My Stomp, Stomp Mind

As I am dealing with some big health challenges, sometimes my mind gets really mad, stomping its foot and saying this is not fair. 

Sometimes my mind also: 

Feels envy of other people who seem to take their health for granted. 

Makes big things out of little things (chemo amplifies this). 

Pouts. It says why me, and this is all too much.    

At moments it becomes so overwhelmed it wants to just crawl under the covers forever. 

Follows the idea of being a victim like a dog chasing its tail. 

Gets anxious but judges itself for being scared. 

Wants to immerse itself in a bath of really fine chocolate. 

Is overtaken for moments by deep despair. 

Wants to get as far away from the despair even though it knows resisting only prolongs it. 

Tries to think its way out of the predicament, which only gets me caught more deeply in the quicksand of struggle. 

Is so noisy, my heart can’t get a word in edgewise. 

Before I started awakening, I didn’t want anybody to know I had those kinds of thoughts, but they are a part of being human. And they aren’t here just because I am having health challenges. These kinds of thoughts come and go for most of us, but they become more evident when you are dealing with big challenges.  

They are nothing to be ashamed of. I want to say that again. They are nothing to be ashamed of. This is just how minds talk, especially when they are scared. If you walked into a room where everybody’s thoughts could be heard over a loudspeaker, you would see what I am talking about.  

When I can recognize, with great compassion, the struggles in my mind and not take them personally, they pass through me much more quickly. And then I know: 

I can thank my mind for sharing its struggles, but I don’t have to follow it down the rabbit hole. 

Instead, it’s time to open my breath for when I am in struggle my breath is shallow and tight.  

These challenges are for me. They are tailor-made to show me how to unhook from struggle. 

Whatever I am experiencing is requesting the healing balm of my heart.  

Magic happens when I can soften and open around whatever is here. 

There is not one single part of me that doesn’t deserve to be met with kindness. 

My body needs the wisdom of my heart rather than the reactions of my mind. 

I am not alone in whatever pain I’m experiencing. There are millions of people at that moment who are also experiencing the same thing. 

There is help within me that is always available.   

The struggles in my mind are a dream laid over the diamond like perfection of the moment – no matter what it is.   

Thank you, cancer, for being my wise and benevolent (but sometimes fierce) teacher.