NCI’s “Cancer Currents” Resurfaces?

(Title image: Photo by National Cancer Institute on Unsplash)

If you’ve read my posts about cancer research findings, you might have noticed that some of them appear in a National Cancer Institute (NCI) newsletter/blog called “Cancer Currents“.

I had subscribed to their emails some years ago because I felt that the research they wrote about was highly relevant and useful to cancer survivors.

All was good, until suddenly last year I noticed that I had stopped receiving emails from them. I went to their website and found that the final “Cancer Currents” blog entry was posted on May 14, 2025.

This was a huge loss, not only for me but also for anyone searching for a reader-friendly version of critical cancer research.

Well, I am delighted to report that the blog posts have returned, to some extent, as of May 4, 2026. As a result, I have resubscribed. Unfortunately, the posts to date have been limited to one a month and seem to be more marketing-oriented in nature, rather than used disseminating information about specific ground-breaking studies.

Several of these posts are NCI Director Dr. Anthony Letai’s reflections. Ok, fine. But I find it disappointing that the NCI is broadcasting “reflections” that sound like someone justifying his position, like a CEO giving an annual report, when they could be highlighting details about current research, particularly at a time when the public’s trust in scientific research has become politically polarized.

I also found it troubling that, for example, the post about the ASCO Meeting (June 16, 2026, by Anthony Letai, M.D., Ph.D.) mentioned some breakthroughs but provided no links to the research. Or in another post about advances in cancer treatment (July 21, 2026, by Linda Wang), the links provided were for older research.

Well, ok, it’s great to learn the “story” of immune checkpoint inhibitors as in Linda’s post, but for many of us, waiting to hear news of current progress, it feels like lip service.

While only one “Cancer Currents” post is coming out a month, I can assure you that the research that has provided valuable fodder for NCI writers in the past still continues. My husband works in one of these cancer research centers so I’m well-acquainted with what has been going in. In some cases, delays in funding have resulted in work slow-downs and even lab shut-downs. For those who remain, it would be useful to showcase the incredible work that they are doing. Not just give a blurb about the general idea of what NCI is focusing on.

This is a pity. I am still willing to give the new “Cancer Currents” the benefit of the doubt. It would be great to have the excellent posts by qualified science writers return, and with greater frequency.

NCI, if you’ve decimated your public outreach department in the dubious name of restructuring, I encourage you to reconsider your motives and bring back the people who write articles that bring us hope.

Dancing with Distractions

(Title image: Photo by Anuj Yadav on Unsplash)

Lately, I’ve been at odds with my attention. While I used to sit and meditate quietly, I am going through a period where I’m getting frustrated by stillness and crave movement while being mindful.

So because I don’t have patience to sit still today, I am going to toss this little meditation tool into my blog. Hope it helps!

This is what I do when I’m fighting distractions and feel like I’m losing. Instead of giving up on meditating, I give myself some slack.

First, the pause. I bring attention to myself, noticing what it feels like to be a body, whether sitting, standing or lying down. No matter where I am and what’s going on around me. What is the sensation of having a human skeleton with human muscles and organs and blood pumping through everything?

Next, I reach out and find my breath. There it is, in the center of my chest. What are the sensations that I feel when I inhale and exhale?

And I stay there with my breathing. For as long as I can.

Lately that hasn’t been very long. And before I know it, my attention has gotten stuck on some distraction and been pulled away. Maybe a sound, another sensation, even a wayward thought. No problem. I give the interloper an audience and then gently swing back to the breath.

Swinging between distrac– oh, I can see my house from up here!!!
(Photo by Jasmin Chew on Unsplash)

And again, I stay there until inevitably my attention gets tangled up in something else and swings away, towards the enticing distraction. And once again, I realize I’m elsewhere and note what that feels like, and then swing my attention back to what’s going on with my breath.

It helps to understand what it is about that distraction that made it so alluring, kind of like allowing myself to get a fill of it before moving away and sweeping back to the breath.

This is the way that it goes, like a dance. A waltz of sorts. I try to keep the movement smooth, without irritation or judgement. This is just how it is. Befriending my wandering, waltzing mind makes the entire meditation process calmer and more soothing.

It doesn’t matter if I’m sitting on a meditation cushion or mindfully walking home from the trolley station, this method works in all situations. Making peace with my propensity to follow distractions means that I’m free of one more distraction: that nagging feeling that “this isn’t working”.

Give this a try and see if it resonates with you. Then let me know!

