Mindfulness – Page 3 – Frantic Shanti

The Gift of Self-Care

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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.
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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

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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.
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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.
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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

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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.)

Staying Calm is the Best Revenge

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Yes, revenge is not a nice word. But if you’re having “that kind of a day” it just might offer you the kick in the pants that you need.

Here’s an example: last week was hectic for me. There were additional work demands on top of which popped up all sorts of fires that I needed to put out. Things were not going smoothly, I missed out on exercise, wasn’t sleeping well, got a letter of rent increase, had an upset stomach—all of which were dragging me into a funk.

With all the negative things coming at me, I lost my emotional footing.

So…I decided to take revenge on the bad news, work emergencies and everything else.

And I was going to do it by not letting it affect me. I even wrote “revenge” on a sticky note and put it up on my computer monitor (NOT at work! At home, where it’s easier to explain myself).

Just say “NO” to allowing the negatives in life to run you ragged. You show ’em!
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Like I mentioned at the top of the post, revenge brings with it all sorts of negative connotations. It’s kind of like giving in to the “dark side” and using your anger, frustration, despair and whatnot to overcome you. I’m NOT advocating for that.

But there is a certain fire and focus that the concept of revenge embodies…yes, we can call it passion, but I’m not in the mood for that. So I’ll stick with simple revenge with the understanding that sometimes, little rebels that we are, we will do exactly the opposite of what the situations are drawing out of us. Just because.

Freak out? No, you bully, watch me remain calm. Heart starts racing? No no no, I soothe myself with deep breaths and extended exhales. Scary thoughts fluttering wildly in my head? Nope, I bring my attention down to my feet and seat, settling down into where I am now.

No temporary wrinkles are going to ruffle me. And I know that all these things are TEMPORARY. This might be fierce defiance that I’m dipping into, like a recalcitrant toddler, but if it works, it works.

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This is probably not what the great teachers of mindfulness had in mind…but, ehh, today I’m not playing nice.

“Lightening Up”: A Breathing Visualization

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Since I’ve found my stress levels higher this year, I’ve been playing with ways to quickly calm myself down.

Here’s one that I’ve been using lately. It’s very simple and involves a basic visualization, but has also been effective in grounding me fast.

And it goes like this…

Sit comfortably on a stable seat with a dignified upright posture, not too rigid, not too loose. Close the eyes or, if you prefer, soften your gaze with eyes cast downwards.

Then start slowing your breath, deepening your inhale and extending your exhale. Not focusing on a particular part of the breath cycle, but more on your entire body, noticing it rock with the breath, feeling it settle with every exhale.

Every inhale gives you a lift.
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As this becomes comfortable, start visualizing the expansion and contraction of your body, as if the breath were a hollowing out of your insides. Imagine that inside you there is a space like a balloon. And the inhale is an inflation of the balloon, with the exhale a gentle relaxation of that stretch.

No need to imagine specifics about the balloon, what’s important is to notice the stretch and an opening inside as the air flows in, the expansion releasing muscles that might be tight from stress. And then, as the air flows out, notice the softening and relaxation of the body.

As you continue the inhale and exhale, feel the lightening of the body as it expands, followed by the gentle sinking as it contracts. See if you can notice yourself lift off as you breathe in, as if you were filling up with helium. But then settle into your seat as you breath out.

Continue like this, noticing yourself get progressively lighter, so that when you settle with the exhales, you still maintain some bouyancy.

This type of breathing meditation helps me “lighten up” when I feel overwhelmed, like I’m getting crushed by whatever the stressor is. Putting focus on the body keeps me out of my head and the deep breaths are soothing.

Hope this helps you too!

Rappeling Down through the Strata: A Grounding Exercise

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It’s been a very weird few weeks for me. My stress levels have been climbing, and while I can kind of, sort of point to certain anxiety-provoking events that might be responsible…there’s nothing truly significant that would elicit this type of response.

Regardless, I’ve been spending more time in the “higher strata” of myself, and I don’t mean this in a good sense. Another way of putting it is that I’m all up in my own head, bouncing around and being pummeled by all sorts of thoughts, expectations, fears, unreasonable beliefs and the like.

Oooo, there I am, stuck in my own head.
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Usually I know when this is happening, but this time I was too preoccupied with the worries of those around me that I didn’t notice myself drift up and stake a camp in the swamp of my mind.

Even my meditations tended to get stuck up there. Time to rappel down.

I get myself down this way: first by acknowledging the mess that I’m dealing with in my head, the rainstorm whipping up swirling thoughts. Not all my concerns are unreasonable, but they are pointless to get hung up on in this moment.

Next, I focus on the noise on the street outside (there is always noise on our street, but the longer I listen, the greater chance that I’ll hear a bird or other wildlife sounds). I bring my attention out to the expanse around me—getting out of the cramped space between my ears.

That’s a nice break. But I can’t ignore myself forever. So I feel into the sensations on my face: the feeling of the air (hot or cool), noticing the weight of my glasses on my nose, perhaps an itch on the scalp or cheek.

