Yoga Supporting the Cancer Community

This year's Pose 4 a Purpose festival has become something a little different. For the past 2 years, I've organized - with the help of very dedicated volunteers - a wonderful outdoor yoga festival that raised money for Cancer CAREpoint. This local nonprofit offers free non-medical support services to anyone dealing with cancer in the Silicon Valley. This means you, your neighbors, your friends and family who have been touched by cancer (and is there anyone who hasn't been?) can benefit from their wide-reaching support.

Instead of organizing an outdoor festival, we decided to ask the local yoga studios to support Cancer CAREpoint directly. Each of our participating studios agreed to host events to raise funds for this great cause. Thank you, Almaden Yoga, Breathe Los Gatos, Just Breathe @ Rivermark, Willow Glen Yoga, Yoga @ Cindy's and Yoga of Los Altos for coming together and supporting us again!

Here is a short list of some of the wonderful events you can participate in and contribute to cancer support in your community:

• Bollywood dance
• Chanting
• Yoga mala (108 sun salutations)
• Aerial yoga relaxation
• Body work
• Acro yoga
• Kids yoga
• Heated vinyasa yoga
• Gentle yoga
• Vinyasa workshop for teachers
• Self-massage workshop
• Restorative yoga
• Candlelight flow to live guitar music
• Juice bar purchases

Click the flyers below and our participating studios' websites for more information. This is such a beautiful example of the yoga community coming together in order to lessen suffering in themselves and others... and as we learn in yoga, "there are no others". Namaste.

almadenyoga.com

breathelosgatos.com

   

   

justbreatheyogarivermark.com

willowglenyoga.com

    

yogaatcindys.com

yogaoflosaltos.com

What's the Deal With Yoga and Cancer?

Photo credit:
Kimberly Saxton-Heinrichs

A regular yoga practice offers us:

• Ease in our bodies by accepting our current reality and remembering that it all changes.
• Ease in our breaths through intimate practices.
• Ease in our minds with observation of the "pause between stimulus and response", as Viktor Frankl coined it.
• Ease in our emotions as we search out equanimity between our most ruinous and elated feelings.

These are all wonderful benefits from the practice, but some may want more than experiential claims to "prove" why they should practice yoga.

Yoga Helps Side Effects

Most of the studies are restricted to observing the change in the side effects of treatment as the participant undergoes a regular yoga practice. In her blog post for the Mesothelioma Cancer Alliance, Community Program Coordinator Jackie Clark writes about 2 studies that show yoga helps manage treatment side effects for both breast cancer and prostate cancer patients.

Yoga Helps on a Cellular Level

A study published last November discussed how yoga and meditation helps keep telomere length (the bits at the end of the DNA strand) from eroding; longer telomeres have been associated with reduced genetic mutation, better treatment outcomes and longevity. The Canadian study suggests that meditation, yoga and support groups effected the participants on a genetic level.

People have been claiming that yoga helps prevent a cancer diagnosis, and this latest genetic link seems to point to that. I'm not sure that it's an easy link, though, because we are still dealing with the benefits listed at the start of this post... and those are not easily measured.

Yoga, a Tool to Relieve Suffering

I often joke with my students that my favorite place to practice my calm, 3-part breathing is in the dentist's chair. I know there may be a few of you reading who actually enjoy the dentist, but let me tell you that it's one place where suffering arises for me. A lot. Not just physical suffering (although there's plenty of that to go around), but emotional suffering, too. I have a knack for beating myself up about my dental hygiene, if I'm not careful. After a few decades of unpleasant experiences at the dentist, I decided to try something different. I started using my yogic breathing and conscious relaxation techniques to calm down during my visits, and it really helped make my appointments more enjoyable. I even had a dental hygienist ask me if I was falling asleep once! Focusing on my breathing helps keep my mind away from the blame rut, and my physical practice allows me to relax into the chair without triggering my chronic pain.