Now You See Me, Now You Don’t

Lately there have been a lot of ups and downs in my life. Certainly, this isn’t very different from what usually happens, as my life is rarely predictable.

However, the difference has been for me in how I have been reacting. Some of the “downs”: my mind is more jumbled and focusing is harder. Sleep is disrupted, which is never a good thing, and I’ve been waking earlier, unable to fall back asleep.

On the other hand, there are pleasant “ups” too. My workouts have been stronger and recovery time has shortened. I’m making noticible fitness progress at a time when I thought losing strength was my new reality. And I’ve experienced a renewed interest in intimacy, something I didn’t expect to happen, even in the midst of the whirlwind of uncertainties.

So the pendulum swings have felt wider. The good news is that I come back to center…but the bad news is that I usually don’t stay there.

The way I have started dealing with this is kind of funny. Instead of forcing myself to sit in meditation for longer, something that feels like wrestling eels, I have been practicing releasing expectations of what meditation should look like.

Lately, I have been making myself transparent.

Quietly fading and receding, allowing all my worries to pass me by.
(Photo by Nick Page on Unsplash)

Instead of grounding myself, I allow things to keep moving. I’m not anchored in the earth. I am floating above the tumult. I’m working towards a neutrality to stimuli. My edges are smooth, troubling thoughts don’t take hold, they simply slide off me and around me.

And then, I fade. Deep breaths help move strong emotions through me, not getting stuck along the way. Just passing by as my form becomes invisible.

This is a relief.

There is relatively little effort in this process, which is part of the point. Letting go lightens me. And that’s when I realize that holding on to all the stressors takes more energy and work than releasing them.

Just as they approach me, so they move through me and out.

It takes a little bit to get used to the rhythm: breathing through it and and feeling lighter. Not allowing the irritation, frustration, fear to take root but watching calmly as they fly by, as if ignoring me and looking for another victim.

Eventually I’ll get back on the cushion and root myself again, but not now. At this moment, I appreciate the freedom to float above the fray and quietly fade from sight. At least out of the view of my worries.

Make Stress Your Friend

(Title image: Photo by Mina Rad on Unsplash)

Stress…is not my favorite thing. In fact, when it results in anxiety it is absolutely horrible.

But what if you were to take a stressful episode and view it as an alert to interrupt the cascade of reactions that you are in the middle of.

Instead of allowing stress to take on the runaway locomotive feel, it would serve as a time-out flag, a warning of sorts that right *now* is the time to take a short break, reshift your focus, resettle your body and release some tension.

In order for this to be more effective, it helps to actually notice the stress building. That can be a task in itself as we can get swept up and carried away with intense feelings and not realize what’s happened until we’re in the middle of it. But no matter, wherever you are when you become aware that you are in desperate need of a calming break, just take it.

You can re-wire your brain to de-fang stress.
(Photo by John Barkiple on Unsplash)

If you know that the effect that stress has on you is unsettling, don’t tell yourself you don’t have time. Don’t say that you’ll do it later. Don’t try to convince yourself that what your body is telling you is “not that bad” and that you can “work through it”. Just do it.

Use that opportunity as a reward to immediately focus on your hands or feet, notice where they are at that moment and then take a deep breath with an extended exhale. Maybe you have time for only one breath, that’s okay. Focus on it as if it’s the only thing in the world. This doesn’t have to be a ten-minute meditation session. It’s just a break from the craziness of the day to show your frazzled nerves some much-needed love.

Looking at stress this way takes the teeth out of the effects that it has on you. Yes, it may take a while to re-learn your reaction to the heart-pounding and stomach-churning, and while the relief might not be 100%, it’s definitely an improvement.

The best thing is, the more often that you do it, the more you will re-wire your brain to accept stress merely as a signal that your nervous system is asking you to help it release some steam, and not anything scarier than that.

Being Where You Are Now

(Title image: Photo by Shantanu Kulkarni on Unsplash)

Following up on last week’s post where I wrote about the gradual effects of practicing mindfulness and meditation, I wanted to briefly focus on one aspect of this.

It has to do with the process of insulating yourself from situational stressors and the anxiety that accompanies them. These types of stressors have plagued me for a large part of my life.

I’m talking about dealing with, say, bad news that could affect my future. It used to be that an uneasy feeing would overtake me, starting in my gut. Nausea was the most prominent symptom and it would wash over me, with anxiety bulding a nest in my head. From there, my brain would promptly resuscitate the anxiety if it started to fade, like some maniacal defibrillator.

