excessive sighing was potentially associated with undiagnosed anxiety and depression. When I finally started writing out all my stressors, it because obvious to me that I had been far more deeply affected by what was going on in my life than I imagined.

So, after my appointments on Nov 22, I took time to grieve my father’s death, which I hadn’t done up to then. I thought I had accepted his passing and moved on, but clearly I hadn’t. I sought hugs and solace from family members and expressed what I was feeling.

My last aura was on Nov 29th. After that, along with allowing space for grief, I expanded my time in meditation, added up to an hour of breathwork a day and even included a daily cup of ceremonial-grade cacao (for the theobromine).

Mindfulness took a front seat. I paused at various points of the day to simply take deep breaths. I paid attention to what my body was doing and what thoughts were running through my mind. I made a concerted effort to show compassion to myself, more than I had in a long time.

The auras did not come back. As of this writing, it has been 45 days since the last aura. I had been having them once a week, and at their worst, a couple a week and even two on one evening.

I am well aware of the power of the mind. My educational background is in graduate-level psychology and I myself have experienced psychosomatic pain before. But honestly, I never expected to have such a striking response to anxiety/depression/grief.

I have searched for a good visual representation of an aura and it’s hard to find one that actually reflects what I was experiencing. It was something like this:

This is not exactly what it looks like for me, as some of my auras have been “thicker” and more “stained glass-like” in color, looking more zigzagged (as if the entire half-circle is made up of triangular pieces of vividly bright LED-like colors). Also, mine were gone within about 20 minutes.

That’s not an insignificant reaction to something that is going on in my head. My brain created those auras. That is amazing.

I should mention, I never had an MRI so technically a tumor cannot be ruled out. And neither can some other cause that I have not considered. However, the fact that my auras stopped after I put concerted effort into exploring my anxiety, acknowledging depression and recognizing that I was not okay with the pressures I was under suggests that it’s probably not a tumor.

Simple Meditations: Just a Piece of the Puzzle

Over the holiday break, I indulged myself by lassoing the family into working on a couple of jigsaw puzzles that I’d been saving. It was great! And if one of your goals for 2025 is to establish a mindfulness/meditation habit, here’s a simple practice to try if you, too, enjoy jigsaw puzzles.

Putting together the puzzle itself can be a great pasttime, offering good conversation and comraderie when working with others, or proving a shift of focus when constructing solo.

However, a large multi-piece puzzle can feel overwhelming at the start, even when you’re experienced and KNOW that eventually everything will click into place.

Ah, the joy of a finished puzzle. This one is from the Ravensburger Cozy Series and is a favorite of mine. Such a great experience putting it together with family!

So here’s my suggestion. Put your puzzle together. With whatever help you need, with whomever wants to participate, no matter how long it takes. Because for this, you want to start from the end.

Now, take apart of corner of the puzzle. It’s up to you about how many pieces you will want to remove, but choose a “comfortable” amount. Twenty? Fifty? Start with fewer pieces the first time you try this.

Once you’ve deconstructed that corner, put it back together. But this time, without the “stress” of doing the whole thing. This will be easy. You know that it’s only a handful of pieces. So simply enjoy the process.

The deconstructed corner turns putting the puzzle together into an meditative exercise. The focus is on contemplation, not completion. Enjoy the satisfaction of the clicking the pieces into place.

Perhaps find the edge pieces and create the frame, or simply build out the puzzle from the “raggedly” edges of the puzzle. There is no single “right” way to do this. What is important is that you breathe through the process. Picking up a piece, focusing on its qualities, seeing where it belongs. Either clicking it in or putting it back down and picking up another piece until you find the one that will go where you want it to.

Notice the sensations: the feeling of the puzzle piece in your hand, its shape and color, the texture of the interlocking sides, even the smell of the cardboard all work together to bring you back to the present moment.

The goal is contemplation, not completion. When you’ve put all the pieces together…do it again with another corner. You get the satisfaction of clicking the pieces into place without the fleeting stress of “omg, where do I start?” In turn, this provides you the opportunity to get absorbed in the process.

What a lovely way to meditate.

The Gift of Self-Care

^{(Title image: Photo by Ben White on Unsplash)}

I’m popping in here with a little reminder to practice self-care over the remainder of this holiday season and springboard that care into the new year.

“I have had no time for self-care with everything going on!”, you may protest, but then, what do you imagine self-care to be?

If you believe commercials, it’s drinking red wine in the bathtub, eating ice cream from the container, using a face mask and getting your nails done at a salon. All while chanting, “BECAUSE I’M WORTH IT!”