During my most recent visit, my doctor found a chip in one of my many fillings, and asked me to stay to get it taken care of right away. That meant that instead of 60 minutes of dentist-chair practice, I got 90 minutes. While I was waiting for the anesthesia to take effect, I checked my emails, and found one from someone who had just been diagnosed with cancer. She and I knew each other from before my yoga days, when our children went to school together, and then she began coming to classes with me. As my mouth grew numb, my heart broke. I pictured the long road ahead for her: surgery (if she's lucky), chemo, radiation (hopefully not)... Minutes before, I had been lamenting the drill, the soreness, the drooling that would come with my dental work. These discomforts paled compared to what she is facing. I replied to her email with the only answer I have: come to yoga.

There is a special chemistry that forms in our Yoga for Cancer Survivorship classes, a recipe made up of all the students who show up, despite what they are feeling and facing. Some days there are tears. Some days there is laughter. Some days I feel helpless and can only host an accepting environment that I hope does some good. Some days there is joy. Students are reminded of their connection with each other and with their bodies. Whether it's anxiety or pain, students report feeling relief from the suffering after class.

On Saturday, September 12, I'll be producing the second annual Pose 4 a Purpose Yoga Festival and Fundraiser in Los Gatos. This event brings together nearly 20 of the area's yoga studios and many more teachers, who volunteer their time and talents to raise money for Cancer CAREpoint, a local nonprofit offering free non-medical services to people with cancer. From wig banks to support groups, meditation to massage, nutrition to yoga lessons, this organization presents several different ways to support people dealing with the suffering brought on by a cancer diagnosis.

I'm so pleased to be able to unite our yoga community this way, so that we can practice to relieve our own suffering, as well as others. I hope you'll join me!

Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu

"May all beings everywhere be happy and free from suffering"

Evidence-Based Yoga

Yoga is a holistic practice. Asana (poses), pranayama (breathing) and mindfulness (paying attention for an extended period of time, on purpose) are some of the main ingredients of this practice. When I began teaching yoga to people with cancer, I investigated how to apply these practices in a way that would be the most effective.

I had heard claims about twists releasing toxins, inversions supporting the immune system, backbends counteracting depression and forward bends curbing anxiety. I would try to repeat these claims in my yoga classes, but I always felt uncomfortable stating them. I have a bachelor's degree in engineering; I used the scientific method for decades, and to be simply restating someone else's results without having checked their accuracy felt fraudulent to me.

I began to look at yoga from a western, reductionist perspective, asking myself about the biology of each pose, each breathing technique, each mindfulness tool. I narrowed my focus down to the basic elements of each practice and searched through the scientific studies to find supporting data for using them.

I uncovered many studies that I dismissed, because they were designed without randomized selection and/or control groups. Randomized selection discourages bias and control groups help determine if the results are due to the placebo effect. Granted, it is difficult to determine a control situation for yoga practices, because most people know when they are practicing yoga and when they are not, but some researchers have become very creative when designing control groups. I collected these studies and used their protocols to support any claims I made in yoga classes, because I felt secure that the results from these studies were repeatable.

Still, yoga is a holistic practice. My classes are not just a list of studies. I offer the traditional longevity tools of asana, pranayama and mindfulness, but I make sure that the pieces of the holistic puzzle have research behind them, so that the practice is the most effective that it can be.

Tribes

Photo: moominmolly

At the end of each of my classes for people dealing with cancer, I ask my students to send their voices out to people who may need a respite from their own cancer journey. I imagine our "om" chant creates a ripple in the energy field of life, so that someone near or far might feel a moment of peace. I picture the faces of my friends here in town, as well as those in Texas, New Mexico, Colorado, and out further in Ontario and on to Johannesburg and in Singapore. All these people are dealing with cancer. All are facing the same fears, pain, hopes and dreams. All are part of the same tribe. We call it a reluctant tribe, but has a healing potential, whether reluctant or not.

