The Right Mindset: One Step at a Time

I have always believed strongly in mindset.  But I think it is important to add another word to that.

The right mindset.

Because mindset isn't automatically positive. Our thoughts can help us face what is in front of us, but they can also take us into fear, imagined futures and outcomes that haven't happened — and may never happen.

When I was diagnosed with cancer, I remember asking my oncologist about my chances of survival.  His response has stayed with me ever since.

“Cheryl, you have the right mind for it.”

He had a strong interest in Buddhist philosophy, so I understood what he meant.

• He wasn't telling me that positive thinking would cure cancer.

He was talking about how we face what is in front of us:

• To stay focused on life rather than impending dread.

• To deal with what was actually happening rather than everything that might happen.

• To stay in the here and now.

• And to take one step at a time.

I couldn't know what my future looked like

Perhaps one of the things cancer did for me was make me stop.  Life can become so busy and routine that we rush from one thing to the next, always thinking about where we're going rather than noticing where we actually are.

Cancer interrupted that.

Suddenly I couldn't simply assume I knew what came next. I had to slow down. To pay attention to where I was. To deal with what was in front of me rather than racing ahead to everything that might happen.  One appointment. One decision. One treatment. One day at a time.

I don't believe cancer happens to teach us lessons. But I do believe we can learn something from what happens to us.

Perhaps one of the things cancer taught me was to be more present in my own life. 

We hear a lot about positive thinking and visualising the future we want. There can be enormous value in having hopes, dreams and direction. But I've learned not to become too attached to the picture.

I certainly didn't visualise cancer being part of my future. And yet it was.

Life has a habit of interrupting the plans we make for it.  Something happens. Circumstances change. People arrive. People leave. Doors close and completely unexpected ones open.  That doesn't necessarily mean life has gone wrong.  Perhaps it is simply what is unfolding next.

I've come to see life much more as an adventure because of that.  I can have dreams, plans and a direction without needing to know exactly where the road will lead. And perhaps there isn't always a “right” path.  Some paths we choose. Others we find ourselves on through circumstances completely outside our control. Some are relatively smooth. Others are steep, rocky and extraordinarily difficult.  A difficult or unexpected path doesn't necessarily mean we're heading in the wrong direction.

Sometimes life simply takes us somewhere we could never have planned.

And when that happens, I don't have to work out the whole journey at once. I only need to deal with the step in front of me.

Protecting the space in my own mind

When I was facing cancer, I made a decision that probably wouldn't be right for everyone.  I didn't tell people what I was going through.  It wasn't because I didn't care about them or didn't value their support. 

• I knew what I needed in order to cope.

• I needed calm.

• I didn't want other people's panic, fear or predictions about what might happen becoming something else I had to carry.

• I had enough to deal with in the present without taking on everybody else's imagined future as well.

So, I protected that space.

• I concentrated on the next appointment.

• The next decision.

• The next treatment.

• The next day.

And somewhere underneath all of that was a quiet inner belief: I'll get through this.

I didn't know exactly what getting through would look like. I didn't need to.

Fear can be incredibly convincing

Fear often presents itself as protection.

• Don't do that.

• What if something happens?

• What if it gets worse?

• What if the cancer comes back?

• What if your lymphoedema progresses?

Some of those fears are understandable. Some require sensible precautions and professional advice.  But there is a difference between respecting risk and allowing fear to decide how much of our life we are prepared to live.  And I think this becomes particularly important after cancer.

We can survive the disease and then find ourselves living in fear of what might come next.

• Fear of recurrence.

• Fear of another condition.

• Fear of making the wrong decision.

• Fear of our own bodies.

• That isn't the future I wanted for myself.

The right mindset isn't pretending everything is fine

For me, mindset has never meant pretending difficult things aren't happening.  And it certainly isn't believing we can control everything that happens to us. 

We can't.

The right mindset is about recognising when fear or our own thinking is beginning to limit the life we are prepared to live.

It is about facing the reality in front of us — even when that reality is difficult — without adding every possible tomorrow to today's burden.

• Sometimes that means asking questions.

• Sometimes it means seeking another opinion.

• Sometimes it means accepting help.

• Sometimes it means protecting yourself from other people's fear.

• And sometimes it simply means getting up in the morning and dealing with today.

Perhaps that is one of the lessons cancer has given me.

• I don't need to know exactly what my future looks like.

• I can make plans. I can have dreams. I can work towards things that matter deeply to me.

• But I can also allow life to unfold.

There is something quite freeing about that.

One step at a time. One challenge at a time. One day at a time.

With a quiet belief somewhere inside that whatever comes next, I'll find my way through it.

And perhaps even discover something along the way that I could never have planned for.