Feeling better? Too bad, time for another jolt of anxiety!
(Photo by César Badilla Miranda on Unsplash)

It was an uncomfortably electric feeling, like getting zapped over and over again.

Now, it’s a little different, and it has to do with the practice I’ve had staying present. Yes, I experience the initial jolt of anxiety, as one would expect. But as the day passes, the absolute intensity of these feelings fades more quickly. And they’re less likely to recur as strongly.

Focusing on the present moment means that your thoughts stay here. And in doing so, it’s easier to compartmentalize the feelings, keeping them further away from your face. They are still around—we are not going to make them suddenly disappear—but they are manageable and somewhat muted.

This presence in the now helps you realize that where you are in this very moment is safe. This one point in time keeps you up and out of potential future and past fears that you might otherwise get lost in. You can perch on this point like you would on the head of a pin (admittedly, this might take some imagination). And so you can hop, moment to moment, noting that things are still okay.

Again, those worries continue to circulate in the background, but they are there and not here now. And all of this gives you space to breathe.

Staying in the present is like perching on the head of a pin, a single moment in time.
(Photo by Sarah Dao on Unsplash)

Interestingly enough, one suggestion for people who are habitual ruminators is setting aside about 10 minutes every day for “worry time”. This is time that you allow yourself to go through all the concerns that you have with the understanding that once your time is up, you set aside the worries until the next day’s session.

I have personally never tried it as I’m not sure it would work with my tendencies, but it is considered an effective strategy for many.

For now, I am consistently returning to the present and compartmentalizing effectively, even bringing in some soothing stories when I need a more dramatic focus shift. Of course, this is not meant to “fool” me into thinking everything is peachy. I’m simply allowing the space I need to keep anxious thoughts from taking over.

“Worth the Wait”: Fruits of Mindfulness

(Title image: Photo by Ante Hamersmit on Unsplash)

No matter how long you’ve been practicing meditation, there generally comes a time when you begin to question whether it’s actually doing anything.

For me, it was when I was going through cancer treatment. Granted, I had only started meditating following my diagnosis, but even knowing that it wasn’t like a pill you took to calm yourself, I was kind of expecting “something”.

And I did get “something”, usually with breathwork, which was more distracting myself than anything else, but also tapping ever-so-slightly into the relaxation response.

Take a breath and notice how it feels to breathe. Then take another one. Notice. And keep going like that.
(Photo by Nick Fewings on Unsplash)

But the rest of the stuff? Where you focus on sensations in your body? I don’t think it really clicked for me at that time.

It wasn’t until later. And exactly how much “later” it was, I don’t know. Probably long enough that it would be hard to get someone enthusiastic about beginning a meditation practice. To really feel something definite about how my body was reacting differently? Yeah, I would say years of daily meditation. That’s not a great selling point although it does drive home the importance in consistency in practice.

But fast forward to somewhere around now. Over nine years of meditation, some days very calm and focused, other days, well, kind of a struggle to rein in my thoughts. There are a lot of stressors these days, some going as far as disrupting our hopes for the future.

Oh, that uncomfortable “WHOOSH”…that drags you away from the present.
(Photo by Daniel Dan on Unsplash)

If you’ve dealt with anxiety yourself, you may be familiar with that “whoooosh” feeling in your head, when a wave of anxiety hits you. In addition to a chill in my gut, I feel a disconnectedness, like my brain is trying to protect me by taking me out of the situation. I don’t know what to say because I’m not thinking clearly.

Recently, it hit me, however, that I don’t have that experience anymore. As a matter of fact, during a recent heavy conversation that I had been dreading, in the midst of it, I felt remarkably grounded. My words were there and accessible. My sentences were clear and meaningful. I was processing the information in real time. Not rushed, not taken by the wind.

Sure, it was stressful. I was worried about how things would turn out. But the panicky out-of-control feeling was no longer there.

I have no idea when everything changed, but likely it was bit by bit, over the weeks and months and years of practicing breathing through everything.

Experience showed me that even the worst situations can have positive outcomes. Perspective matters.

So, if you’ve ever questioned whether setting time aside every day for quiet contemplation was worth it, I can assure you, yes, it is. It might not be apparent outwardly, but be confident that behind the scenes, things are changing for the better.

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.

Tell Me a Story: Suppressing Anxious Thoughts

(Title image: Photo by Jonas Jacobsson on Unsplash)

Nine years ago this month when I found out that I had breast cancer, the news hit me hard and felt so raw that I had nowhere to seek emotional shelter. The information was so in-my-face. There was no way to escape it, no way to “un-know” it.