Evolutionary Entrainment

Entrainment in the biomusicological sense refers to the synchronization of organisms to an external rhythm, usually produced by other organisms with whom they interact socially. Have you ever noticed yourself tapping out the rhythm of a song on the radio, even if you don't know or like that song? When I ask my students to chant the sound of om, they will attempt to match the pitch, volume and length of the other voices. If I play music during the pranayama portion of my classes, my students will try to match their breaths to the beat of the music - often without their awareness!

It's believed that this behavior developed as part of a survival mechanism. The ability to be entrained allows humans to fall into the altered state of consciousness called battle trance. In this state, humans lose their individuality, do not feel fear and pain, are united in a shared collective identity, and act in the best interests of the group. This was crucial for the physical survival of our ancestors against the big African predators.

The tribe that entrained was the tribe that survived.

Healing Entrainment

Has anyone told you, "you have an infectious smile [or laugh]"? If so, you've been participating in a healing version of entrainment. Rather than preparing us to go into battle, this shift in consciousness moves us into a calmer state of rest and relaxation - where healing can occur. I first noticed this in my own practice when I observed how much easier it is (though still challenging) to meditate in a community rather than on my own at home. My tribe kept me present and accountable.

I encourage people going through cancer treatments to come to class as often as they can so they can feel the healing power of their community, of their tribe. Practicing at home is also important, and can be very effective once they have experienced the potency of a class environment.

Now that the predators are more likely to come from within our own bodies, reconnecting with our tribe is vital. We don't have to be physically present. We don't have to be exactly alike. We just have to recognize our similarities and entrain to that calming rhythm.

Reluctant or not, our tribes will save us.

Autumn and the Art of Letting Go

Here in California, our change of seasons are subtler than in other parts of the world, but they still impact us.

Photo: strogoscope

Last Friday, I sat outside the DMV as my daughter applied for her driver's permit. There were oak leaves on the ground - beautiful splashes of yellow with orange and brown singing the edges. I picked one up and crumpled it, feeling the rubbery texture of the innermost part of the leaf, the part closest to the stem. Maybe this leaf wasn't quite ready to be released, yet here it was.

Are we ever ready to let go?

As my "baby" begins her rite of passage towards independence, I keep thinking of the rubber part inside, and I wonder if the leaf protests, or just accepts the truth of the season: Fall is for letting go.

The change of the seasons varies year to year and place to place; our ability to accept change varies, too. As a teacher who works primarily with populations that are dealing with change, I see variety in how people let go and accept their new reality. Everyone has a different timeline - some leaves hold out until the very end of the season, after all - and I see my role as helping my students understand what is available to them, no matter the circumstances.

I'm leading two different workshops to round out this very full year. One is geared towards yoga teachers, but is open to practitioners, too; the other is geared towards yoga students, but is open to teachers, too. Both are offering tools to let go of what can't be done, sowing seeds of what can be done, instead.

Break it Down: Adapting Classical Yoga Postures For All Abilities with Talya and Lorien
Saturday, Oct 4, 1:00-4:00pm at MindBody Zone in Fremont, $45
Pre-register HERE


Yoga for Cancer Survivorship Workshop with Lorien
Saturday, Nov 8, 1:30-3:30pm at Samyama Yoga Center in Palo Alto, $35
Pre-register HERE

Whether you are a teacher or a practitioner, you will gain insight on how to use yoga as a tool to let go of what was and work with what is. I hope to see you there. Until then, enjoy the leaves!

Goals, Not Dreams

I recently watched a video of Australian artist Tim Minchin giving an address at Western Australia University, and I really resonated with what he calls his "nine life lessons". In this address he states,

"I advocate passionate dedication to the pursuit of short-term goals. Be micro-ambitious. Put your head down and work with pride on whatever is in front of you… you never know where you might end up. Just be aware that the next worthy pursuit will probably appear in your periphery. Which is why you should be careful of long-term dreams. If you focus too far in front of you, you won’t see the shiny thing out the corner of your eye."