In general, anyone who is perpetuating that type of “self-care” is trying to sell you something.

Journaling is an effective form of self-care and doesn’t require an expensive journal or pen, no matter what someone tries to sell you.
(Photo by Sixteen Miles Out on Unsplash)

Here are less expensive options that I feel align more closely with the true meaning of self-care:
* pausing during the day to take a few mindful breaths;
* noticing where you are (“Right now, I am in the kitchen doing the dishes, feeling the warm water and slipperiness of the soap on my hands”) to help calm racing thoughts;
* making a decision to choose a more nourishing food, eating slowly, savoring each bite;
* decreasing/eliminating alcohol — substitute a drink that looks festive (sprig of rosemary or a skewered piece of fruit added to sparkling water);
* staying consistent with exercise, or if time is squeezed, sticking in extra movement whereever you can (like doing 5 squats every time you go to the bathroom or a short yoga session right before bed);
*practicing gratitude, and if that’s hard, just finding something to appreciate.

And of course, taking time for a brief meditation whenever you can.

I think you get the idea.

Holiday self-care is not about buying things. It’s not about practicing an Instagram or TikTok version of indulgence. There are no photos to post and you don’t need a manual for it to be beneficial.

It is taking a break to drop down out of your thoughts and into the present moment. Be kind to your body and mind, get enough sleep and exercise to make yourself feel good. And importantly: release expectations of what you think the holiday should look like, how people should act, what you should be able to accomplish, even how you should feel about it. Find appreciation for whatever is going well.

I wish you a peaceful, positive start to 2025!

Cancer Took the Magic Away, Mindfulness Brought It Back

^{(Title image: Photo by Ethan Hoover on Unsplash)}

And, no, I’m not talking about casting spells.

But I remember “life before cancer” and it felt different. There was a feeling that there was so much life left to live, so many plans still to execute.

I felt bulletproof. My own primary care doctor was impressed that I’d made it through so many years without ever having a major surgery (or any surgery, for that matter). I was looking foward to my future. My workouts were still tough and vigorous and I felt like I was going to age well.

Most importantly, life had a certain magic to it. It felt multidimensional and filled with possibilities, and even with the challenges that I’d had to face, I had hope that things would always get better.

Then I got hit by the locomotive that is cancer and everything ground to a halt. My world went gray and all those plans that I had for “the rest of my life” fell away as all my energy was focused on surviving the diagnosis, surviving chemo…and I didn’t see much past that.

For quite a while after diagnosis, I’d felt like I’d been tossed out by the side of the road.
(Photo by Sven Brandsma on Unsplash)

Emotionally, my life felt like a void. I was too afraid to even let hope in because of the fear of having it dashed to pieces.

It was like being out in the wilderness and calling for help but receiving none, not even an echo. Spiritually, it was the loneliest that I’d ever been.

I was no longer on the highway of life. I was sitting in the breakdown lane.

Forgive me if this sounds melodramatic. All my ‘anxiety chickens’ had come home to roost, so to speak. And I wasn’t handling it well.

I dragged myself around treatment like this…although about two weeks before my cancer surgery, I had started mindfulness meditation, encouraged by my radiation oncologist who suggested it as a non-pharmaceutical way of dealing with anxiety.

It was that little ‘peep’ of mindfulness that had I clung to, terrified, in the beginning, not really sure whether or not it was helping. But at least it was something warm at a point when I felt cold and abandoned.

I can honestly say that mindfulness and meditation were what gave me back the strength to persevere through tough times.
(Photo by Robin van Holst on Unsplash)

As time went on and I stubbornly refused to miss a day of meditation, that little break in the clouds became bigger. In this case, my obstinance was a blessing. Somewhere in the last almost-eight years, not even sure exactly when, something changed.

The fear and loneliness and bitterness crumbled away. Noticing how things were right now, how beautiful the world was when I chose to appreciate it, helped pull me out of the funk.

In our darkest moment we find our greatest strengths. I wish it weren’t like that, I wish there wasn’t a need to hit lowest lows in order to get the biggest spring back up. But I can say that if my life even before cancer had been easier, I would not have experienced the richness of existence as I do now.

Not everything is okay. In many ways, things are even harder and more frightening. But I can accept that and not feel bitter. My expectations have softened and I pause more often to ground myself, to notice that at this moment, I am safe.

And for this moment, I am at peace.

When Gratitude is Hard, Try Appreciation

^{(Title image: Photo by Amadeo Valar on Unsplash)}

After last week’s post about writing out your stressors, I wanted to follow up with something positive so that we’re not left thinking about all the rough stuff that we have to deal with.

