Tag: Meditation

The More Things Stay the Same, the More They Change

(Title image: Photo by Edward Howell on Unsplash)

Maybe it’s time to talk about impermanence.

This is something that I have to remind myself constantly: just because things are a certain way now, no matter how set-in-stone they appear, there’s a high likelihood they will change.

I wish more people understood this. I’m old enough to have experienced a litany of changes in my life, some of which completely blindsided me, like cancer, for example. I was not expecting my entire life to get flipped on its back by one little lump and a subsequent scan. And yet, here we are.

That diagnosis brought a whirlwind of changes as I was assaulted with more medications and procedures that I had ever imagined possible in my life. And they came at me fast, one after the other. Recovering from surgery, dealing with chemo side effects, tearing through loaded weeks of radiation…and then, several years of endocrine therapy, which in retrospect threw me into what felt like the longest-lasting changes.

Those, I consider negatives. I tried to maintain my “normal” through them all, which meant consistency with my workouts and nutrition, just so that I didn’t lose myself in the mess of it. It felt like I was barely holding on with my fingernails.

Just when I thought this was the way it would be from now on, the light broke through.
(Photo by Sharon Co Images on Unsplash)

But…there was a flipside to this. Another change that I didn’t expect, but was actually quite positive: the realization that establishing effective coping strategies like meditation and maintaining existing healthy behaviors were the keys to eventually getting a handle on the negatives.

So everything bad that I thought I was stuck with—decreasing strength and endurance, low libido, thinning hair—all those things that we associate with old age and the relentless march of time gradually started turning around.

Again, impermanence smacked me on the back of my head.

So, there’s a lot I can write about this. I added creatine to my diet and over time it has had a significant impact on my workouts, in particular my strength. After years of watching my “gains” decrease, I could confirm that I was building strength up again at age 60.

My hair, which had been falling out, slowed that regression. Springing for better quality hair products helped, but so did moving to a quieter, updated apartment. The reduction of environmental stress, even in the presence of existing stressors of work and finances, had a dramatic effect. On top of that, becoming aware of the cyclical nature of my hair loss relieved anxiety about it. As did bucking the trend of “embracing” my gray (in my case, white) and instead welcoming light blonde back into my life.

But one of the most striking changes was the return of my libido. This is so delicate and important a topic because I am convinced that many cancer survivors-slash-postmenopausal women suffer in silence about loss of libido, no doubt due to the potentially embarrassing nature of the issue. Many of us were raised to not talk about such sensitive topics, and particularly not with male oncologists.

And all the hype about hormone replacement therapy for postmenopausal women…ah, but breast cancer survivors get locked out of all the positives associated with that…

The topic of libido deserves a post of its own. I will indulge this in the future. Suffice it to say, for me it was one of the changes that had the greatest effect on the current trajectory of my life because it was the one that (I had read? I had been told?) was irreversable and expected and I should just shut up and deal with it.

I thought this was the way it was going to be from now on. And I was afraid of the effect that it would have on my marriage.

Ah, but that beautiful concept of impermanence reminded me that I should never settle into expectations based on what came before me or what happens to others, because everyone has their own individual set of conditions. What a lovely awakening to the rest of my life!

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.

“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.

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/

Advent 2025: Expectation vs. Reality

(Title image: Photo by Dayne Topkin on Unsplash)

Or, “if at first you don’t succeed…”

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

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

Hmmm, this did not go according to plan.
(Photo by Alan Rodriguez on Unsplash)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Breast Cancer: Know When to Say When

(Title image: Photo by Marius Serban on Unsplash)

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

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

Something, perhaps, like chemotherapy.

Who needs some love? You do.
(Photo by Mayur Gala on Unsplash)

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

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

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

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

Remembering to Do Nothing

(Title image: Photo by Ken Cheung on Unsplash)

I remembered something last night about mindfulness meditation that I’d realized I had somehow forgotten.

I don’t have to do anything when I meditate.

Not strain, nor grip, nor furrow my brow.

The only thing I need to do when I meditate is to exist, and to be aware that I am existing.

I was thankful that I remembered this because I’d been struggling with the concept of sitting and being present for the past few months. I had slipped into the belief that I needed to work at it.