You can watch the full video, below, and it's well worth the time. It's funny and insightful, and it came to me at exactly the right time.

Even as a child my dreams always had backup plans. Adults asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up and I replied, "Prima Ballerina." They they asked me what I would do if that didn't work out. I shrugged and responded, "I'll be a ballet teacher." I remember having those conversations as early as seven years old! I was never one to romanticize my dreams. I wasn't all that connected to them. In college, I went through four majors - all wildly different from each other. When I left engineering to teach yoga, I did so with the understanding that my path is a windy one, and to try to look around the corner will only lead me to suffering.

So, I adopted Mr. Minchin's philosophy of pouring my heart into whatever work lay in front of me, always staying open to what comes next, but never trying to force it. Which is how teaching yoga to people with cancer came about. I didn't actively seek this work, but once I devoted my heart to it, I found it really fit.

Back in December, I decided to set several goals for myself for the year 2014. I wrote about these goals as being "leaps" in the Year of the Horse. Today, I'm looking back on those goals:

In April, I led a training for yoga teachers who wish to work with people who have cancer. This 40-hour training was conducted mostly by myself, with some guest speakers. The teachers that I've studied with made it look so easy to lead, but I wasn't fooled; I knew it would be a bog task to organize, write and present the material in a way that made sense and lasting impressions. I learned some big lessons there, and will implement them when I run this program again next year.

In July, I went to Africa with my daughter and 17 other women for a yoga and service retreat. This trip across the world is still affecting me. I've written one blog about it here, but I'm sure there are more in me. I just haven't processed the experience fully yet.

This Saturday is the Pose for a Purpose Yoga Festival and Fundraiser at Vasona park in Los Gatos. Back in December, I had the idea to raise money for Cancer CAREpoint, and realized that I couldn't do it alone. I need to ask my friends for help. Asking is hard for me; it's a practice. It turns out that asking was the easiest part! People can be so generous. Not everyone, no. But 99%, which keeps me hopeful.

As of yesterday, we earned enough in festival ticket sales to cover our expenses - money that my husband and I have spent out of our pockets to make this event happen. You can imagine my relief! So now, all the ticket sales moving forward will be donated to Cancer CAREpoint, a nonprofit organization that make dealing with cancer just a little bit easier. This was the goal all along: to have money flow into Cancer CAREpoint. By passionately dedicating myself to this goal, it has become a reality.

I do have a glimpse of the next shining thing, as Minchin calls it, but I'll save that for another post...

Some people have big perspectives; they can hold their big dreams for a long time until they become reality. I prefer smaller goals, and the dogged discipline it takes to see them through.

To find out more about the festival, go to www.pose4apurpose.com.
To  find out more about Cancer CAREpoint, go to www.cancercarepoint.org.

Pose for a Purpose

A few years back, I saw a poster for a yoga festival in the park in Campbell. It featured several of my favorite teachers, and some I didn't yet know. I couldn't make the festival, but I remember thinking what a great idea! There are outdoor yoga festivals in San Francisco all the time, but this was the first one I remember seeing in my area.

Several years passed, but the seed of the yoga festival continued to germinate.

I had been volunteering for Cancer CAREpoint for years when we began discussing ways to raise funds and expand our programs. We originally connected because of the yoga for cancer survivorship classes that I teach. Cancer CAREpoint offers free services to people in the Silicon Valley area who are  dealing with cancer, no matter what their heal insurance status is, where they are being treated or what type of cancer they have been diagnosed with. Since I welcome the same population into my classes, it felt like the perfect fit - and it has been!

After working with them for some time, I realized that I wanted to do more. Suddenly, the idea of the yoga festival blossomed! I thought, if I could get some of my friends to donate some classes, we could raise a few thousand dollars for this nonprofit.

"Kindness Tree" logo,
When I Was Cold community

Six months later, and the idea has flourished! We currently have over 20 teachers who have agreed to donate their time to this cause, and an additional staff of 10 volunteers who have done everything to help me - from borrowing paddle boards to connecting me with sound crew, and all of the thousands of little details in between! I am so very fortunate to have these people to work with, because I have never planned anything this large before, and I'm so invested in making it a success.

