TGIF :: Take Note, Not Notes

Weekly drop #40 || A potent retreat experience + surgery anniversary reflections

Welcome new subscribers. Thank you for being here. 🙏🏼

ClearLife is an exploration of what it means to live without “dimmers” such as escapist drinking, eating, snark, exercise, shopping, sex, work, drugs, and even generosity in pursuit of a more intentional, present, and embodied life. One path to this freedom is via The Eight Awarenesses. All prior posts are currently available here.

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This week I share reflections coming out of a meditation retreat and pay respect to the one year anniversary of my lumpectomy with a few (hopefully helpful) things I wish I knew before my diagnosis.

Thank you for being a subscriber, free or paid, but a special thanks to you paid subscribers who help me attribute new experiences of “value” to doing my heart’s work. ⚡️🩶⚡️

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Into and Out of the Shadow

I emerged from an intensive three-day (mostly) silent retreat on Monday. Days started in a multi-purpose room-turned meditation hall at 6am sharp and followed a tight schedule until bedtime. Sit. Mindful walk. Sit. Eat. Sit. Mindful walk. Sit. Explore. Eat. Sit. Mindful walk. Sit. Sit some more. Rest. Repeat. Three days and three days of silent practice, including most meals.

There are countless ways to meditate. For this retreat, led by two very well known, yet humble mindfulness masters, the focus was on awareness, presence, and simply being. We were invited to tune into our senses and be with what arose—sensations, thoughts, feelings, memories, plans, and more—without analyzing any of it. Easy, right?

My sons (12 & 16) can do many things I can do these days, some considerably better. My ego had a moment of triumph halfway through: This is one thing I know they couldn’t do, at least yet. Being still and quiet with nothing but your mind, for days, is no joke.

A Wild, Silent Ride

Since I started exploring these practices as a teen, my retreat experiences have generally been quite pleasant. I’ve struggled at times, but overall, I’ve enjoyed the spaciousness of solitude and quiet. I only heard stories of intense difficulty in being with the mind, the heart, various feelings. Until this past weekend.

The first day, I enjoyed some of the typical delights of extended practice: Feeling more present and noticing more with amplified senses—the breath of the trees, the scent of nearby sage, a small rainbow on the glass door, and various physical sensations in my body. I also relished in the stillness coming out of a very busy and adventure-filled holiday season.

On the second day, my experience shifted unexpectedly. I found myself riding the wild stallion of my mind, gripping with all of me to stay somewhat stable. It felt like being tossed around tunnels of various humbling feelings: attachment to outcomes I can’t control, anger towards people who have disappointed me, and frustration with situations that aren’t evolving as I’d like.

Without the option to distract myself of verbally process what was coming up, I sat with and fully experienced these feelings, spending hours tangled in a foreign and unsettling bitterness—in silence—reminding myself it was temporary. It would pass.

I cried. I took a nap. The teaching is to not analyze what arises, but rather to simply be with the experiences. Observe with gentle awareness. “Like a toddler with a new air-filled ball—exploring what it is, how it feels, it’s weight, color, smell, and so on—without attaching words.”

After most of the day, the dark energy settled down. It felt… dissipated, maybe metabolized. All of my striving for an explanation—then reminding myself to stop striving and just be with it—slowed. That night I slept, deeply.

Acknowledging Fear

Early the next day, I realized what I’d been grappling with, the underlying Warlord of most of our shadow experiences: Fear. Fear of abandoning (death). Fear of being abandoned (heartbreak). My opportunity, the work, was to just be with it all.

I’ve reflected since: Fear is the root of most challenging emotions—anger, irritation, disdain, anxiety, and guilt. Shoving it away as we do—filling the space with activities of various kinds—is just as toxic for our wellbeing as unhealthy physical habits. It took a couple of days of quiet stillness for the rivers of my being, winding their way through crevices that have deepened in the last year in particular, to flow a bit, and move on.

Take Note, Not Notes

For years I’ve been trying to drop my compass down from my head into my heart, seeking to navigate less from my brain—more from intuition and attuned to feelings as a guide.

After many years as an attorney, a tech executive, and a busy parent, my default mode is over-analysis: tracking, listing, fixing, doing. Shifting to more allowing, noticing, trusting, and being is challenging—yet deeply rewarding. Our culture encourages a left brain approach to everything from child-rearing to tending to our health. The invitation of both ClearLife and these meditation practices is to honor discomfort. Build self-awareness. Let experiences move through us. It’s radical, rebellious, and life changing.

“Mindfulness practice means that we commit fully in each moment to be present; inviting ourselves to interface with this moment in full awareness, with the intention to embody as best we can an orientation of calmness, mindfulness, and equanimity right here and right now.”
― Jon Kabat-Zinn, Wherever You Go, There You Are

I’m pausing the analysis here, for now, following guidance from the retreat to “Take note, not notes.” The teaching is to let it all in. Let experiences move through us. It’s beautiful to grieve, or experience fear, or notice a tendency that may be a remnant from a prior life. In holding space for these shadowy experiences, being present with them, we transform.

