The 5-4-3-2-1 method
What are 5 things I can see?
What are 4 things I can touch or feel?
What are 3 things I can hear?
What are 2 things I can smell?
What is 1 thing I can taste?
Lindsay Vlaminck, a board-certified nurse coach, shares the valuable lessons she's learned since starting a meditation practice after breast cancer treatment.
I was four years into cancer survivorship when I looked into the benefits of meditation. Although I had been grateful to get back to “normal life” after treatment, my life felt like it was moving at warp speed.
My days were packed with getting my kids ready for school, rushing off to work, moving mountains there, rushing home from work, the evening madness that is homework and dinner and showers and cleaning. Then, after putting my girls to bed, I felt exhausted and uncertain of where I spent my time in the 18 hours that had passed since I got out of bed that morning.
It left me wondering: Is this the life I fought so hard to be present for? Cancer treatment was so tough, and every time I wanted to give up, I kept imagining my future with my family. But this was not the life I romanticized.
I have always been someone on the go: Pursuing career goals, chasing the next hobby, or literally chasing after my children. Stillness made me physically uncomfortable. For most of my adult life, I placed my self-worth in my ability to be productive, to check things off the list, and for being a BOSS at getting stuff done. Meditation seemed to be the antithesis to this, yet I felt the need to quiet the news ticker constantly running through my head.
Meditation seemed really intimidating. I imagined serene photos of yogis sitting cross-legged on mountain tops, relishing in the stillness of the moment. How could I ever achieve that level of spiritual enlightenment when I could barely sit still most days?
So, in 2021 I found myself in a holistic nursing program that placed a heavy emphasis on mindfulness practices, and it was the perfect opportunity to introduce myself to the concept of meditation. I was intrigued, too, by all the benefits it provides: lower blood pressure, reduction in anxiety and worry, and reconnection and alignment with body and spirit. What did I have to lose?
Fast forward to almost two years later, I still consider myself a novice at the art of meditation. Some days I am able to clear my mind of the mental chatter and really feel present in the moment. Other days, the noise wins out. When I reflect back on how I started and where I am now, these are the top five lessons I have learned along the way.
All you need to start a meditation practice is a quiet space and the desire to try. The beauty of this is both are completely free and fairly easy to find. I found I enjoyed listening to guided meditation recordings before bed to wind down my thoughts for the day. While there are plenty of apps that you can pay for, a quick YouTube search will give you everything you need to get started.
One of the most common beginner meditations is called a body scan. This meditation walks you through connecting with the different parts of your body as you scan how each area feels. I enjoyed doing this meditation before bed because it allowed me to take inventory of how I was feeling physically, as well as releasing any tension I was feeling from the long day.
By doing this consistently, I began to feel much more connected to my body again. After going through chemo and surgery for breast cancer, I still felt somewhat disconnected from the body that cancer had left me. Doing this body scan meditation helped me to reconnect my mind with my body to feel whole again.
One of the biggest barriers to my meditation practice was an inability to stop the constant thoughts moving through my brain. I had believed that in order to be successful at meditation, your mind must be devoid of all thought. I quickly learned that this is not true, and even the most accomplished practitioners have lingering thoughts. They simply know how to manage them.
The best advice I was given is to treat your mind like a playful puppy. Puppies have very short attention spans and wander frequently where they don’t belong. You wouldn’t correct the puppy with judgement and harsh scolding, rather you would gently guide the puppy back to where they should be. We should treat our minds the same way.
When I would really struggle to clear my mind during a mindfulness session, I would feel frustrated and judgmental of my ability to remain in the present. I'd think: Why can’t I just focus on my breathing? Everyone else must be so much better at clearing their mind than I am. Why is this so hard?
Once I started thinking of my mind as a playful puppy, I was able to imagine my thoughts floating away like clouds. By treating myself with kindness instead of judgment, I remained more focused on the present moment and felt that level of deep relaxation.
Even once I was able to conquer the mental spaghetti in my brain, my body took a little longer to respond. As soon as I would get my mind to clear, restless energy in my legs would spread to my arms and my chest resulting in a feeling like I had decades of trapped energy that had to MOVE.
I would tell myself often to focus on the breath and imagine that energy leaving with every exhale, but the more still I tried to become, the more my body fought it. After discussing this with my instructor, her answer was simple: Then just get up and move.
Imagine my shock and surprise as this seemed counterintuitive to the picturesque mountain poses I mentioned previously. But that is the beauty of meditation, it doesn’t have to look a certain way, and part of a robust practice is listening to what your body is trying to tell you.
So, I started doing yoga poses during some guided meditations, and it felt really good. Then I started walking meditation, where I would quiet my mind and really focus on being present while out in nature. Or, I would put my phone away while eating lunch and savor every bite of my food. I quickly discovered that all of these activities made my meditation practice that much richer.
One of the biggest challenges I think we all face as cancer survivors is worry and anxiety about the future.
What if my cancer returns or progresses?
Worry is typically the result of the negative scenarios we imagine when thinking about our future. It’s rooted in the unknown. It is impossible to worry about our past because those events have already happened.
Meditation became a life hack for combating my worry and anxiety about the future. It’s hard to worry about the future when you train your brain to remain in the present.
If I found myself down the black hole of what-ifs, or if I was feeling anxious about an upcoming appointment, I would take ten minutes to be truly mindful in the moment. Acknowledging those scary thoughts with compassion and non-judgment, I would turn my attention to my current situation through the 5-4-3-2-1 method.
The 5-4-3-2-1 method
What are 5 things I can see?
What are 4 things I can touch or feel?
What are 3 things I can hear?
What are 2 things I can smell?
What is 1 thing I can taste?
By isolating each of my senses, I was able to slow down and be present in the moment. Seeing the sun coming through the window and listening to the birds outside brought me back from the shadows of the future and into the light of the present.
Lastly, one of the surprising benefits of mindfulness practices is improved focus and mental clarity. I continue to struggle with chemo brain and found that drowning out the mental chatter also helped me focus on the task at hand.
Multitasking is something I no longer wear as a badge of honor, and quite frankly, I am a more efficient and productive human when I focus on one task at a time. Meditation sharpened my ability to reduce distraction around me, allowing me the ripe environment to focus on the most important task in the moment.
While I have come a long way in my meditation practice since 2021, I recognize that this is a lifelong journey, and I will never be a master of my mind. But if cancer has taught me anything, it is the importance of relishing in the small, sometimes mundane, moments as they are happening.
I may never find myself cross-legged atop a mountain, but being right here, right now, is a pretty great place to be.
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The views and opinions of our bloggers represent the views and opinions of the bloggers alone and not those of Living Beyond Breast Cancer. Also understand that Living Beyond Breast Cancer does not medically review any information or content contained on, or distributed through, its blog and therefore does not endorse the accuracy or reliability of any such information or content. Through our blog, we merely seek to give individuals creative freedom to tell their stories. It is not a substitute for professional counseling or medical advice.
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