What would a success mean?

I have several goals for this event:
1. People fall in love with practicing yoga outdoors.
2. People fall in love with the concept of practicing yoga as a service to others.
3. People learn about Cancer CAREpoint and uses their programs when a cancer diagnosis changes their lives.
4. We raise lots of money so that Cancer CAREpoint can continue their great work, and more:

• $15,000 raised will cover the expenses of the event, plus support the current programs
• $25,000 raised will support current programs, but for more people - we can offer a larger space for educational meetings
• $50,000 raised will expand programs and help us go to where people need us, instead of asking them to come to us

As I posted recently, I anticipate the next question is, What Can I Do? There are so many ways that you can get involved in this, but I'll only mention the top few. You are always welcome to tell me about other ways that might help.

To get involved:

• Buy a ticket; there are half-day and full-day tickets available, and there are Early Bird prices in effect right now. Once those limited tickets are sold out, the prices go up. Buy your tickets HERE.
• Spread the word; let all your friends and family know about the event. Vasona Lake Park is a wonderful venue, and we'll have classes on the lawn, the trails and the lake (on the stand-up paddle boards) to choose from. In addition, there will be live music, fitness demos, vendors and food trucks!
• Donate an item to our auction; we'll be holding a silent auction to help raise funds, so let us know if you have a service or item that might raise money. Contact Heidi to coordinate.
• Become a vendor; are you a local business looking to increase your customers and does your business fit the yoga student demographic? Contact Michelle asap to find out about becoming a vendor.
• Sponsor us; we are looking for all kinds of sponsors in all types of ways, and can offer several levels of promotional benefits. Contact Whitney or Lorien for more information.
• Volunteer; we need an army the day of the event to help with parking, registration, ushering classes, etc. Let Janine know if you're interested.

Why "for a purpose"?
Traditional yoga practices include the idea that all the postures, breathing and meditation are really tools to make us better able to serve others in the world. As I've written before, it doesn't matter if you can wrap your legs behind your head if you can't be kind to others around you. The more you practice, the clearer that becomes. We purify in order to see the truth, and the truth is,

"In the end, only kindness matters." (Jewel)

The Questions

Teaching yoga to people with chronic pain or people dealing with a cancer diagnosis affords me a unique opportunity to witness our universal desire to reduce suffering. The most common question asked by all populations is:

"What can I do?"

I decided to take some time to share the different circumstances that give rise to this question. You may find yourself among these, or not. Keep it in mind the next time you encounter someone suffering.

I am just out of surgery to have my cancer removed and I am so scared. I don't want to hurt myself, but I want to get back into my body and feel normal again. What can I do?

I'm in pain. Everything seems to make it worse, but sitting still makes me crazy. What can I do?

In some form or another, I get asked these questions nearly every week. Our bodies were made to move, but what if moving hurts, and what if that sensation is tied to fear? I don't pretend to know what these people are going through. So, more often than not, I say nothing right way. Instead, I breathe. I pause to connect with all my senses and then notice what I feel. I then ask them to do the same. Sometimes, that's all that is needed. They already know what to do and how to do it, and I am only a reminder.

My brain will tell me that hopelessness has an effect on immune system, and that there is always some movement or breathing practice that we can do. The act of doing something - anything - to participate in our own well-being goes a long way towards balancing the situation. I only let my brain tell me this once my heart has checked in, though, because this person may not want to hear it.

My loved one is in a really dark place. His cancer has returned and the outlook isn't good. What can I do?

Knowing when to step in and when to hold space for someone we love is a challenge that everyone in any relationship faces. When caregivers come to me, I usually address the caregiver's issues, because that is who is in front of me. Occasionally, they will ask me about their loved one. Most of the time, I advise them to do as I do: pause, breathe and notice what your heart says. Another way to look at this is to discern the difference between empathy and sympathy. Here is a great 2 minute animation that illustrates Brene Brown's lecture on understanding the difference:

What if my doctors missed something? What if it comes back? What can I do?

