Tag: #BreastCancerJourney

The Four Dharma Principles for Peace and Clarity

In 2016, I found myself lying on my bathroom floor, utterly spent from yet another round of chemo. I was somewhere between exhaustion and sheer determination. I started listening to Yoga and the Dark Night of the Soul by Simon Haas on Audible. As I have already mentioned, I was searching for anxiety antidotes. That book opened the door to new possibilities. A new way of thinking and over time, a new way of being. Soon enough, I had The Book of Dharma lined up. It was set to be my next dose of inspiration.

As the YogiCFO, I aim to balance Dharma and Data. I thought now is a good time to introduce Dharma.

I was drawn to yoga when I heard it described as the “Science of the Mind.” This wasn’t about blind faith or dogma. It was about trying things out and seeing what worked. I kept only what resonated with me. That same spirit of experimentation drew me to dharma. In ancient Indian texts, dharma was the set of principles used to guide sovereigns in ruling wisely. And, after facing cancer, I came to realize I was my own “sovereign” in the truest sense. Cancer made one thing clear: every choice I made came with consequences, and only I could walk that journey. I wanted my decisions to be rooted in wisdom, not fear. I realised life was short, and prior to this, I was not really fulfilling my potential.

For me, dharma has been less of a rulebook and more of a compass, as Simon Haas describes it. It’s a way to navigate life with purpose by holding close four principles: Truth, Purity, Non-Violence, and Discipline. I’m not here to tell anyone else how to live. I can say that these principles have offered me a lifeline when I needed one. Through the storms of cancer treatment and chronic pain, facing the haunting fears of recurrence, and learning to find peace in solitude, dharma has been a gentle guide back to myself. Here’s how each principle has shown up for me.

Truth: The Art of Being Honest with Myself

Truth sounds straightforward, right? Just be honest. But after a cancer diagnosis, honesty takes on a new level. I convinced myself for a while that I was okay, that I was moving forward without fear. But if I was honest, I was living with a constant, nagging worry about recurrence. Truth, I learned, isn’t about pretending to be fearless or always having it together—it’s about admitting when I don’t.

These days, Truth means being real about my fears and not burying them under a mask of “I’m fine.” Sometimes, that’s admitting I’m scared or that I’m not okay. By acknowledging what’s really going on, I can acknowledge it, notice how it makes me feel and let it go. Truth, as it turns out, has been a source of freedom for me. It allows space for the parts of myself that need compassion. This is much better than denial.

Purity: Clearing Out the Clutter to Find Peace

Purity isn’t about some impossible level of perfection; it’s about clarity. For me, this principle became vital as I learned to manage chronic pain. Pain is exhausting—mentally, emotionally, physically. If I let my mind fill up with resentment, it only worsens the situation. Adding frustration is like fueling an already intense fire.

So, Purity for me is about letting go of that mental clutter and simplifying. I make time each day to clear my thoughts through meditation or writing. I let go of the “extras” that don’t serve me. Even physically, I’ve pared down my space to include only things that bring some peace or joy. Creating this clarity doesn’t make the pain go away. However, it allows me to be present with it. Instead of getting lost in the fog of frustration, I can face it directly. When I keep things clear, I feel a bit more in control. I feel this way even when the pain is out of my hands.

Non-Violence: Treating Myself with Kindness (and Forgiving the Not-So-Great Days)

Non-Violence, or Ahimsa, has been a real journey. It’s about compassion, both toward others and myself. This hasn’t come easily for me, especially when it comes to loneliness. Loneliness can make even the most grounded person feel off-kilter. But I’ve found that when I practice Non-Violence toward myself, I can transform loneliness into solitude. Solitude becomes a place where I can grow and find meaning instead of just feeling isolated.

Some days, that means I let myself rest rather than pushing through. Other days, it’s letting myself feel what I’m feeling without layering on guilt or criticism. And yes, some days it’s as simple as reaching out to a friend. I don’t have to sit with the feeling that I need to do it all alone. Non-Violence reminds me that I deserve kindness, even on the hardest days. This is one of the most powerful lessons I’ve found in dharma.

