Perspective – Frantic Shanti

Breast Cancer: Finding Gratitude as a Cancer Patient

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I’m not going to lie, gratitude can be difficult to navigate as a cancer patient.

When you’re mourning your diagnosis and trying to hold yourself together from the shock, the last thing you want is for some sunny person to tell you to think about everything you’re grateful for.

At such a time, it can be very difficult to think of anything. I, personally, felt a lot of anger, bitterness and even betrayal after I was told I had breast cancer. It wasn’t a great set of feelings to sink into, but that was my reality.

While I tried doing gratitude practices, in the beginning the process was miserable and felt “fake”. The whole notion of being grateful struck me as forced and required me to think about things I didn’t want to focus on.

Tough to be grateful? Make a list of what doesn’t suck.
(Photo by Hannah Olinger on Unsplash)

However, what helped me was making a list. It started out as a list of things about which I could say, “well, at least this didn’t happen” and slowly shifted to “well, this thing made my life easier”. It enabled me to find positives that I had otherwise overlooked.

I wasn’t grateful for getting cancer. But having bosses whose wives had survived breast cancer made it easier for them to understand what I was going through…and also to offer some useful advice (as did their wives).

I didn’t have the luxury of not working throughout treatment, but I was glad that a series of big projects had ended the previous year, so I didn’t have a huge workload waiting for me at the office. And while I really wished I could have had a full-time income, my part-time position meant that I had an easier time shifting my schedule to accommodate appointments and days off following infusions.

Additionally, it was fortunate that the region in which I live had a number of highly lauded cancer centers. And my cancer center offered free counseling by excellent therapists specifically trained to work with cancer patients.

It was also a plus that the summer during which I had my chemo infusions ended up being mild—luckily, since we didn’t have air conditioning—and my fear of enduring nausea through hot summer days never became a reality.

My list got longer and longer.

Opening the door to gratitude soothes the overwrought mind.
(Photo by Pedro Ramos on Unsplash)

So little by little, I started to pick through all the things that ended up better than they could have been. I didn’t call it “gratitude” at first because I was still bitter and refused to accept that there was anything to be grateful for. But the more things that came up that made me realize how much better the situation had turned out…the easier it was to finally come around to the idea that, even in the midst of the crappiest-thing-that-could-happen, there truly were things that I could l squeeze out a bit of gratitude for.

It took time. But when I loosened my grip on bitterness, I allowed in a swell of gratefulness, so much so that it was almost overwhelming how, if I had to get cancer, if it truly had to happen, there were so many things that had gone right. I started feeling so much better emotionally.

So my advice to anyone who wants to try out that “gratitude stuff” to see why it’s so great for your mental health: be gentle, start slowly and don’t tell anyone you’re doing it. This is a private practice for you. When you finally allow yourself to zero in on those little things that aren’t so bad or are kind of fortuitous given the situation, you may find that they buoy your spirits.

That’s all it takes. Not need to rush. Let the appreciation come to you.

How’s the Weather in There?

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Here’s a fun little way of observing your internal state, thanks to a mindfulness practice that I saw on a Calm app tool.

It illustrates the transience of emotions, driving home the notion that nothing is permanent and even the worst of days will come to an end.

It goes like this: consider how you are feeling in this moment. Simply observe without trying to change anything. Are you feeling content and peaceful? Stressed-out? Unmotivated?

Then try to describe those same emotions in terms of the weather. If you are feeling great, it’s sunny without a cloud in the sky. If you feel anxious, perhaps there are dark clouds overhead. Angry? Thunder and lightning abound. Tired and groggy translates to being in the midst of thick fog.

Feeling amazing? It’s a clear day with a warm, gentle breeze.
(Photo by Vlad ION on Unsplash)

Looking at your emotions in this way enables you make some space between the intensity of what you’re feeling and the present moment, so that you don’t get completely sucked in and consumed by negativity. This is a particularly important part of mindfulness and something to practice on a daily basis.

But creating an internal weather report also provides a different perspective on the all-encompassing nature of some emotions. It can be difficult to see the break in the clouds when you are in the midst of a stormy night. But eventually the storm passes, as do different emotions.