My pain is so mild today that I want to tackle everything that I'm not normally up for, but I'm afraid that I'll trigger a pain flare. What can I do?

After checking in with my breath, and asking that person to check in with their breath, I then reflect on what is true in this moment. When I'm working with my own pain, it's the same process: breathe, notice, discern. There are so many stories floating around in our minds and our bodies, and not all of them are true. What's important is to keep checking in, keep noticing what's true in this moment, and then this one. The only thing we can do is live every day with awareness.

Next month, my daughter and I will be taking a service trip to Malawi. ("Voluntourism" has come under fire lately, because there have been many situations that leave the area no better or worse off after the group has left; here is an article about "voluntourism".) The group that is going includes several yoga teachers and students. At our last meeting, one of our leaders asked us to reflect on the Yamas and Niyamas - behaviors listed in the Yoga Sutras, and use them as guidelines as we enter someone else's world. One of the reasons I'm so interested in being involved in this trip is that the leaders took a very service-minded approach in organizing it. At our first meeting, they spoke about how we won't know exactly what we'll be doing to help the village until closer to our departure date, because we want them to tell us what they need, rather than us assuming we know. It struck me that this is the same approach that I use in my work. I don't know what the Malawi people we meet may need. I have some thoughts, for sure, but I'm going with an open heart and the practice of pausing and breathing to see what are the answers to the question what can I do?

The Heart of the Matter

Photo: Alex E. Proimos

I have never been very good at sales. I've tried several times in my life, but I'm always uncomfortable and uneasy playing the role of the person who knows exactly what someone else needs.

When I was a kid, my friend talked me into selling candy with her from door to door; the idea was that we told the people who opened the door to us that the sales from the candy went to helping keep youth off the streets, but as it turns out, that wasn't entirely true: the youth we were supporting were ourselves, and the guys driving us around in his van took most of the money. I lasted one day on that job. As a teen, I was hired at an all-women's health club, and was promoted to sales, but only for the short time it took for the management to realize I had no aptitude for it. In college, I worked as a bank teller, and management would impress upon us the importance of getting our customers to open new accounts or subscribe to different services, all under the guise that it was better for them; when the bank held contests, I usually showed up last on the list.

In each of these examples (and many more in my life that I will spare you), I wasn't invested in what I was selling. But selling is certainly a part of my self-employment now. On a daily basis, I need to be promoting my classes, workshops, trainings and videos. I've gotten a little better at it, but it's still an ill fit for me, something like high-heeled shoes; I can pull them out and wear them for an occasion from time to time, but I'm going to kick them off as soon as I can.

What makes the selling both easier and harder is that I work with people with cancer. 

It's easier because I am wholly invested in my work. I can look back at my life and see a clear path through all the twists and turns that led me to this moment. From my grandmother's death 21 years ago, to my leaving the corporate engineering world, to the people who I attracted to my classes with my avid interest in how yoga heals, and so on.

When I am asked "Have you had a cancer diagnosis?" I reply, "no, but I've studied yoga for cancer in depth." In fact, the last four years I have been learning from teachers and doctors, as well as my students. I teach evidence-based practices, which means that there are medical studies behind everything that I do. More importantly, I observe how my students respond to the practices; how it makes them feel, what language I can use that is effective, which sequences lead to reports of improvement, etc. This is an ongoing endeavor, because new evidence comes out all the time, and I am continually working with my classes to incorporate it.

If someone is unsure about coming to class, I can easily talk about the benefits and how people respond, but it's much harder for me to sell myself as their teacher.

