Meditation when life gives you something you cannot meditate away

I never imagined I would be writing something like this.

I am a meditation teacher. I spend a lot of my time helping other people slow down, breathe, and find steadiness when life feels overwhelming.

And now I am having to use those same practices for myself in a way I never expected.

Recently, I was diagnosed with Stage 4 breast cancer; it is aggressive.

When you hear something like that, life changes very quickly.

Your mind can immediately travel ahead of you. You think about your body differently. You think about time differently. You think about the future differently.

And even when you are trying to stay present, fear can simply arrive.

There is something very different about meditation when you are no longer meditating because life feels busy, stressful or overwhelming.

Sometimes life gives you something you simply cannot meditate away.

I cannot sit down, close my eyes and make cancer disappear.

I cannot breathe deeply enough to guarantee what happens next.

And meditation does not make me immune to fear.

But there is one thing meditation has given me that has become incredibly important during this experience:

The ability to just be.

To take one day at a time.

No expectations.

No finishing stories in my head about what might happen next.

No endless rumination about things I cannot know or control.

Just being.

Feeling.

Seeing.

Experiencing the day that is actually in front of me.

That may sound simple, but it feels enormous.

Our minds are very good at finishing stories before they have actually happened. We imagine conversations, outcomes, test results, treatments, possibilities and futures.

And suddenly we are emotionally living through something that hasn't even happened.

Meditation helps me notice when I am doing that.

It brings me back.

Not tomorrow. Not next month. Today.

When my mind wants to run ahead, I come back to what is here.

A breath.

A cup of coffee.

My dogs.

A conversation.

Something beautiful outside the window.

The feeling of simply being alive in this particular moment.

I am beginning to understand that meditation isn't always about finding peace.

Sometimes it is simply about finding this moment.

And when I feel frightened, I don't have to force myself to become unafraid before I can be still.

I can sit with fear.

I can sit with uncertainty.

I can sit with hope.

All of them can be here.

There can also be a strange pressure when you are dealing with serious illness to be strong, optimistic and positive all the time.

I don't think that is what healing asks of us.

For me, there are moments of hope and moments of fear. There are moments when I feel strong and moments when I am simply tired of thinking about cancer.

Meditation gives all of those parts of me somewhere to go.

Right now, my practice can be as simple as:

I am here.
I am breathing.
I am still alive today.

And today is where my life is actually happening.

Being a meditation teacher, this experience is also changing the way I understand the practice I teach.

I have always believed that meditation can help us find steadiness during difficult moments.

Now I am living that lesson in a much more personal way.

Every Wednesday, I offer a free live Healing Meditation through meditatewithme.ca. It is a space for anyone who needs to slow down, breathe, and simply be for a while.

You do not need to be dealing with cancer.

You may be carrying grief, fear, loneliness, stress, change, exhaustion, uncertainty—or simply more than feels manageable right now.

You don't have to arrive feeling calm.

You don't have to know how to meditate.

And you don't have to pretend that everything is okay.

You are welcome to come exactly as you are.

Join me Wednesdays for a free Healing Meditation at meditatewithme.ca.

I don't know exactly what this experience will teach me yet.

I am still living it.

And perhaps that is part of what I want to share—not because I have figured everything out, but because I am discovering what meditation looks like when you practice it in the middle of something you cannot control.

For me, right now, it is not about escaping what is happening.

It is about being here for my life while it is happening.

One day at a time.

No expectations.

No unfinished stories.

Just being, feeling, seeing—

and meeting this day as it comes.