Pushing My Reset Button: Finding Balance and Healing Through Cancer

When the world becomes too much, I turn to my personal "undo" list, which are six simple practices that help me shed the day's weight and return to myself. I gently exercise my body until my breath deepens. I break from familiar patterns that have become invisible prisons. I silence the endless ping of notifications, even if just for hours. I gather with my Bells of Hope meditation circle, where our collective silence speaks volumes. I ask myself what gifts the day has offered, however small they may be. And I gently redirect my attention to what truly matters, letting the rest fall away.

Like many of us, I am often glued to my iPhone, my thumb sliding hypnotically across the glossy screen as I scroll through an endless parade of Facebook posts — photos of family and friends from around the world sharing their travels, joyful gatherings, or picturesque landscapes. After an hour, my eyes get tired from the information overload. Yet something is soothing about the mindless rhythm of it all — the same comfort I find in watching the television illuminate my living room at 2 AM, three episodes deep into a cooking competition where chefs frantically plate dishes I'll never taste.

But a welcome break in my habitual scrolling soon comes when I am invited to stay with my sister and her husband in their cozy home in New Hampshire, which features warm, carpeted floors and a sunlit kitchen. In their finished basement (a cavernous space with recessed lighting and a gallery of memorabilia) they've created a mini-gym with an elliptical bicycle (the kind with a cushioned seat that cradles your lower back), a professional-grade treadmill with digital readouts, and an exercise ball the color of a summer sky.

While staying with my sister and her husband, staying off social media, I reconnect with my body again as if acquainting myself with something brand new. My quadriceps tremble as I rise from their plush living room sofa, my arms lifting from the armrests like construction cranes. Inspired by the basement gym, I descend the carpeted stairs and mount the elliptical, pedaling steadily for ten minutes while admiring the posters and artwork. Afterward, I balance on the exercise ball, its surface yielding slightly under my weight, and completed eighteen deliberate squats with my arms crossed over my chest, feeling the satisfying stretch and burn in my thighs.

With each squat, my muscles trembled but held, and I felt a wave of accomplishment wash over me, not just for completing the exercise, but for finally addressing the nagging guilt of neglected physical therapy. The spaciousness around me, free from the clutter of my usual environment, seemed to mirror the mental clearing I was experiencing.

Since Covid, I have also been hosting a daily meditation group called Bells of Hope where the focus is to de-stress and disconnect from the pace of modern life. During my sessions in New Hampshite, I notice my shoulders relax and my breathing deepen the moment I see our circle of familiar faces on my laptop screen, Sue with her little dog, Mitzi; Jochen in his lovely apartment in Berlin; or Leticia sitting in her outdoor yard surrounded by green trees. Dee has a husband who is failing, others are dealing with grief, and the news has everyone on edge. I always begin by asking, "What are you grateful for today?" As we take turns sharing, I watch concerned brows soften and tight lips curve into gentle smiles. The heaviness in the Zoom room lifts, replaced by something lighter, more buoyant.

I lead everyone through a visualization exercise. "Picture yourself in a place where you feel completely at peace," I say softly. "Maybe you're sitting in a temple on the mountain peak, or enjoying the view of the ocean on a summer evening. Perhaps you're watching the moonlight spread across water, or wiggling your toes into warm beach sand while waves whisper against

the shore. Wherever you are, feel how the earth supports you, how this moment holds you perfectly."

The benefits of meditation cannot be overstated. My brother-in-law Steve, who experienced several mini-strokes had already been practicing transcendental meditation techniques during his recovery. He noticeably reduced his stress which contributed to his healing process. As a cancer patient, I also find meditation similarly invaluable to calming my mind.

Finally, gratitude is yet another pathway to peace. As I visit with my family in New Hampshire, the fresh landscape lifts my spirits. The warmth of connection that truly nourishes me. My sisters and I made a pilgrimage yesterday to Mt Auburn Cemetery in Cambridge, a place where history and beauty intertwine. Standing before the gravestones of our parents and uncle, I ring Tibetan bells that roll out across the quiet grounds. I breathe in the fragrant summer air and turn my face to the sun. The scent of incense rises like prayers into the air...and I am grateful for this moment.

This piece reflects the author’s personal experience and perspective. For medical advice, please consult your health care provider.

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