And how better to do that than by counting your blessings? Ok, so I realize that sometimes it’s not so easy to get excited about a great cup of coffee or the fact that it’s almost Friday when you are drowning under a pile of bills or dreading the arrival of combatative relatives.

But part of a resistance to gratitude, at least as far as I’ve experienced it, is feeling that it’s forced. I’ve written a number of posts about this—seems like I hit on this topic at least once a year—and guess what? It’s time for this year’s version.

This week, I’m posting on the magic of gratitude again, but this time for the recalcitrant ‘gratituder’. Full disclosure: sometimes that’s me.

When gratitude doesn’t come easily then maybe we just need to reinterpret how we view gratitude and what it expects of us.

And that can be achieved by switching out the term “gratitude” with “appreciation”.

Appreciating the glorious scent of a bunch of lavender? Yep, that’s gratitude!
(Photo by Richárd Ecsedi on Unsplash)

That’s it. You don’t have to do anything else. Looking at a sunset? Just appreciate the beautiful colors—no need to “wallow in gratitude” about it. You have a cup of coffee? Just appreciate that you’ve got that cup of coffee warming your hands.

Sounds too simple? It is simple and that’s why I love this. Because thinking of it as appreciation rather than GRATITUDE takes some pressure off. All of a sudden, there is a whole world of things that we can appreciate without feeling like we need to crawl on our knees to be grateful for them.

And of course, the silly little truth about this is that appreciation IS gratitude. No matter what label you place on it, it gets us to the same place. It’s quite beautiful how suddenly we find that we can be appreciative, meaning we can be grateful for the little things in our lives without a need to force anything.

One of the posts I wrote about this included the realization that it can be the little things in life (for instance, being able to walk around pain-free after a tweaked muscle heals) that mean so much for our quality of life. And that is a very important thing indeed.

I encourage you to try it out this week: look around and see how many things you can genuinely appreciate, no gratitude required. 😉

(And yes, I’m making a list again.)

Making a List, Checking It Twice

^{(Title image: Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash)}

I have been stressed lately, which is a bummer because this year I really wanted to relax and enjoy the holiday season. But once again, it seems like the year has some zingers left for the final months of 2024.

Instead of writing about them in a post, I decided to write them down…and I was surprised by how many stressors had built up.

I made my list carefully, organizing it by time periods: first, I wrote down the things that had been nagging me all year or longer. Stuff like constant increases in rent and cost-of-living. These were exerting continuous pressure on my well-being.

“Dear Santa, please don’t bring me any more stress. I’m good for this year.”
(Photo by Mike Arney on Unsplash)

Second, I wrote down things that seemed to have happened in the second half of the year and had a large impact, like my father’s death and experiencing frequent visual migraine auras.

Third, I got more granular and wrote about the things I was experiencing on a daily basis. Like feeling that my words were misunderstood or having to go through the rigamarole of tracking down a package that hadn’t arrived—these are things that work themselves out in a relatively short period of time but are stressful in the moment.

Why bother listing all this? Because it helps sort things out. I get perspective on exactly what’s going on in my life. Without that, it’s like someone throwing a huge blanket over you—suddenly it’s dark and you feel smothered. And that feeling of overwhelm elicits a lot of anxiety.

And once I had started the lists, I considered how I was reacting to these stressors. For example, since my father’s death I had not given myself the opportunity to grieve, not even during the funeral. There were so many other concerns that it didn’t seem like it was “the right time”.

So over the last two weeks, I gave myself the space to cry. If I hadn’t stopped to consider what was actually going on, I might have tried to soldier on and pushed away how much it hurt. I had been affected by not only his loss, but also by how his gentle nature meant he didn’t push back against forces that led him to forsake his own passions, and knowing that compounded my pain.

Ah, here comes that word again: PERSPECTIVE. You really don’t get the whole view until you step back and quietly observe.
(Photo by Brigitta Schneiter on Unsplash)

But the reactions don’t have to be as heavy as that. I also noticed that I had been doing a lot of sighing this year, something that is associated with stress and anxiety. Even my body was trying to tell me to take a break.

Writing out the lists gave me a chance to acknowledge what I was already feeling, and pushed me to evaluate whether what I was doing to relieve my stress levels was effective enough for what was going on.

It’s important to note that the purpose of writing up these lists is not to wallow in misery! Everyone has stress of some kind and I’m not unique in that, nor am I trying to make this a bigger thing than it is.

The fact is, some stressors happen to me and some I impose upon myself (unrealistic expectations, perhaps?). It is only when I am able to review them that I can determine which is which, and then take appropriate measures to alleviate whatever pressures I can.