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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Not a Toomah”: My Aura Theory

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Simple Meditations: Just a Piece of the Puzzle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What a lovely way to meditate.

The Gift of Self-Care

(Title image: Photo by Ben White on Unsplash)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I think you get the idea.

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

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

I wish you a peaceful, positive start to 2025!

Cancer Took the Magic Away, Mindfulness Brought It Back

(Title image: Photo by Ethan Hoover on Unsplash)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And for this moment, I am at peace.

When Gratitude is Hard, Try Appreciation

(Title image: Photo by Amadeo Valar on Unsplash)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(And yes, I’m making a list again.)

Staying Calm is the Best Revenge

(Title image: Image by Pexels from Pixabay)

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!
(Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

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

(Title image: Photo by Josh Rangel on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Florian Klauer on Unsplash)

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

(Title image: Photo by Outward Bound Costa Rica on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Taylor Brandon on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Ben Kitching on Unsplash)

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…”

(Title image: Photo by Mick Haupt on Unsplash)

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?
(Photo by Peyman Shojaei on Unsplash)

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.
(Photo by Glenn Carstens-Peters on Unsplash)

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.