Photo: limowreck666

One reason for that is because it is cancer. It's important. It drags us right up to the Awful Truth that we avoid in countless and sometimes cruel ways: we are mortal. We all have an expiration date, and cancer has the reputation for taking us in a slow, painful way. I can't begin to understand what someone feels when they hear those life-changing words: you have cancer. I don't know what it's like to have to weigh treatment choices, manage countless doctor's appointments, investigate research, count out all the dates and memories that came before and wonder what comes next, deal with the unskilled reactions of people I love, or be suddenly thrust out of the club of the blissfully ignorant and onto the disease battlefield.

I can empathize, but I don't know, because I've never been diagnosed with cancer. And that makes it hard for me to tell people to trust me, to let me be their ambassador as they navigate their new world. In just a few moments of introduction, I need to convey to them that this is more than just my job, that I do take it seriously (even though we may laugh a lot!), and that there is nowhere else I'd rather be. With my voice, eyes and hands, I show them that I am present with their experience, that they are in control, and that we will navigate the yoga experience using the art of adaptation together.

Photo: Dionne Wilson

I am in service to people with cancer. 

It's at the heart of everything I do.

As long as I keep doing that, I don't really need to sell anything.

Naming Our (Cancer) Fears

“I don’t like that word,” she told me, handing me back a flyer for my upcoming yoga workshop. 

The flyer read Yoga for Cancer Survivors in big, bold letters.

“What word,” I asked. “… Cancer?”

“No,” she said, “survivor. What does that even mean? I didn’t survive cancer, I live with my cancer. Every day.”

Petra Lentz-Snow, practicing
in Death Valley

She is not alone. Many people are put off by the term survivor. Some don’t feel it applies to them until they are free of cancer, some feel it’s too heroic a term, especially compared to the countless loved ones who struggled and did not survive, and some identify more as a survivor of cancer treatment survivor than of their disease. The word cancer has many emotions tied to it, and so does the term survivor.

Some people view their cancer journey as a minor detour, while others see it as a life-changing turning point. One of my students continued to leave her hair very short, even after her chemotherapy was done and her hair had come back in. When I asked her why, she replied that she wanted a daily reminder to never return to her unbalanced way of life, which she believes attributed to her cancer diagnosis. She wanted a visual that would keep her perspective broad and her heart open, which is what her diagnosis did for her. Her cancer journey was a learning experience for her.

For those of us who live a life with goal-oriented action in mind, always striving for the next summit, perhaps at the expense of our health or emotional balance, a cancer diagnosis can be a turning point, and an opportunity to explore other ways to be in our world. 

I think the biggest reason why the word survivor prickles people is that it implies that the person is completely done with their cancer journey. To survive cancer means, in our minds at least, to be rid of it for good. Unfortunately, cancer doesn't always agree to stay gone. But to dwell on the idea that it may return affects our health and, ironically, our ability to keep it at bay.

So what name do we use?

In medical language, living with cancer refers to the time period between diagnosis and treatment, living though cancer refers to the treatment time period, and living beyond cancer refers to the time after treatment. 

“Do you think that a cancer diagnosis is inevitable, that we are all at risk?” A friend texted me one day. She was on a daunting cancer journey that quickly metastasized, and she was told that, even with treatment, her life would be cut short by cancer. If you look at the statistics predicting how many of us will receive a diagnosis, it is tempting to believe we will all have cancer at some point, and it’s also tempting to feel hopeless about it. I knew what she was really asking, so I answered that question instead: “I believe that we can live with cancer.” 

I want all my loved ones to do everything they can to tip the scales against cancer and in their own favor, including living without fear. But if we are to live with cancer and without fear, we must understand this disease and understand our own fears around it. When I told my friend that I believe we can live with cancer, I wasn’t meaning the medical term. I meant that we can learn to have a partnership with our cancer cells, through knowledge, acceptance and presence. We can recognize and defend against this disease’s opportunistic quality, we can accept life’s challenges and joys with equanimity and we can build stronger, deeper ties to our bodies, breath, mind and emotions, sinking into our present moment again and again.

“I see the partnership,” she replied. 

Last Thursday, she left this world. Without fear.