Welcome.
This guided meditation is for family members,
Friends,
Loved ones who are caring for someone living with advanced cancer.
My name is Carrie Irish.
I am a meditation teacher and a clinical oncology social worker,
A psychotherapist who works with people impacted by cancer.
Let's begin by finding a position that feels as supportive as possible for your body right now.
You might be seated or lying down.
Either is absolutely fine.
Just allow yourself to choose whatever feels most comfortable and supportive for you today.
If it feels okay,
Gently close your eyes.
Or if that's not comfortable,
Just invite a soft gaze,
Perhaps cast downward at your lap or at the floor,
And let it rest on one spot.
Take a nice,
Slow,
Deep breath in through your nose and a long,
Easy breath out through your mouth.
Again,
Breathing in and breathing out.
And then just allowing the breath to come in its own natural rhythm and pace and depth.
No need for effort or control.
And just rest,
Knowing that there is nowhere else that you need to be right now.
And for these next few minutes,
You also don't need to be strong,
Prepared,
Or composed.
This time is for you.
And now bring your attention to where your body is supported.
Notice the feeling of the chair,
The sofa,
Bed,
Or the floor beneath you.
With your next breath in and out,
Invite and allow your shoulders to drop slightly.
And you might also invite a softening in your jaw,
A releasing of tension throughout your forehead and face.
With your next out breath,
Just allowing that release throughout the face.
Face and jaw.
And allowing your belly to be soft.
And clench and loosen your hands.
Just allowing the entire body to relax.
Caring for someone with advanced cancer often means living in a state of ongoing alertness.
Often balancing treatments,
Hope,
Uncertainty,
And present reality all at once.
Here,
In these moments,
During this meditation,
You can let your body and mind rest from holding all of that.
Loving and caring for someone with advanced cancer carries a particular kind of weight.
There may be time and also uncertainty about how much time.
There may be stability for now.
And also the knowledge that cure is not likely part of the picture.
You may be living both in the present and in a future that you don't want to imagine.
If it feels okay,
Silently acknowledge this truth.
This is a lot to carry.
Notice how that lands in your body.
There is no need to explain or justify it.
You may feel hope,
Gratitude,
And love.
You may also feel fear,
Anger,
Sadness,
Or anticipatory grief.
You may feel all of these things.
You may find moments of normalcy and moments when the reality feels overwhelming.
All of these experiences can exist together.
See if you can offer yourself this permission.
I am allowed to feel all of this.
You don't have to sort it out right now.
Right now,
You can just breathe and be.
Caregivers are often expected to stay positive,
Present,
And resilient,
Especially when their loved one is still living,
Still fighting,
Still here.
But here,
In this very moment,
You don't need to exert any will or to perform hope.
You don't need to manage anyone else's emotions.
You don't need to know how to do this perfectly.
With each exhale,
Imagine releasing the pressure to be okay.
You might silently say to yourself,
I can be honest with myself here.
And bring your attention to your breath now.
Notice the inhale as it arrives.
Notice the exhale as it leaves.
The breath continues without asking anything of you.
It's a reminder that even now,
Not everything depends on your effort.
Let the breath be just as it is.
And if it feels supportive,
You might place your hand over your heart or your belly,
Or one hand over each.
For a moment,
Just feel the warmth of your touch,
The steadiness of contact.
This is an act of care,
And self-care is not a luxury,
It's a necessity.
You might silently offer yourself these words,
I am doing the best I can in a difficult situation,
Or my needs matter too.
Let the words land softly.
I am doing the best that I can.
My needs matter.
Advanced cancer often means living with not yet and not forever at the same time.
There may be long stretches of caregiving,
Cycles of hope and disappointment,
Moments of joy threaded through grief.
See if you can acknowledge the endurance this requires.
Your fatigue makes sense.
Your tenderness makes sense.
You might say to yourself quietly,
This is hard and I'm still here.
This is hard and I'm still here.
Let's take these moments of rest for a few breaths,
Let yourself stop doing.
No anticipating,
No bracing,
Just breathing,
Just being.
Even a brief pause can be a form of restoration.
And as we prepare to close this practice today,
Notice how your mind,
Body and spirit feel right now.
There may be softness or heaviness or a sense of relief.
Simply awareness.
There is no right or wrong.
And let's take one more slow deep breath in and a steady breath out.
And when you're ready,
Gently bring some movement back into your fingers and toes.
And if your eyes are closed,
You might open them gently now.
And carry this message with you.
You are walking a path that requires courage,
Tenderness and stamina.
You are allowed to rest.
You are allowed to need support.
Your care and your humanity matter deeply.
Thank yourself for taking this time.
