Fear can be more dangerous than any disease. It swipes our joy and tramples our hope. Days, weeks, even years can slip through your fingers. If left unchecked, fear will strangle every breath from our lives. I am constantly amazed by the many paradoxes in this gorgeous life. Why is it that we’re so scared to live and yet so afraid to die? We thirst for change and yet we choose to remain stuck. Trippy, right? How many of us dwell in that self-imposed purgatory? I know I’ve spent a good portion of my young life loping around and marking time, treating life as if it were a dress rehearsal and I was the understudy.
The first step in taking charge of your situation is to acknowledge the fear. Let it have its fifteen minutes (or more) of fame. What are you afraid of? Many of our fears are totally justified and need to be heard before they can be soothed. Those are healthy fears. Unhealthy fears are the ones that are purely negative and spread like an itchy VD. Those are the ones that need some TLC and a dab of cream!
Do a reality scan and have a come-to-JBEE (Jesus, Buddha, Elvis, Etc.) moment with yourself. Feel your body, hear your breath, ground yourself in the right now. Ask yourself if your fears are manageable or if they determine your every thought, word, and action. Allow the honest answer to come forward. If the response is a booming, “Yes, they rule my life,” then inner chaos is bound to clog you up. Few things are worse than soul constipation. It hurts and makes you feel cranky and fat.
The peace and calm of a collected mind can be yours, but it takes time and work. The doctor can’t prescribe a pill to make the terror go away, and Suzanne Somers won’t sell you serenity on QVC. Dial it down a notch and breathe. Throughout the day, stop yourself every time you get that belly surge—you know, the one that surfs your lunch back up on a wave of panic. Count to ten. On the inhale count one; on the exhale count one. Inhale two, exhale two, and so on.
Breathing and Visualization
Attaching a visual to your breathing increases your ability to regain control. Here’s an image that works for me: As I inhale I visualize golden sunlight warming and filling my body. The light is divine, it illuminates my corners and releases stored tension. As I exhale I imagine the darkness pouring out of my body like dirty water. This exercise is cleansing for me, a rebirth. My grime is absorbed into the ground as my body is rejuvenated by the healing God energy of the sun. What resonates with you? When we practice visualization on a regular basis we strengthen our ability to manage fear and pain.
Panic jump-starts those little party hats that sit on top of your kidneys known as adrenals. Back in the day when we were chased by lions, our adrenals encouraged us to run! Now they short-circuit dozens of times per day thanks to our stressful modern world. Add cancer to the stew, and your nerves are shot. Fight-or-flight hormones course through your system at dangerous levels on a regular basis. I don’t have to be a doctor to tell you it’s unhealthy to live in that space. How do you stop, drop, and roll? My posse gal Terri Cole uses an interesting technique. Check this out . . .
As a life coach and psychotherapist, a big part of my job is to help people make changes in their lives. I have found a very effective tool for stopping self-sabotaging behavior, whether it be weight loss, drug or alcohol addiction, or compulsive thoughts. I call it the rubber band trick. You place a loose rubber band around your wrist, and as soon as you are aware of a negative thought—a plan to eat the doughnut, drink the booze, meet up with X dealer, or arrange your funeral—you snap the rubber band and think stop. In therapeutic circles it is known as aversion therapy, and it’s a variation on cognitive behavioral therapy (CBT).
Although CBT is typically used to treat anxiety, depression, and other mental conditions, by adding a simple twist it can be used to break thought patterns and behaviors that don’t serve us. During my cancer experience and subsequent treatment, when I found myself falling into the scary what-ifs, I used this rubber band technique to stop the negative thought pattern and to shock my body and mind back to the present moment. The realization that I had the power to change my thoughts made me feel empowered and took the edge off my fear.
As human beings, we are wired to avoid pain. So once you associate negative scary thoughts or behavior with the mild pain of snapping the rubber band, gradually the behavior or thought pattern will dissipate, leaving you more brain space, time, and energy to focus on the much more important business of healing wonderful you.
There are no hard-and-fast rules on how to deal with a diagnosis. I wish I could give you a road map, but I can’t. When you’re newly diagnosed, everyone who loves you wigs out, not just you. Friendships shift (or tank). Family roles and dynamics change, sometimes forever. But you are not cancer.
Physical setbacks and hardship kick up a lot of stored emotions. Oftentimes these emotions, especially compacted anger, can slow down the healing process. Letting out the gunky junk might make you feel out of control, as if once the looting gremlins are out of the box all hell will break loose. Remember, feelings aren’t facts. Feelings are signposts. Read them and navigate accordingly (wear your seatbelt too, as it may be a turbulent ride).
Really listen to the whispers or bellows of your body. What are they telling you? Locate the area in your temple that feels neglected or isolated. Give that part a voice, a way to communicate with you. For example, when I do this exercise I imagine the quadruple six-pack of tumors that currently reside in my liver and lungs and I chat with them. Notice I said “currently reside.” I view the little suckers as temporary tutors, not permanent parasites. My tutors have a unique voice; they actually sound like Smurfs. Our periodic summit meetings clear the air and give us active marching orders. Here’s what they’ve said in the past: “I’m steaming mad!” At who? I say, About what, darling? Whoa you’d be surprised what vomits up and out. Let your Smurfs vent. They’ll feel better and so will you; because the healthiest way to dissolve the pain is to stare it in the eye and dance with it. See your truth, hear your truth, transform your truth. Resisting pain is like arm wrestling with a two-year-old. Your pain will fuss and freak and you will never truly win.
When we tighten from trauma, our energetic flow is constricted. Are there areas of your body that resist the glow? If so, spend a few minutes and consciously turn your attention inward. Take a deep breath and gaze upon the puss. What does it look like? If your body were a billboard, what would it say? Did you need to hit a wall in order to redirect your life? As you know, I’m not a mystic or a social worker; these are just some of the questions I’ve asked myself at various pit stops on my trip.
Now you ask. Start by looking inside your beautiful God pod and read that inner billboard.
Draw it.
Consider using crayons and stickers.