This gives us hope that no matter how oppressive things feel right now, they will pass and better times will appear on the horizon.

Give this simple practice a try and I wish you brighter days ahead.

The Bliss of Non-Attachment

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So, I have a silly little story about non-attachment.

During Memorial Day weekend, I placed an order with a Maine mushroom company humorously called North Spore. [Note: I am not affiliated with them in any way other than as a customer.]

I ordered two bags of drinking chocolate with functional mushrooms added. While I usually prefer my cacao unsweetened, I was willing to try this as it was a more economical purchase than the orders that I’d placed for “ceremonial grade” cacao. Additionally, I love mushrooms so I considered it a special treat.

I had had several stressful months with no significant break coming up, so I was really looking forward to receiving my package and its delicious contents—a little respite from the tumult that was my life. The package was scheduled to arrive on Saturday, June 7th and you can bet I was tracking its transit via the US Postal Service’s phone app. No matter what kind of a day Saturday turned out to be, I was already imagining enjoying a nice warm cup that evening, making things better in some small way.

Maybe you can see where I’m going with this? I was invested.

Saturday arrived…I received the delivery text…I ran out to our complex’s mailroom. But there was nothing in my mailbox. No package, no key to the larger package holding box, nothing. I groped around inside my mailbox, hoping that maybe I was just blind and the key was actually there. But no.

Frustration!

NOOOOOO!

And it was at that moment, as I was simultaneously (silently) cursing our mail carrier—who has mixed up mailboxes before—and praying that the key had ended up in the box of an honest neighbor, that I was hit square in the face by the suffering that attachment brings.

I had set up an expectation (honestly, a reasonable one), felt into it very deeply, and experienced that ache of having to rip myself away from it when things went in a different direction.

Had I been able to practice non-attachment, I would have taken this in stride. After all, the package was clearly misdelivered and may still show up, and if not, a trip to the post office would follow since I had a tracking number and the shipment was insured. It would have been easier to shake off disappointment because I would not have built up such strong expectations and hung so much on receiving my hot cocoa.

But alas, I am very much an imperfect human being who did a very natural thing in anticipating the arrival of my package, along with expecting the USPS not to louse it up. So after fuming and agonizing over the “unfairness of it all”, I decided to sit with all of this for a while: acknowledging that it made sense for me to look forward to receiving something to brighten my week along with the importance of not beating myself up for doing so; but also cajoling myself into releasing my grip on what I had so wanted as the outcome in addition to stepping back and getting perspective on the situation.

And then I felt better, like a big chunk of tension had been released. It’s not easy being human sometimes.

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I realize that not getting a shipment of drinking chocolate is not a devastating outcome, and yet, even something so relatively insignificant felt like a big letdown in the face of expectation. So then, what about a potentially life-changing outcome? The effect could be brutal enough to upset one’s established foundation. It underscores the clinginess of attachment and when possible why we should strive to soften our need to have things be a certain way.

Making a List, Checking It Twice

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I have been stressed lately, which is a bummer because this year I really wanted to relax and enjoy the holiday season. But once again, it seems like the year has some zingers left for the final months of 2024.

Instead of writing about them in a post, I decided to write them down…and I was surprised by how many stressors had built up.

I made my list carefully, organizing it by time periods: first, I wrote down the things that had been nagging me all year or longer. Stuff like constant increases in rent and cost-of-living. These were exerting continuous pressure on my well-being.

“Dear Santa, please don’t bring me any more stress. I’m good for this year.”
(Photo by Mike Arney on Unsplash)

Second, I wrote down things that seemed to have happened in the second half of the year and had a large impact, like my father’s death and experiencing frequent visual migraine auras.

Third, I got more granular and wrote about the things I was experiencing on a daily basis. Like feeling that my words were misunderstood or having to go through the rigamarole of tracking down a package that hadn’t arrived—these are things that work themselves out in a relatively short period of time but are stressful in the moment.

Why bother listing all this? Because it helps sort things out. I get perspective on exactly what’s going on in my life. Without that, it’s like someone throwing a huge blanket over you—suddenly it’s dark and you feel smothered. And that feeling of overwhelm elicits a lot of anxiety.

