
As I sit in my bedroom, listening to the birds sing, the rain dropping on the roof, I smell the freshness in the air from the rain bath on the spring blossoms. Ah – this is one of the small, uneventful moments in time to enjoy and savor. But, it can very easily be rushed through without giving it the slightest bit of attention.
You see, you and I do that every day – we try to fill our days with to-do lists (real or imagined), always looking for something to occupy our time. We binge on Netflix, or TV shows, play the newest game – okay so, my son got my hooked on Animal Crossing on Nintendo Switch - look for projects around the house, spring cleaning or gardening. Now, there is nothing wrong with any of these things, except when they are used as a vehicle to numb our emotions and deny turmoil in our lives.
Dealing with the fear associated with Covid-19 as a person currently undergoing chemotherapy is a pretty stressful experience – if you allow it, the fear and anxiety can overtake your life. Yes, I am careful, I don’t go out, except for walks in the neighborhood and to my favorite non-crowded hiking trails, but the fear of the unknown is real. We see that daily in the news feeds.
I allowed the stress and anxiety to run amok with me the past few weeks. My last chemo treatment as an inpatient was stressful, afraid of every nurse and doctor that entered the room. Could they be carrying the virus? Were they exposed without knowing it? I wanted out of the hospital as fast as I could! But due to blowing my IV lines multiple times, (the ultrasound IV team and I are besties) I was there for over 30 hours. I pushed and got released at 12:30 in the morning – wanting to sleep in the comfort of my own bed and shake the anxiety that had a grip on me.
Now, my last chemo treatment is scheduled for next week, and I have a much better handle on my emotions by finally recognizing them, not ignoring them. Yes, I am at-risk with low immunity, but I trust my cancer care team and their ability and expertise in creating a safe place for me – letting go of my need to control the environment, and trust them. I can be calm in the storm by focusing and thriving on the present. Being a master of the unknown, because hey that is what I’ve been doing for the past two years in my cancer journey – and I am still thriving!
So, why the shift – how did I do this? Well, honestly it was my recent walk in the woods. It brought about a shift in my thinking. The parks have been so crowded I was fearful to venture out, but was able to go to a lesser known trail and just sit, listen, smell, and breathe. I felt so refreshed, renewed and happy after I got home. It reminded me of what brings me joy, how important it is to just breath, let go and breath.
Now, I am taking time each day to do what brings me joy. Looking for those special moments every day that I often rush through. Sitting in the backyard enjoying a cup of coffee in the morning, snuggling and playing with my puppies, walking and sitting in the woods, baking cookies, taking pictures, crafts or painting, enjoying a hot cup of tea (with a fresh baked cookie of course,) watching the sunset, and looking up to enjoy the night sky. I’m not doing these things with the goal to occupy time, but to experience time through the quiet reflection. A seemingly slight shift, but in reality, a monumental internal shift.
When I think about slowing down, quiet reflection, of noticing the small moments in time that bring you joy, I am reminded of the tea ceremony I experienced at the Bongeunsa Buddhist Temple in South Korea. This temple sits in the midst of the hustle and bustle of downtown Seoul, but when you enter the temple gates you feel a quiet shift.

The philosophy behind the tea ceremony is that each meeting should be treasured, for it can never be reproduced. Each meeting should be treasured – echoing my mind-shift of each moment should be treasured.
You practice mindfulness through brewing and drinking tea. When you drink tea, your five senses work at the same time. Your eyes see the color, ears hear the sound of water, nose smells the fragrance, the tongue tastes the flavor of the tea and your hands feel the warmth of the cup. The Book of Tea, a 1906 essay sums up the ceremony:
“It insulates purity and harmony, the mystery of mutual charity… It is essentially a worship of the Imperfect, as it is a tender attempt to accomplish something possible in this impossible thing we know as life.”
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