You Don't Have to Meditate. You Just Have to Feel Your Lips.
Most people I work with say the same thing when I mention mindfulness.
"I've tried meditation. I can't do it. My mind won't stop."
And I always say the same thing back: that's not a meditation problem. That's a body problem. You're trying to quiet the mind by working with the mind. That's like trying to calm a stormy sea by arguing with the waves.
What if the door wasn't through the mind at all?
What if it was through your left heel. The weight of your hand in your lap. The feeling of your ribcage moving as you breathe.
This is what I teach. Not meditation as a destination — but body sensation as the path that gets you there without you even noticing you've arrived.
The Body Is Already Present. You Just Have to Meet It There.
Here is something I know from years of working with bodies, in clinical settings and movement studios and quiet rooms with people who are tired of being at war with themselves:
The body does not time travel.
Your mind can be in last Tuesday or next month simultaneously. Your body cannot. It is always, only, generating sensation in this moment. Temperature. Pressure. Pulse. Weight. Tension. Ease.
This means that sensation — physical, ordinary, unglamorous sensation — is the most direct route to the present moment that exists. More direct than breath counting. More accessible than a mantra. It requires no training, no cushion, no app, no quiet room.
It just requires you to notice what is already happening in the physical structure you are living inside.
The Lips as a Portal
My very first break from my thoughts came from a Berts Bee’s lip shimmer. It gives the lips a little tingle. I sat under a fan on my back porch and felt the sensation of lips for 2 whole minutes. It was then I noticed that I did have some control over my thoughts.
You can do this with any body part, the lip tingle gave me the extra sensation to keep me on track. If you can start spending just a few seconds in this present moment. That it not nothing. That is the entire practice in miniature.
Sensation Is Not Analysis
This is the most important distinction I make with the people I work with, and I want to make it clearly here.
Noticing sensation is not the same as thinking about sensation.
My shoulder is tight — that is a thought.
The actual experience of tightness, the specific quality of it, where exactly it lives, whether it has a shape or a temperature or a grain to it — that is sensation. And sensation can only be met in real time. You cannot think your way into it. You have to feel your way in.
This distinction matters because most of us, when we try to "check in with our bodies," immediately convert sensation into narrative. My back hurts because I slept badly. My chest is tight because I'm stressed about that email. My stomach is off because I shouldn't have eaten that.
The narrative takes us straight back out of the body and into the mind.
The practice is to stay just one layer below the story. To feel the tightness without immediately explaining it. To notice the sensation before labelling it, judging it, or trying to fix it.
This is harder than it sounds. It is also, with practice, one of the most settling things a human being can do.
The Body as Teacher, Not Problem
What I have seen, again and again, is that when people begin to meet the body with curiosity instead of judgment — when they stop trying to fix sensation and start simply feeling it — something shifts. Not all at once. Gradually. The way a room warms up when you've been in it a while.
The body becomes less of an adversary and more of a source of information. Even in a body that has changed. Even in a body that is in pain. Even in a body that looks or feels different than it used to.
There is always something to feel. And the feeling itself — the simple act of noticing — is regulating. It tells the nervous system: we are here, we are paying attention, we are safe enough to be present.
That message, repeated often enough in small moments throughout a day, changes things.
Three Entry Points That Aren't Meditation
If sitting still and closing your eyes sounds like a setup for failure, start here instead:
1. Walking with weight. Next time you walk — even just from one room to another — feel each footfall. Heel, arch, ball, toes. Slow it down slightly. Notice the shift of weight from one foot to the other. This is a moving body scan, and it is enormously grounding. No gym required. No special walk. Just the hallway.
2. Temperature as anchor. Hold something warm — a cup, your own hands together — and just feel the heat. Or splash cold water on your wrists and notice the sensation fully for ten seconds. Temperature is one of the sharpest anchors to the present moment because it is immediate and impossible to imagine your way into. You either feel it or you don't.
3. The exhale pause. Not breathwork. Not controlled breathing. Just this: at the end of a natural exhale, before the inhale begins, pause for one or two seconds. Feel the stillness in that gap. The body at rest between breaths. That pause is a doorway. Most people find it far less activating than being told to "focus on the breath" because it is brief, passive, and requires no effort — only noticing.
And Then, Eventually, Meditation
Here is the thing about body-based presence practice: it quietly becomes meditation, without the resistance that the word carries.
When you spend time throughout your day dropping into sensation — even for thirty seconds at a time, even just your feet on the floor while the kettle boils — you are training the same muscle that formal meditation develops. The capacity to notice. To return. To be here.
After some weeks of this, people often find that sitting quietly for five minutes feels not like a challenge but like a relief. Like coming home to something familiar. The body has already been teaching them how. Meditation stops being a performance of calm and becomes simply an extension of what they've been doing all along.
“Elbow pain after breast cancer can trigger fear of recurrence. Learn how to distinguish biomechanical pain from red flags.”
Even the word sounds stinky, and to be honest, it’s not fair.
The arm pit is the crossroads of our upper extremity and trunk anatomy. We have big blood vessels and nerves passing through there. The axillary artery gives nutrition to shoulder, lateral thorax and the entire upper arm. The brachial plexus is a whole web of nerves that give power and sensation to the entire upper quarter. We have networks of lymph nodes working to drain toxins from our vessels that are biproducts of cellular metabolism. Muscles that support the shoulder, rib cage and shoulder blade, and tons of fascia live there. Fascia is a thick white connective tissue that holds things in place and potentially holds much more.