It feels like varsity level ClearLife work, the nectar.

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One Year Later. From Head to Heart, Again and Again.

And everything is connected. Of course this happened now. This was the medicine I needed.

One year ago today I awoke in our home to the usual sights and sounds of the towering redwood forest outside: small birds chirping, the rustle of trees in a pre-dawn breeze. The occasional drop of a redwood cone on our roof. My chest felt tight with a blend of relief, anticipation—and fear. Today was the day I’d go into UCSF Oncology for a lumpectomy to remove a 2.8 cm tumor from my left breast, right over my heart.

January 12, 2023

The healing journey since then has been deep, intense, terror and joy-filled. More about this in an almost year-old Medium post here.

I’m often asked: “Are you okay now?”

“Yes, I am okay, actually very well, thank you.” But it’s complicated.

I am healthier in some ways than before the ordeal, and all in all, I am oddly grateful for the experience and its teachings. Yet, there are some enduring challenges:

❤️‍🩹 I sometimes struggle with a newfound awareness of my mortality.

❤️‍🩹 I am not a huge fan of the medication I’ll be taking for the next 4+ years, yet I try to take the daily pill with gratitude—it’s cutting my recurrence likelihood in half. Mindset really is A Thing.

❤️‍🩹 I spend a lot of time and money on blood tests, research, doctor visits, and preventative care, trying to strike the balance between “moving on” and overdoing it on tracking and preventative care. This feels like a part time job.

❤️‍🩹 I try to pay my good forward in some way, every single day, and sometimes wonder if I’m doing too much or not enough.

What I Wish I Knew

Today, in recognition of this anniversary, I share a list if things I wish I knew before my diagnosis. Please share with anyone you think might benefit. 🙏🏼

1. Don’t dally. Annual mammograms are recommended for most women starting at age 40 (American Cancer Society guidelines here). If you are told you have “dense” or “fibrous” breasts (more info here), consider self-advocating for complimentary screenings. My tumor was not visible on even the diagnostic (post-discovery) mammogram. This goes for other screenings (colonoscopies, skin scans, etc.). Keep up :) 📆

2. We can minimize exposure to everyday carcinogens. Cleaning products, cooking tools, scented candles, tap water, cosmetics, and body care products run the gamut of safety. I love this podcast for a great no-nonsense review of what you can do to Cancer-Proof Your Home. This is also a good, quick read with some valuable tips. At minimum, I wish I’d replaced our scented laundry products (I’ve loved the scent of likely carcinogenic Gain, especially in our sheets, for years!) with cleaner options decades ago. 🫧

3. Stress is no joke. Stress is linked to cancer. I suspect that years of chronic stress, primarily managing feeling torn between motherhood and my profession (always feeling like I should be somewhere else) took its toll. Take note. ✩

4. Consider hormone replacement therapy (HRT) carefully. Many breast cancers are “hormone positive” meaning that their “food” is estrogen or progesterone (mine was). HRT can relieve some of the symptoms of menopause, but do come with some cancer risks for certain people. Make informed decisions. 🧐

5. What we consume (and don’t consume) matters. Excessive alcohol, sugar, animal products (especially processed meat), and processed foods work against our healthy habits. On the other hand, a plant-based diet is the healthiest for most people. A fun goal is at least ten different vegetables and fruits a day, even if just a bite of each. It’s the diversity that matters. 🥦

6. Hydration is key to long term health. Water helps us move toxins through and out of our systems while also helping necessary nutrients work their magic. Drinking half our body weight (in pounds) in water (in ounces) daily is one of the best things we can do to flush the bad stuff out and support our immune systems. 💦

7. Listen to yourself. Have a hunch? Notice discomfort in certain settings—at home, in a job, in a community? Don’t dim it out with a drink, a puff, a jammed calendar, or a life comprised of tasks and smalltalk. If we don’t listen, our bodies will eventually speak up for us. ⚡️

Thank you for being here, and for your connections, reactions, shares, and feedback. I doing my best to let it all in—taking note.

Wishing all presence, wellbeing, and equanimity in the doses that work for you.

Love. ❤️

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Miscellaneous….

Sangha Saturdays… The next Zoom version is tomorrow, Saturday, January 13th, 2024 at 9am PT. If you’d like to join us, please indicate your interest here and you’ll be added to the (anonymous) calendar invitations. The next in-person version will take place in early February.

Dry January… Has sparked a ton of fantastic content on the benefits of living alcohol-free. My journey started with a 30-day break 6+ years ago and I love hearing about how this experiment can change one’s perspective. Thank you for sharing what you’re finding and appreciating. This clip gets the award for most shares with me this week. Love what he’s doing!

Planning for Wisdom 2.0… April 24-26 is well underway. You can learn more about what to expect here. Looking forward to seeing some of you in 3D then. 🙏🏼