Discipline: Showing Up for Myself, No Matter What

Discipline used to feel rigid, all about self-control and willpower. But these days, discipline feels softer, like a commitment to myself. After cancer, I needed to rebuild my routines, to show up in ways that nurtured rather than depleted me. Discipline became my way of finding stability in the chaos.

Keeping a bedtime routine, doing my yoga, or sticking to my morning tea ritual are acts of discipline. They remind me I’m worth the effort. The small choices matter. Each one builds on the other. They create a foundation I can rely on even when life throws a curveball. Discipline isn’t about being harsh with myself. It’s about staying consistent with the things that help me feel grounded and whole. Over time, discipline enables freedom.

Living by Dharma as a Gentle Guide

As Haas explains, Dharma isn’t about rules. It’s more of a framework, a gentle guide that brings clarity and helps me focus on what really matters. I’m not here to preach. I won’t tell anyone else what to do. These four principles have offered me something I desperately needed: a way to live with intention. They help me stay present, choose peace over chaos, and show myself some compassion in the process.

The real beauty of dharma is that it doesn’t demand perfection. Some days I’ll nail it, and other days? Well, we all have those days. I realign with Truth, Purity, Non-Violence, and Discipline. Then I feel like I’m steering my life more purposefully. Life won’t ever be perfectly smooth. However, it feels a little lighter. It feels a little clearer. Life becomes much more manageable when I have these principles as my compass.

Finding Your Own Path

As Simon Haas explains, the power of dharma truly shines when all four principles—Truth, Purity, Non-Violence, and Discipline—work together, supporting each other to create a balanced and purposeful life. Each principle reinforces the others, guiding us to make choices with integrity, clarity, compassion, and commitment. If you’re curious about dharma, try engaging with each principle in small, manageable ways, observing how they resonate and complement each other in daily life. Or, you could read the book! The Book Of Dharma

You don’t need to dive in all at once; just allow these principles to be gentle reminders, guiding you towards choices that feel aligned. And if you feel like sharing, I’d love to hear how these ideas shape your journey. What practices or perspectives help you navigate your own path? Drop a comment below—I’d love to learn from your experiences, too. After all, we’re all finding our way, one choice at a time.

Post-Menopause: Embracing the Transition with Grace (and a Little Dose of Incredulity)

Hello, wonderful readers! Today, I’m diving into one of the more unexpected chapters of my life—a chapter that begins with cancer, weaves through chemo, and somehow ends up with me in the midst of early menopause, trying to make sense of what exactly happened to my body. Spoiler alert: I didn’t even realize I was in menopause until I’d survived 18 months of treatment and was left standing in the aftermath, blinking at a whole new reality.

How Cancer Treatment Masked Menopause

When I was first diagnosed with breast cancer, it was like being dropped into survival mode. Everything became about getting through the next treatment, the next day, the next moment. My treatment involved neo-adjuvant chemotherapy, multiple surgeries, and radiation—the full works. And during that time, my body was put through the wringer in ways that I was too focused on survival to fully process. There was hair loss, nausea, exhaustion, and let’s not forget the side effects that made me feel like I was living in a perpetual sauna.

It turns out, I was also going through early menopause. But between the chemo and radiation, I didn’t have the bandwidth to tell the difference. Hot flashes? They felt like just another side effect, blending right in with the sweats and flushes that chemo threw my way. I was simply trying to stay alive, holding on for my boys, and if menopause had decided to join the party, well, I didn’t exactly have an RSVP list.

Post-Treatment Realization

It wasn’t until I finished the 18 months of life-saving treatment that the reality of menopause hit me. Suddenly, there was a stillness, a strange sense of “What now?” After months of focusing on fighting for my life, I was left with the quiet realization that my body had changed dramatically. The hot flashes were still there, but now they didn’t come with the label of chemo side effects. The sleep disturbances, mood swings, and bone-deep exhaustion were harder to ignore, no longer hidden beneath the noise of treatment.

But perhaps the biggest revelation came in the form of anxiety. After everything I’d been through, I was left feeling like I was constantly on edge—heart pounding, mind racing. A well-meaning counselor gently suggested that I was likely experiencing anxiety. I remember blinking at her, completely incredulous. “Really? You think?” I replied, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice. “I just thought I was Type A and highly efficient.”

