Category: Practical Stuff

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.

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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?

Getting Deep: Harvard’s Meditation Research Program

(Title image: Photo by TONG KBP on Unsplash)

I was delighted to learn that there is a Meditation Research Program at Mass General Hospital, associated with Harvard Medical School. I’m sharing the link to their research in this post because it seems pretty amazing

The program is run by Dr. Matthew Sacchet, an Associate Professor in Psychiatry at Harvard Medical School. Recall that Dr. Jon Kabat-Zinn, at the UMass Medical School, brought mindfulness to the clinical mainstream with his Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) program, which initially was designed to help patients deal with the pain and stress of illness. At Harvard/Mass General, Sacchet takes this work further by focusing on a scientific study of advanced meditative states.

My meditation takes place in informal spaces.
(Photo by bahareh moradian on Unsplash)

So, just to be clear: I am a simple meditator, with a focus on mindfulness. I revel in the grounding that it gives me when life gets stressful. It offers a sense of confidence that I can, in fact, handle the stuff that comes my way as long as I allow it to, something that hasn’t always been the case. Meditation has given me a self-awareness that slows down the world around me and makes things feel less out-of-control.

However, after almost a decade of meditation, I would not call myself an “advanced” meditator. And, yes, I’m anal enough to have never skipped a day, which, it could be argued, kind of misses the point of mindfulness. I am confident in my abilities to sit quietly but possibly need to lighten up about giving myself the grace to miss a session (trust me, I won’t).

Still, I love being able to sit in my room and feel a connection to all the other human beings around the world who are meditating at the same time. I am also acutely interested in the way that deeper states of meditation can positively affect us.

But I’m no meditating monk; my average day’s meditation generally ranges from about 10 minutes to an hour and a half, max.

On the other hand, Dr. Sacchet is studying ‘master meditators’, such as the monks in question, in an effort to explore advanced meditation, which he defines as (from the program website) “deeper engagement with meditative practices that with time and mastery, produce refined states of mind and awareness…bliss states, insights into the mind, altruistic/compassionate mindsets and ultimately, enduring transformation.“

That’s quite an impressive list. At a time when I’m clawing my way back to longer meditation sessions after a stressful year of struggling with intrusive brain noise, this provides motivation to stay on the cushion for a little longer.

Interested in more?

Here’s a link to a short quiz that appeared in the Harvard Gazette that might surprise you about what researchers like Dr. Sacchet are learning about meditation.

Below is more about Dr. Sacchet and his work from MGH Psychiatry News:

Matthew Sacchet, PhD: Advanced Meditation Alters Consciousness and Our Basic Sense of Self (Scientific American)

And here’s the link to the Scientific American article that the above site references:
https://www.scientificamerican.com/article/advanced-meditation-alters-consciousness-and-our-basic-sense-of-self/

Sweatin’ for Myokines [RESEARCH]

(Title image: Photo by Annemiek Smegen on Unsplash)

Following up on my “Exercise and Cancer Cells” post from September 2025, here is another paper by the same authors that was published this month that offers more evidence about the importance of exercise for cancer survivors.

This study by Bettariga et al. (2026, Med Sci Sports Exer) investigated what effect different types of exercise would have on the production of myokines in breast cancer survivors. Why myokines? Because myokines are chemicals released during a muscular contraction. Once in the bloodstream they have various effects on the human body, but the most important for our discussion is that some myokines have been shown to decrease the growth of cancer cells, although the mechanism by which they do that is still unclear.

The study participants, all breast cancer survivors, were assigned to either strength (resistance) training or HIIT groups.
(Photo by Robert Stump on Unsplash)

This study compared resistance training against high-intensity interval training, or HIIT. For twelve weeks, twenty-eight breast cancer survivors engaged in either resistance training or HIIT, three days per week. Exercise was performed at moderate-to-high levels of intensity, which means that the participants were challenged by the activities.

At the end of the twelve weeks, regardless of which exercise group the subjects were in, the cancer-busting myokines circulating in their bloodstreams had increased by as much as 15%; both resistance training and HIIT were equally effective. Furthermore, when serum taken from the study participants was applied to metastatic (in this case, triple-negative) cancer cells in the lab, there was a 22-25% reduction in the growth of the cells.

These are excellent results. While the study group (28 participants) was quite small and additional research with a larger set of subjects should be done, the effect of exercise was striking.

As mentioned above, the exercise was medium-to-high intensity. What exactly this means for each individual will vary, as intensity is specific to the exerciser and depends a lot on their current fitness levels. For this study, none of the participants had exercised in the previous three months, so they weren’t gym rats to start out with. Their results were still significant.

Everyone has different abilities. Begin at your own starting point and take it from there.
(Photo by LOGAN WEAVER | @LGNWVR on Unsplash)

As I’ve said in previous posts, being diagnosed with cancer leaves you feeling out of control and powerless about your own body. It can feel like things are happening to you and there’s little you can do about it. This is one way that you can effect a positive change and improve your chances of recurrence-free survival, and it is something over which you have control.

The take-home message? There is a constantly-expanding body of scientific literature that supports maintaining as high a level of physical activity as you personally can, while still respecting the limitations that your body may have. Start slowly, increase intensity gradually, keep going…and don’t ever stop.

REFERENCES

Reader-Friendly Article:
Bettariga F (January 6, 2026) “How Exercise May Suppress Cancer Growth.” Active Voice|ACSM. https://acsm.org/active-voice-how-exercise-may-suppress-cancer-growth/

Research Study:
Full publication (Abstract available without journal access)
Bettariga F, Taaffe DR, Crespo-Garcia C, Clay TD, De Santi M, Baldelli G, Adhikari S, Gray ES, Galvão DA, Newton RU (2026) Effects of Resistance versus High-Intensity Interval Training on Myokines and Cancer Cell Suppression in Breast Cancer Survivors: A Randomized Trial. Med Sci Sports Exer, 58, 1-9.
https://journals.lww.com/acsm-msse/abstract/2026/01000/effects_of_resistance_versus_high_intensity.1.aspx
PubMed Listing
https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/40903011/

It’s 2026 and We’re Safe

(Title image: Photo by BoliviaInteligente on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Artem Beliaikin on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Merri J on Unsplash)

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?

(Title image: Photo by Anthony Tran on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Al Elmes on Unsplash)

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?
(Photo by Joshua Earle on Unsplash)

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?