And once I had started the lists, I considered how I was reacting to these stressors. For example, since my father’s death I had not given myself the opportunity to grieve, not even during the funeral. There were so many other concerns that it didn’t seem like it was “the right time”.

So over the last two weeks, I gave myself the space to cry. If I hadn’t stopped to consider what was actually going on, I might have tried to soldier on and pushed away how much it hurt. I had been affected by not only his loss, but also by how his gentle nature meant he didn’t push back against forces that led him to forsake his own passions, and knowing that compounded my pain.

Ah, here comes that word again: PERSPECTIVE. You really don’t get the whole view until you step back and quietly observe.
(Photo by Brigitta Schneiter on Unsplash)

But the reactions don’t have to be as heavy as that. I also noticed that I had been doing a lot of sighing this year, something that is associated with stress and anxiety. Even my body was trying to tell me to take a break.

Writing out the lists gave me a chance to acknowledge what I was already feeling, and pushed me to evaluate whether what I was doing to relieve my stress levels was effective enough for what was going on.

It’s important to note that the purpose of writing up these lists is not to wallow in misery! Everyone has stress of some kind and I’m not unique in that, nor am I trying to make this a bigger thing than it is.

The fact is, some stressors happen to me and some I impose upon myself (unrealistic expectations, perhaps?). It is only when I am able to review them that I can determine which is which, and then take appropriate measures to alleviate whatever pressures I can.

Exactly Where You’re Supposed to Be

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Some time ago, I was thinking how I got to where I am and was seized by a sense of regret and shame. This was not where I thought I’d be by this age.

So many things that I’d worked for education-wise, health-wise, career-wise seemed to have been derailed by decisions I’d made based on life circumstances that I didn’t feel I could control…or by just plain bad luck (cancer, I’m looking at you).

As I pondered this, I became enveloped in it, slipping down a dark hole, trying to squash those negative feelings—the ones that get buried for a while only to pop back up at 3am some night.

But then I thought, “Ok, so how about another way of looking at this?”

What if how I am now was the end goal all along?

What if where you are right now is where you need to be for the rest of your life to work out according to plan?
(Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

And that shift in perspective allowed me to look at the things that I felt I hadn’t fully achieved as being “the plan” for creating me as I am now.

And what I am now is made up of the valuable experiences that I was labeling as half-done or poorly-executed or forced upon me—but no, perhaps they were all so necessary for setting up myself in this place with this knowledge. And from here, preparing me to move forward.

A master’s degree I haven’t used for a couple of decades, a job situation that falls below my career aspirations, a body that is limping back from injuries and cancer, a mind that can be my worst enemy. The experience of all of these brings with it wisdom and insight. And strength.

Where I am now is exactly where I need to be for the next chapter of my life. The foundation for future-me has been established.

So, how about you?

What if you spin the timeline around, understanding and appreciating who you are now, however “imperfect” it might seem to you, social media, whomever else serves as the judge of your life. This is now your starting point.

What’s your next step?

How can you take everything that’s come before you and allow it to support the incredible you that you will become?

The Upside of Chemo Brain

(Title image: Photo by Jon Tyson on Unsplash)

As I’m stumbling through a bad cold, I got a reminder that you can find good stuff in bad situations.

Let me see if I can string this together somewhat coherently…

The cold I have came with an eye infection (relax, not posting pics!) that makes me light-sensitive enough that I need to be chauffeured around. Went to the doc last week, got a prescription for eye drops, then swung by to do some shopping, which I needed to wear sunglasses for.

And as I’m picking my way through a busy Costco, I’m holding onto a phone that I just bought–has a case but no screen protector yet–and I’m really worried that I’m going to drop it or lose it if I get distracted.

And why do I get distracted? Because anxiety and a touch of chemo brain (aka Cancer-Related Cognitive Impairment (CRCI)) have a summative effect that makes me loopy. Not a “scare-your-children” kind of loopy, but a constant “what-was-I-just-doing” kind of loopy. Over and over and over again.

I’ve been dealing with this over the past couple of months while juggling stressors. My eye infection introduced a new wrinkle–I am very much a visual person and use visual cues to manage the anxiety/CRCI problem.