And here I go, rappeling down to a place where I can ground myself and return to the present moment.
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Then I drop down to my neck and shoulders, giving them a roll as I go, and then towards my chest. Here I pause and bring focus to my breathing. Usually that results in an automatic slowing of the breath, as I notice my ribs expand and contract.

But after a brief stay I rappel down and out more quickly, into my hands and feet. Noticing how my hands feel on whatever surface they lie. And how my feet feel against the earth.

I imagine that my feet are part of the bedrock, joining the rest of the Earth’s crust. Connected and solid, forming a stable base.

And from down here, I look back up to where those clouds around my head were bringing furious rain, and they seem so far away. I’m peaceful and unruffled here on the ground. Down here is what’s really happening in the present, without being affected by the past and future. And what’s happening is just what’s happening, neither good nor bad.

Taking a deep breath, maybe a yawn, I stretch my body out the way I do when waking from a long sleep, enjoying the slight shiver of the muscles.

And then, on to the rest of my day a little bit calmer.

“I Can’t Do It…But If I Could…”

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What would that feel like?

After a few weeks away for a funeral in my hometown, it’s not so simple to jump back into what I was doing before.

This has led to some ‘motivation’ issues (complicated by the grieving process, no doubt). As a result, I’ve been reviewing how I tackle difficult tasks. Before I undertake anything that I consider less palatable, it’s not unusual for me to have some sort of visceral reaction to the idea of the task. I think this is true for many of us. And we might not even be aware that this is taking place.

Encountering resistance to initating projects?
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But if that response is strong enough and negative enough, it can shut down the possibility of accomplishing the task in front of us.

If we can’t get past that point, we don’t tackle the things we should. Unfortunately, those may be the kinds of things that help us grow personally, professionally, health-wise and the like.

So I have a suggestion for you. The next time you have that “ugh, I can’t do that” reaction, stop and consider:

* But…what if I could?
* How would I go about taking care of that? What steps would I take?
* What would it feel like to know that I was doing it?
* How great would it feel to be done?

When you start answering these questions for yourself, several things happen. You introduce the possibility of starting, making it less daunting. Sometimes that’s the hardest part. You open up a path for moving forward, breaking down what needs to be done into small steps. You may imagine yourself taking care of things and bring them into reality.

So what does this look like? Take cleaning as an example, something that I usually put off. “House cleaning” as a concept may seem like a monolithic undertaking. There are so many other things that I’d like to be doing, and many of them important. But consider, what might it be like to just, say, grab the vacuum cleaner and vacuum one area…yeah, that seems doable. And maybe after that, just empty some trash cans. How would it feel to do that? Not to get bogged down in the process but to move through it.

The “Done” List

Try a different kind of list. Instead of (or in addition to) a “to-do” list, make a “done” list. Write down everything you’ve accomplished. It can feel really good to see what you’ve done and more positive than simply crossing off items on a “to-do” list since you’re adding accomplishments instead of taking away tasks.

Note your accomplishments instead of simply crossing out tasks.
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If you have a particularly difficult time getting motivated, split your already-split-up tasks up into even smaller parts: instead of waiting until you’ve “vacuumed the house” to write it down, note that you “vaccuumed the entry way”, “vacuumed the front part of the living room”, even “vaccumed the doormat”. It counts. Because no matter what you’ve done, it’s still better than not having done anything, even if it’s just one thing.

Let your own need for putting completed tasks behind you be the guide for how granular to get with this.

I do this when I clean. And, yes, my go-to is the vacuum to get started. Or sometimes the toilet. But it could also be doing the dishes, something that I’ve actually dreaded in the past but realized that it takes a surprisingly short time. Our brains are what stop us from proceeding so make the process rewarding to your gray matter.

Many of the tasks that we don’t undertake are simpler, easier and take less time than we anticipate (or fear!). The key is to not psych ourselves out, instead breaking them down into bite-sized pieces and recognizing their completion as a reality. Even if you don’t do it all, you’ve done part, bouyed by the knowledge that it doesn’t have to be perfect to count. This builds positive associations with getting things done.

No matter how much you do, it’s all good.

Staying Present in Discomfort: Being Here When You’d Rather Not

^{Title image: Photo by Tolga Ulkan on Unsplash}

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Thank you everyone for your patience during this time of my father’s passing from cancer and dementia. I have appreciated the quiet visit to my childhood home, supporting my mother and being comforted by close friends and relatives.
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There are times that the present moment is an uncomfortable place to be in.

That’s when things are not going well and you want the current situation to be over so that you can move past it and onto healing. But one could argue that this is exactly the time you need to sink even deeper into the present moment.

And even more important to get more granular and still. To observe what is going on even more closely. To understand the important of this very point in time, how it will never come again in the same way. And even in this discomfort there is something to learn, something to lean into, something to accept.

I felt this strain while my father was still in in-home hospice, declining at a pace that was both quick and slow depending on what you’re focusing on. It evoked an axiety in me: wanting to hold on to him and save him–but knowing that this was an impossibility. The tug of time is unrelenting, taking everything with it like a glacier or a tsunami that continues onward no matter what is in its way.

