Processing Time!
“There is a tumor.”
Not exactly a sentence I ever expected to casually add to my life updates.
What makes it even weirder? I have zero symptoms. None. No headaches. No dramatic movie-scene collapse. No moment where I thought, “Hmm, something feels off.”
I felt completely fine.
And then suddenly I was a person who has a meningioma. Which is not a personality trait I was looking for.
Processing that has been… interesting.
There’s this strange in-between space after news like that. Life doesn’t immediately look different. I still wake up. I still walk my dogs (who, for the record, remain blissfully unaware of all medical plot twists). I still go to work. I still talk about hair and energy and what Netflix show everyone’s watching.
And yet.
Somewhere in the background of all of that is the sentence: “There is a tumor.”
I thought I would panic. I thought I’d spiral. I thought I’d Google myself into emotional ruin.
Instead, what showed up was something quieter.
If you’re familiar with Reiki, you know there are five simple principles. They’re beautifully uncomplicated. Almost suspiciously simple.
Just for today:
Do not anger.
Do not worry.
Be grateful.
Work diligently.
Be kind.
I didn’t realize how much I’d need those until now.
Just for today, do not worry.
Not “don’t worry ever again.” Just today. When my brain tries to sprint into every possible outcome, I bring it back. Today, in this exact moment, I am okay.
Just for today, do not anger.
Not at my body. Not at the randomness of it all. Not at the fact that I had zero warning signs. Anger might be understandable, but it doesn’t actually help me move through this. Acceptance does.
Be grateful.
For early detection. For amazing doctors. For answers instead of uncertainty. For the fact that my body wasn’t in crisis when this was found.
Work diligently.
Right now that looks like asking questions. Going to appointments. Taking care of myself. And yes, sometimes that looks like resting instead of pretending I’m unfazed.
Be kind.
To myself.
Processing doesn’t have to be loud. It doesn’t have to look like falling apart or bravely charging ahead. Sometimes it looks like folding laundry and suddenly remembering you have a brain tumor and needing a minute. Sometimes it looks like laughing because the sentence still feels unreal.
Reiki, for me, isn’t about something dramatic or mystical. It’s about regulating my nervous system. It’s about coming back into my body when my thoughts try to outrun reality. It’s about choosing where my attention goes.
Because energy follows attention.
So I’m choosing to stay here. In today. In the present. In the version of me who still feels completely like herself.
And if there’s one thing this season is teaching me, it’s this:
Just for today…
— Andie