But last night I asked myself, “What would it feel like if I didn’t try so hard? Or at all?”

Simply exist.
(Photo by Jeppe H. Jensen on Unsplash)

If you’ve practiced mindfulness meditation, you know that the guidance is simple and straightforward.

It goes something like this:

“Sit comfortably with a tall spine, alert but relaxed. Take a few deep breaths, stretching upward on the inhale and settling down on the exhale. Soften the muscles of your body starting from your face, moving down the neck, shoulders, torso, arms to the fingers, hips and seat, down the legs to your toes. Then allow your awareness to settle onto a focal point like the breath, tingling in the hands, the hum of an appliance or sounds of traffic in the distance.”

Does that sound familiar? There are of course numerous variations of this. You select an anchor to come back to whenever you realize that you’ve drifted away from the present moment and into the thoughts in your head.

And that’s it. It’s quite basic and yet we find ways to complicate it and make it a strenuous exercise.

You don’t necessarily have to sit, you can lie down or even stand if that works for you (or you’re practicing while queuing up for something).

There are no rules for mindfulness meditation. Yes, there are principles and/or steps to take, but no real way to do it “wrong”. The only thing that would be considered “incorrect meditation” would be going to meditate, but then spending all that time doing something else.

Last night, when I remembered that my meditation didn’t have to be a certain way and all I needed to do was simply to be and to be aware of myself being, it felt like a release. The last year has been difficult and there have been tough things that I have been required to do.

This felt like a gift, that I could rest and think, “Oh, yeah…I don’t have to do anything.” And I was so grateful for that moment.

Why do I make these things so much harder than they should be?

Naptime with Animal Friends: A Calming Visualization

(Title image: Photo by Kristin Lyse on Unsplash)

I recently came up with a fun visualization for calming myself that I wanted to share with you. It’s ideal if you love animals.

The concept is quite simple. Imagine yourself in a comfortable place outdoors with an environment that is what you like best. As an example, for me, it’s a warm-ish spring or summer day and I’m sitting under an arbor covered in wisteria or another flowering vine with leaves just dense enough to allow dappled light through.

Create a detailed, colorful picture of your perfect place in your mind. And then…start settling. Bringing attention to your body, imagine what it would feel like to be there. As your breath slows, the calmness you generate travels outward and attracts friendly animals to you.

You are the Pied Piper of imaginary animals.
(Photo by Dmitry on Unsplash)

Perhaps a colorful bird alights on your shoulder or next to you. A bunny hops over and snuggles next to you. Or maybe you attract a group of sleepy cats that come, purring, and rub their faces against you before stretching out beside you and perhaps in your lap.

The animals can be whatever you desire. Maybe it’s a family of platypuses? Or perhaps you’re sitting by a natural pool, feet in the water, and koi are languidly swimming around you. Sometimes, I imagine something potentially frightening and powerful like a tiger appearing, then nuzzling my hair before he rolls onto the ground to snooze, pressed up to me.

It doesn’t have to be realistic. It just has to make you feel good. There are no rules.

All animals relax around you as long as you stay relaxed around them.
(Photo by Sandra Vasilenko on Unsplash)

The richer and more vibrant the picture, the more easily you will settle. As you develop the image in your mind, watching the butterflies circle around your head or feel the weight of the wolf’s head as she lays it on your shoulder, you nurture a sense of calm. These animals are attracted to you because you are what soothes them.

And the reason that you soothe them is because you have calmed yourself. Being calm, and tranferring that feeling to others, is your superpower.

If you lose focus and your mind drifts into worry or to-do lists, the animals will scatter, so you have to notice what’s happening and resume the visualization to show them that it’s safe to return. Allow a warm breeze against your skin or the cooing of mourning doves to transition you back to this calm space.

Understand that you have this ability to generate a sense of well-being, in yourself and others. You might not always be aware of it in the middle of a busy day…but it is there. Close your eyes, feel into your feet and call your favorite furry, feathered or scaly friend to you for a snuggle.

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If you’d rather not imagine animals, you can make flowers bloom or young children smile and nod off (which might be very satisfying if you are a preschool teacher!).