While there were things I needed to deal with immediately, the sense of dread was overwhelming at times and I wished I could push it away. Even after going through surgery, chemo, radiation, there was a constant foreboding that lingered, a trauma that continued to terrify as I learned to deal with the uncertainty of the future. The anxiety was worst in the early morning hours.

At that point, I couldn’t even repress the feelings I was having, they were so strong. Mindfulness taught that I should allow all the feelings to pass through me. I struggled with that but kept at it. After all, I thought, isn’t that sort of suppression cautioned against, with the concern that feelings and thoughts that were pushed away would resurface in some other detrimental way?

That belief has been challenged by research on the experiences of those affected by the November 2015 terrorist attacks in Paris. Tracking survivors using MRI technology and psychological assessments, the researchers discovered that part of recovery from such a traumatic experience included the ability to suppress intrusive thoughts. The memories can still be accessed but do not overwhelm the patient, easing the burden of PTSD. (A National Public Radio story on the event and research is available here.)

My solution to intrusive thoughts is to create a story-based “safe space”.
(Photo by Kourosh Qaffari on Unsplash)

I found this reassuring. Part of the way that I have dealt with stressful situations that might have otherwise overwhelmed me is by creating mental distance between them and myself. While I have found meditation to be ideal, of course, sitting and allowing all the feelings to pass through me at a time that those feelings might still be very intense is not, for me, a winning strategy.

I have had success, however, in creating a story-like safe space for myself to retreat into, as if I’m writing a novel complete with a variety of characters. The theme is pleasant, perhaps romantic, even humorous. The scenes that play out are of my own choosing and if I find myself shifting into something more “realistic” (i.e., stress-inducing) I remember that this is my creation and that the story can be whatever I want it to be.

It doesn’t have to reflect real life. It can be as improbable as I want. This is one place where I have complete autonomy in determining what movie plays out in front of me.

This serves as a needed break from my stressors. Technically, I am not “repressing” anxious thoughts, I am dealing with them in the same way that someone might read a delightful story before bedtime, except that I decide what the story is about. And if I wake in the middle of the night, I can sink back into my self-spun tale, knowing that when I need to deal with all the tough stuff in my life, it’ll be there waiting for me.

But not right now.

A Trolley Meditation

(Photo by miguel pela-yo_ou_voce on Unsplash)

To be clear, this doesn’t have to be a mediation specifically for a trolley ride. It would work on a train, bus, car or any other moving vehicle. I take the trolley regularly and love how meditative the ride can be, so that’s where I use it.

While I work remotely for the majority of the week, some days I commute to my office, now further away due to our recent move. I get a ride in, but coming home means an hour on trolleys in addition to a long walk from the station.

At the time that I leave for home, the afternoon commute is in full swing. I often don’t get a seat on the first leg of my trip, so I stand, holding on to the bars interspersed throughout the car.

My height gives me a good view of the window. Now, if I allow my gaze to fuzz a bit, staring straight out into the distance, the passing landscape becomes a blur.

But this view can also serve as a beautiful way to drop into the ‘here and now’, and also train yourself to let go of the past. As the landscape passes before me, I mentally drop a “plumb line” into it, fixing my gaze every second or so on an object in the passing view, so that for a blink of an eye, my focus is maintained and follows it. Then I let it go, dropping another imaginary plumb, and I fix my gaze onto another spot on the fleeting landscape, again staying with it for about a second before releasing it and focusing on yet another point.

In the blur of constant movement, focus on the present moment.
(Photo by hannah cauhepe on Unsplash)

If the scenery very close to the trolley moves too quickly and I tire of the rapid changes, I can cast my gaze a little further away from the trolley where things are passing less frenetically.

Sometimes I switch between points closer by and those further away.

The idea is to allow yourself to let go of the point that you’re looking at, to not get captured by it. The moving vehicle, certainly, prevents that from happening to a great extent, but we also train ourselves to break the gaze and move on.

Why Is This Important?

Imagine that your day is like this: lots of stress, perhaps a lot of work, frustrating interactions with others, so much brain clutter. Can you take a big step back to observe the flow of life, understanding that annoyances comes and go, allowing them to pass by? Just as on the moving vehicle, everything passes and new views appear, so do our emotions and situations. This simple practice reminds us that when times are difficult, we can find solance in knowing that it won’t be forever.

I love this meditation. It combines a return to the present moment with letting go and moving on. What could be better?