But the good news? The Memory and Attention Adaptation Training (MAAT) classes I took for managing CRCI focused on mindfulness as a way of dealing with the lapses in memory.

And when I was in a Costco bathroom stall, I realized that I was acutely aware of where all my things were–purse on the door hook, phone on top of the toilet paper dispenser. I was ALL THERE and 100% present. I couldn’t afford not to be.

Not an earth-shaking revelation, but it was another reminder that there are all sorts ways to ground ourselves in the present. If I hadn’t taken the MAAT class I don’t think I would have felt so confident that what I was doing (being mindful) would work so well to help me stay focused and aware.

So, yes, I can be grateful for chemo brain for that.

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Today my vision has improved to the point where I can tell that the kitchen floor is really dirty, and that is most unfortunate indeed.

Dampening the Echoes of the Past

(Title image: Photo by Anastasiya Badun on Unsplash)

The Advent season is a perfect time for introspection and mindfulness. For me, 2023 has had challenges and as a result has served as a proving ground for different calming techniques.

One of the things I’ve grappled with, usually in the wee hours of morning, is the persistence of uncomfortable memories from the past.

It reminds me of a one-panel comic that I saw some time ago: a person lying in bed, eyes wide, a theater marquis over their head that reads in bright lights: PLAYING AT 3AM! EVERYTHING YOU SAID AT THE PARTY LAST NIGHT! [A cartoon in the same general vein by Hilary Fitzgerald Campbell appeared in The New Yorker on Jan 21, 2019 (#11 of 15), but I’m not posting it here because they might be touchy about copyright infringement.]

In the middle of the night, being hit with an glaring memory of something that sends your stress levels rocketing…goodbye sleep.
(Photo by Gregory Brainard on Unsplash)

How many of us have had a similar experience? I occasionally find myself tortured by things I said or did even decades ago. DECADES! Or they could have happened yesterday. A simple image can trigger shame, embarrassment or regret that feels real and vivid and, yes, while this generally happens at night for me, it’s certainly not limited to that time.

How odd that we give the past so much power over us when it’s not even real anymore. While we’re shaped by our experiences, allowing ourselves to be haunted by them serves no purpose, especially not once we’ve learned whatever we needed to from them.

Soooo, one early morning in the darkness I found a way to add some perspective to the memories that bully me: I started thinking of them as echoes, wispy harmless reminders of what happened.

And there in bed at 3am, I am safe. My body is not in the imagined situation, it’s under the covers, lying on my mattress. Here is where mindfulness is so helpful because it brings me back to the present. The past is echoing, trying to get my attention. But the more aware I am of where I am in space currently, the easier it is to step back and simply observe the echoes, watching them fade away.

I’m making this sound simple, I know–as with all the things that bounce around inside our heads, taming a stressful memory is not necessarily easy. But identifying it as just an echo has been remarkably helpful for me. It has provided a different viewing angle that enabled my perspective to shift.

Echo…echo…echo…

Thinking of thoughts as echoes can dispell them, but simultaneously focusing on a sense helps ground us in reality.
(Photo by Mariana Rascão on Unsplash)

I’m not there now, those other people are not there now, that event is not happening now–just because I remember it so vividly doesn’t mean that anyone else does. And most of the time, I don’t remember it either. Only during the limited, wee-morning-hour viewing window during which it appears because I’m susceptible to the tickle of anxiety.

The senses can bring me back to reality. Opening the eyes, feeling where my body contacts the surface that it’s on, hearing the hum of a fan or sound machine. Anything occuring in the present anchors me to what’s going on now.

And in the present, that echo cannot hurt me because it’s just an airy thought.

Of course, this all comes back to the basic idea that the more we practice presence, the easier it will be to minimize the impact of thoughts that unsettle us. It may take some exploration to find what works best for you, but in the end, being patient and consistent will be the best way to calm your mind and bring you back to what is real at the moment.

Two Anxieties but One Breath

So, something occurred to me as I was dealing with stress about a work project…and then got news of changes that may require us to quickly move from the place in which we’ve lived for over ten years.