It turns out, trying to stay alive for my boys had taken its toll. Anxiety had become my default mode, and the idea of adding more medication to my already lengthy regimen didn’t sit well with me. So, I did what I knew best—I started researching, and that’s when I stumbled upon meditation. The idea of finding calm without a prescription was too appealing to pass up, and that simple quest to manage anxiety without medication eventually led me to yoga.

Yoga: My Path Back to Balance

Yoga didn’t come into my life as a graceful calling. It arrived as a lifeline—a way to bring my body and mind back into some kind of balance after months of fighting just to stay alive. It was the start of reconnecting with a body I’d felt disconnected from for far too long.

Breathwork (Pranayama): One of the first things I learned was Nadi Shodhana—alternate nostril breathing. In a world that had felt chaotic and overwhelming, this simple practice brought a sense of control. It didn’t matter if the hot flashes were from menopause or remnants of chemo—what mattered was that I had a way to breathe through them, to find my way back to myself, one breath at a time.

Restorative Yoga Poses: Physically, my body was exhausted. Restorative yoga became my haven—gentle movements that allowed me to honor what my body had been through, rather than push it further. Legs Up the Wall was a nightly ritual, and Child’s Pose reminded me that sometimes, surrender is the strongest thing you can do. I needed rest, not rigor, and yoga gave me permission to take that rest without guilt.

Mantra Meditation: Emotionally, I was still on that rollercoaster—sometimes feeling deep gratitude, other times overwhelmed by the smallest things. Meditation gave me a new tool, and my mantra became “I am enough.” It was a simple statement, but after months of battling cancer and then facing menopause, it was exactly what I needed: a reminder that, in all my imperfection and struggle, I was still enough.

Tips for Embracing the Transition (Especially When You Didn’t See It Coming)

So, if you find yourself thrown into menopause when you least expect it—whether by chemo, life, or some other curveball—here are a few things that helped me find some grace (and humor) in the chaos:

  1. Acknowledge What’s Happening: I spent a long time disconnected from my body, ignoring the signals it was sending me. One of the most powerful things I did was simply acknowledge, “Hey, I’m going through something big here.” Body scan meditations helped me reconnect—taking the time to feel each part of my body, without judgment, and recognizing what I needed.
  2. Breathe Like Your Life Depends on It (Because Sometimes It Feels Like It Does): 4-7-8 breathing became a lifeline when anxiety and hot flashes threatened to take over. Inhale for 4 counts, hold for 7, exhale for 8. It’s amazing how something as simple as breathing can pull you back from the edge.
  3. Rest Without Shame: Restorative yoga taught me that rest is not a luxury—it’s a necessity. Poses like Legs Up the Wall allowed me to let go of the day’s tension, and reminded me that after everything my body had been through, it deserved my care, not my criticism.
  4. Laugh at the Absurdity: Anxiety, menopause, hot flashes—it’s a lot. But finding humor in the absurdity of it all became my saving grace. Like the time I snapped at my well-meaning counselor because, yes, anxiety is kind of inevitable when you’re fighting cancer. Or the countless moments I woke up drenched in sweat and just had to laugh because, honestly, what else can you do?
  5. Embrace the Imperfection: I learned a lot about balance through Tree Pose—sometimes I could hold steady, and other times I wobbled or fell. And that’s okay. Embracing the imperfection, the fact that balance isn’t a destination but an ongoing practice, made all the difference. It’s not about being perfect—it’s about showing up, wobble and all.

Finding Grace, Even in the Unexpected

I wish I could say that early menopause has been a walk in the park, but the truth is, it’s been more like a stumble through unfamiliar terrain. The cancer treatment masked the symptoms, and by the time I realized what was happening, I was already in the thick of it. But through it all—through the anxiety, the sleepless nights, the endless waves of heat—I found moments of grace. I learned to reconnect with my body, to be patient with myself, and to find humor even in the most ridiculous moments.

Cancer forced me into survival mode, and menopause added another layer to that journey. But here I am, navigating it all, one breath, one yoga pose, one laugh at a time. And if there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that there is beauty in surviving, in learning to thrive, and in embracing every imperfect part of who we are.

So here’s to the next chapter—whatever it may bring. Here’s to acknowledging the struggle, finding humor where we can, and celebrating the fact that we’re still here, still enough, and still growing.