But this is also an opportunity to remember that the impermanence of life does not take away from the joy and beauty of it. Dropping down into what is happening right now, taking a front seat on top of that glacier/tsunami, and allowing everything to be here is the way to appreciate all of this.

So while I would rather that the things that were happening not be happening, I couldn’t stop them. I sat here trying to understand my feelings and allowing gratitude for my father’s long life to remain in the forefront. There was peace in knowing that he was living his last days at home, in familiar surroundings with my mother there.

I could have made all sorts of stories up about what he was feeling or thinking, but the reality is that I didn’t know. So I didn’t pretend and instead noticed the sounds around me, the feeling of the air on my skin and the knowledge that my father’s imminent passing unscored all the many things about him and my own life that I have to be thankful for.

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It’s easier to ignore reality and think about other things, but that doesn’t help us deal with them.

A Rock in a Bubbling Stream [Visualization]

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There’s a lot going on in my family at this time, most importantly the transition of my father to in-home hospice care, signaling that a life chapter will be coming to a close. That’s one of those things that you know is going to happen but usually don’t want to think about.

It’s these kinds of changes that unsettle us the most because they’re significant shake-ups of life as we know it. In the case of my family, this change was not unexpected and yet it is still not easy.

The uncertainties associated with end-of-life issues can be unsettling.
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But I can draw on my meditation practice and ability to stay present to accept things are they are now.

It helps to use a visualization in the midst of emotional upheaval. So I think of myself as being a rock in a rushing stream. You know, one of those rocks that sticks out about the water’s surface and might serve as a comfortable sunning place for a river turtle.

The rock sits still even thought there is a rushing tumult all about. The water parts around it and then rejoins on the opposite side, but the rock remains there, unmoving and unbothered.

The rock doesn’t hinder the flow but neither does it get carried away by it. And as it sits, so do I, observing and understanding and accepting everything that is going on around me. Not getting caught up in my head and taken away by thoughts.

Mindfulness meditation provides me with a stable rock from which I observe the tumult of life as it rushes by.
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There will come a time to grieve but now I focus on what is happening in the moment and how I can support my parents. There is gentle planning as I get more information about the situation. And always, taking deep breaths, feeling into my hands and feet, staying grounded. From this vantage point, I can clearly see what needs to be done today.

“This is what’s happening now. Tomorrow may be different, but at this point in time, I am here.”

So the coming weeks may bring shorter posts, perhaps a skipped one here or there. There will be much to do and it will all get done in time. Decisions will be made as they come up. Focus remains on each task at hand. Even if responsibilities come fast, I find a stable base in my practice that helps support a strong relationship with my family.

The river rushes relentlessly. But I know it’s there and expect the constant movement. Changes become familiar, fear drops away and I am comfortable where I sit, calm as I watch the waters flow past me and then continue onward.

Entering a Dimension of Calm

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One of the amazing “side effects” of meditation for me has been that the calm I experience while I’m on my meditation cushion has been leaking into the rest of my life.

This did not happen overnight. As a matter of fact, it took a number of years (I am currently on 7+ years of daily meditation). But through the ups and downs of my sessions, there’s been a wonderful build-up of grounding and calm.

Yes, I still get smacked with a powerful wave of anxiety from time to time. But recovery is quicker and I don’t feel like I’m being dragged under, disoriented.

The raw dimension is slippery and loud and agitated.
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What I have been feeling lately is that there is a dimensionality to how I experience the world. It’s like this: there is the raw world, which has lots of hard edges and bright lights–overexposed, washed out colors–and loud noises. That’s the world I used to live in exclusively and it felt like a whoosh flying at me and pulling me in, allowing no control over what was hitting me, nor much of a way to steer myself.

But now, I’ve transcended that dimension somewhat. I’ve found a much more grounded dimension, perhaps a more soothing shade–think “golden hour”. The colors are deeper, the pace is slower, the sounds are gentler, the edges are softer. In this dimension, I find my roots quickly, feeling my feet on the floor and connection to the earth, to what is stable and unchanging.

The calm dimension invites deep breaths and beckons us into the present moment.
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Here, I hear my breath and feel the tingle in my hands. I notice when I’m clenching my jaw, furrowing my brow, hunching my shoulders. I am also aware of when the raw dimension starts pushing to the forefront and am able to prioritize creating a safe space so that I don’t leave myself exposed.

This may sound very woo-woo but I assure you it’s not. It’s very much down-to-earth and sensible. There is no otherworldly magic at work. Just the understanding that my nervous system needs to feel safe and stable, and that I can offer myself a protective shield not by running away, but by settling into where I am.

It is as if there is a comfy blanket that I draw around myself, and from there I sit and watch and process and, if necessary, deflect the things around me. This is the gift that consistent meditation along with mindfulness have given me, and it feels like for the first time I’m experiencing life the way it was meant to be lived. Not as something to dodge and weave around but something to grow with.