I am experiencing two different textures of anxieties. I’ve heard people discuss chronic and acute anxiety, but I would characterize the way I experience anxiety differently.

The first anxiety may wear you down but won’t require a complete change in your life.
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The first is anxiety about what may happen or anxiety about what has taken place in the past and I can’t change. That encompasses stressful events that you need to work through, like a job-related project, which requires holding on and managing. It’s more of a chronic type of stress even though it might be time-limited. There are things out of my control or, in the case or what has already taken place, there’s no going back. It doesn’t qualify as life-changing as it may intensify and relax depending on conditions.

The second, however, is anxiety about something that *is* life changing. Those of us who have been handed a cancer diagnosis know what it feels like. It means that the future will look dramatically different from what we expected it be. Other examples are a death of a loved one or losing everything in a natural disaster. A sudden involuntary change in your living situation. This requires letting go and radically recalculating what you’ve become very used to. It can be very difficult to do, especially for those of us who like stability in our lives.

The first anxiety is exhausting. The second is terrifying. Having experienced both, I can definitively state that the first anxiety pales in comparison to the second. In fact, in the face of the second anxiety we may actually let go of the first completely and wonder why it ever bothered us.

The second anxiety is more intense and will alter life as you currently know it.
Photo by Ann on Unsplash

At the same time, as terrible as it may be, the second anxiety offers us a perspective and clarity that we would be hard pressed to accept as quickly any other way.

I do not wish either of these anxieties on anyone, but if there’s a bright side to them it’s that the same type of mindfulness practice that helps us deal with the anxiety of the first kind will also help when the expectation-smashing heaviness of the second anxiety hits.

Although you may still wake in the middle of the night, heart racing and wishing things had not changed, a consistent mindfulness meditation practice will provide you with the tools to smooth the jagged edges of rumination and fear, slowing the breathing and with it the heart rate, even in the presence of frightening thoughts.

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Of course, since this is a mindfulness blog in addition to being cancer-related, I cannot resist talking about one of the most effective techniques that I’ve found for calming myself: belly breathing.

Start by simply breathing deeply into the belly, as anxiety often results in shallow breaths. The deeper the inhale, the more air you will have for the exhale – try matching inhales and exhales in length. It won’t happen immediately. Give it time.

Create a breathing cycle and keep going. Establish a breathing practice and stick with it.
Photo by Brett Jordan on Unsplash

Keep breathing into the belly, fully engaging the diaphragm, allowing it to drop and make space for your lungs.

As you do this, focus on the breath. The uncalm thoughts can still be there, but gently allow them to sit on the sidelines for now. I used to try to completely push them away, but they would bob back up to the surface like a balloon pulled under water, bringing the intensity of my anxiety back with it.

So let them be there…keep one eye on them if necessary but give your breath the main stage.

Once the inhales and exhales have evened out in length, insert a short pause between them. Breathe in … pause … breathe out … pause. Just a little stop to elongate the cycle. Consistently breathing into your belly.

Transition to full box breathing, where the inhales, exhales and pauses are all equal in length. If you get very comfortable doing this, for a little extra, try to make the exhales just a touch longer than the inhales.

Or if it gets tiring, simply try to make your exhales a little bit longer than your inhales and dispense with the pauses altogether.

Maintain this type of soothing, intentional breathing for a few minutes or longer, depending on how your body is responding or what your nervous system needs today.

Truly, you don’t have to do this perfectly or adhere to a specific count. Simply focusing on your breath and slowing your breathing will help immeasureably in making space for your thoughts so that you can back away a bit and survey the scene without feeling claustrophobic, no matter which anxiety you’re dealing with at the moment.

The Satisfying Pleasure of Letting Go

If you’ve read my last couple of posts (here and here), you’ll know that I’ve been dealing with the frustrations of water leaks, never-ending renovations and unfortunate coincidences.

Hopefully, this will be the third and last installment of the trials and tribulations concerning this situation. But just to catch you up, the cabinets which were supposed to be installed Thursday, not in time for our houseguest’s arrival on Wednesday, but just a day late…were not.

