Practicing Mindfulness

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After my younger son died, I started reading a lot about near-death experiences and spirituality, which led me down the path toward meditation. It has helped me immensely. Part of me is trying to find my son in the now--in those quiet spaces during meditation. And sometimes I do. 

A book fell into my path called Mindfulness. It requires practicing (after all meditation is a practice) twice a day over the course of 8 weeks.  I love it and am wondering what will take its place once the 8 weeks are over. I look forward to the 20-minute, guided sessions twice a day. I wish I would have found time for this when my kiddo was alive. It would have made me appreciate the moments with him all that much more. 

I have also been exercising. I have done this anyway, even when both boys were little. But because my resting heart rate was easily 115 for such a long time, I decided to increase the number of days I exercise, as well as doing more cardio (I much prefer weight training). Now my resting heart rate has dropped into the upper 80s, despite the enormous amount of stress I'm still under, and I've lost 12 pounds. 

When I received my suspicious mammogram in July (before the biopsy the next day), I decided to cut all processed foods, refined sugars, coffee, and alcohol from my diet. I still occasionally have a half-glass of wine, have opted for dark chocolate if I want something sweet, and have eaten tortilla chips here and there with green salsa. But I now make sure I get at least 8 fruits and veggies a day. Red meat is off the menu. The Ninja blender hubby bought helps a lot. I make smoothies almost every day. And for protein, I've even made baked tofu. 

I continue to write. Not as much as I want to. But I do write every day. I've even taken up poetry again, which is really hard. I'm more of a fiction-type gal. Since my son's death early this year, I have published 6 books, with another one coming out at the end of this month--and hopefully 3 more out before the end of the year. 

Hubby had our piano tuned a few weeks ago. I took 10 years of piano lessons between 12 and 22 years old. I am reteaching myself how to play, especially the songs that remind me of my son. I'm really rusty, but it's also a meditative process. There's no letting my mind drift while I'm focused on the notes and chords. 

Overall, I feel pretty good--physically and spiritually. And I have a lot of support from my husband and my older son. 

But there are days when I want to slip into sadness and wear it like a robe while doing nothing at all. It would be so easy to do. It doesn't take much. I think of how I'll never get to kiss my younger son's cheeks again, see his smile, spend time with him in person, or hold his hand. All that's gone, and I often feel like I squandered my time in the busy-ness of life. I think of how long the road ahead with cancer is going to be. If it were just surgery, then it wouldn't be so bad. But because of the pathology of the cancer, I am now staring down a desolate 5-10 year road on hormone-blocking therapy that can bring with it some really nasty side effects (ones that can be both health and life threatening). But then I think of all the meds and surgeries and health problems my kiddo had, and how he did it with a smile on his face, and it makes me think I can do this, too. 

So I truly am trying to stay in the moment and not fret about what's to come. But it's hard. After all, our minds are notorious for wandering to the past or projecting to the future; worrying about things that have already happened or may or may not happen at all. All that's certain in this world is the now and change. 

So... how do you cope with loss? Or grief? How do you deal with seemingly negative issues that arise in your life? And if you meditate as a practice, what sort of meditations do you recommend?