Yet again, there were dashed expectations: one of the cabinets arrived with a crushed side and was unable to be used. So the innards of these cabinets are still piled up on and under the dining table and the place looks disheveled.

When things start blowing up, sometimes all you can do is sit back and enjoy the show.

And due to the completely unrelated construction taking place outside, which will prevent daytime access to our unit for several days, there will be no cabinet installation for at least another week, regardless of when the new cabinets come in.

But you know what? It’s okay.

I had wanted to have everything put together for our guest. That was not possible, so–admittedly after much jaw clenching–I completely let go. The crushed cabinet, the disruptive construction, I’m simply accepting it and that feels so good.

It really doesn’t matter when the cabinets are put up or what other monkey wrenches are thrown into the mix. We’ll get to closure when we get there.

Which is a good thing because on Saturday evening, I discovered another leak in the walls that soaked the new (still unpainted) drywall and flooded out the unit below us. And I’m totally serious. The inside of our hall closet sounded like a rainstorm.

Well, we needed rain…

I guess I could have been more stressed about it, but with everything that had already taken place, I shrugged. We notified out unit owner, we called the plumber, we waited for the leak to be fixed.

Another day, another leak, another disruption, another hole in the drywall. Still okay.

These are still problems that need to be dealt with. But whether it’s skillful mindfulness (probably not) or simply emotional exhaustion (more likely), it’s not getting to me and it feels amazing to stay calm under such circumstances.

I know I cannot avoid stressors in my life. So I’m trying to remember what this feels like. If I can draw on this experience the next time an upheaval occurs, perhaps I can slip into gentle acceptance and let reactive anxiety pass me by?

“Dropping a Plumb Line”: Dealing with Disappointment

This is a follow up of my last post, where I described the unending saga of unfinished repairs following a leak in our apartment, something that left me feeling helpless.

Before I posted last week, I removed a section that I’d written about fears of kitchen cabinets not arriving on schedule, and that they’d be hung after our upcoming houseguest had arrived and the place would still be torn apart. I cut it out because I thought, “Come on you’re catastrophizing, no one needs to read about that.”

Except that that’s exactly what happened. I got a call that there was another delay. All the expectations I’d had came crashing down in one big pile of disappointment. That is, disappointment mixed with shame, self-judgment, embarrassment, depression, etc. because I’d mixed so many feelings of self-worth into having our apartment be fixed up prior to our guest’s arrival.

This was something so biting for me as a middle-aged women who, despite being an employed “professional”, was still locked into the idea that whatever else I accomplished didn’t matter if my home wasn’t in guest-ready condition.

I tried to do a meditation on imagining what it would feel like if everything that had happened was the way it was meant to be, but I couldn’t even muster that feeling of acceptance.

Again it was the expectation, the need that I had to have things be different. I tried sitting with my disappointment but the feelings were sticky and pulled me down even more.

So then I thought, if it’s the unrealized expectation that I had, the one that had built up over the last two-plus months of restoration agony in which I had no control and was at the mercy of the HOA, our landlord and anyone else…how do I soften that expectation to make this better?

Oh, how differently things look when you drop down into a situation without prior expectations.

I regrouped and tried meditating again, but this time I was dropping straight into the situation, vertically, without those weeks of built up frustration and need. As if I were sitting on the tip of a plumb line, called into action and ready to problem-solve.

What would it feel like to come into this situation right now? If I were to start out by knowing that I’d have to deal with the kitchen being in boxes in the living room area where our guest is supposed to sleep and then move forward from there.

I imagined myself arriving without baggage and it felt so much better. Suddenly, my focus was on dealing with the situation instead of lamenting about how things could have been. This was more productive and less agonizing. Yes, potentially still frustrating, but it took me out of the magnified disappointment that didn’t even make sense from this perspective.

It was such a small shift but it made a significant and immediate difference. That emotional wall that I’d been hitting fell away and I could see solutions. And now things didn’t look that bad. Yes, things looked different but given that I felt so much better and more in-control, this was the best outcome that I could have expected, given the situation.

Again, perspective came to the rescue and I was reminded that there is always a path out of every situation if we give ourselves space to consider it.

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And now, off to clean the bathroom.