As we study fascia and the nervous system, we are learning that our fascia is a communication tool for our body. It needs the nervous system on board to stand down and relax or release. Fascia is an area that is being studied and one that I am very excited about.
The arm pit is a sacred place that holds many controls which our body depends on. It is stretchable, ticklish, detoxifying and one of our very best fleshy folds.
Cheers to your armpit and all the wonders that live there. 🦋
Armpits can become stiff, achy, burny after lymph node surgery, right away or sometimes years down the line. This is something that we can help through movement and manual therapy.
Follow my socials for a full armpit video series. Facebook, instagram, tik tok and linked in.
Fascia is a continuous connective tissue system that surrounds and connects muscles, organs, nerves, and vessels throughout the body. Rather than acting as isolated parts, the body functions as an integrated whole—and fascia is a key reason why.
Healthy fascia is adaptable, hydrated, and responsive to movement. When the system is exposed to stress, surgery, radiation, prolonged posture, repetitive movement, or emotional load, fascia can become restricted or less responsive. This can affect mobility, body awareness, circulation, and overall ease of movement.
For breast cancer survivors and women in midlife, fascial health becomes especially important. Changes in tissue, nervous system regulation, and movement patterns often require approaches that are gentle, intentional, and whole-body in nature.
Fascia and the Nervous System
Fascia is richly innervated with sensory receptors that communicate with the nervous system. This means fascial tissue plays a role not only in movement, but also in body awareness, regulation, and perception of safety.
Slow, intentional pressure and movement—such as myofascial release (MFR)—can:
- improve interoceptive awareness (how the body senses itself)
- support nervous system down-regulation
- reduce protective holding and guarding
- improve tolerance to movement and load
This is one reason why faster or aggressive approaches are not always effective for healing tissues. Fascia responds best to time, presence, and graded input.
Movement Across Planes Supports Fascial Health
Unlike muscles, fascia is designed to transmit force across the body in multiple directions. Daily life and traditional exercise often emphasize forward-and-back motion, but fascia thrives on variability.
Practices that include:
- rotation
- side bending
- spirals
- diagonal and asymmetrical loading
help maintain fascial glide and adaptability. Yoga, mindful movement, and manual therapy are especially effective at introducing this type of movement in a controlled, responsive way.
Myofascial Release: Supporting the System, Not Forcing Change
Myofascial release is not about breaking tissue or pushing through discomfort. It is about creating the conditions for change.
When pressure is applied slowly and intentionally, fascia has time to respond. The nervous system can interpret the input as safe, allowing tissue tone to shift without force.
Self–myofascial release can be a powerful tool when done with awareness, breath, and curiosity rather than intensity.
I’m a physical therapist. I’m also a breast cancer survivor.
And I’m going to say the quiet thing out loud: sex hurt—not aching, but burning.
And I’m going to say the quiet thing out loud: sex hurt—not aching, but burning.
If you’ve felt that hot, sandpapery sting when you try to be intimate, you’re not broken and you’re definitely not alone. Post-treatment hormone shifts (and some meds) can thin vaginal tissue, reduce natural lubrication, and make the pelvic floor brace defensively. The result for many of us? Dyspareunia—often described exactly like I felt it: burning.
What I tried first (and what I recommend as first-line)
As a clinician, I walk my talk. Before anything else, I did the non-hormonal basics that major guidelines recommend as first-line for survivors with genitourinary symptoms: high-quality vaginal moisturizers (not just lubricants), pH-balanced options, hyaluronic-acid gels, silicone and water-based lubes, breath-led pelvic floor relaxation, and paced graded exposure back to intimacy. These are the bedrock—and they should be where you start, too. Lippincott Williams & Wilkins+1
Why I purchased a Joylux
After months of doing all the above, I still had episodes of burning with penetration—less frequent, but stubborn. I decided to add Joylux (vFit) as a non-hormonal adjunct. It uses red-light (photobiomodulation), gentle heat, and sonic vibration. My clinical aim: support local circulation and tissue comfort while I continued pelvic floor reintegration and moisturizers. (To be clear, this is not a substitute for PT or medical care; it’s one tool in a larger plan.)
I look forward to reporting back on the change. I just started using the joylux this week. It was awkward at first but nice that I was in my own bed and comfortable. You do feel the warmth and vibration of the device. I framed it as a new body experience and worked on relaxing my pelvic floor and breathing. My second session two days later was easier and more enjoyable than the first.
- The device pairs with your phone and the beginner program is 6 minutes a session every other day, progressing to 8 min and then 10 min for 6 weeks.
- Maintenance is once weekly.
- Devices like Joylux can help some people, but they’re not magic. They are part of the puzzle of wellness
The estrogen question: “Is vaginal estrogen safe after breast cancer?”
Short answer: often, yes—after non-hormonal options fail and with your oncology team in the loop.
Longer answer: Here’s the evidence I share with patients, in plain English.
Longer answer: Here’s the evidence I share with patients, in plain English.
- Guideline consensus (ACOG): Start with non-hormonal therapies. If symptoms persist, low-dose vaginal estrogen may be used in people with a history of estrogen-dependent breast cancer, including those on tamoxifen. For those on aromatase inhibitors (AIs), it can still be considered via shared decision-making with your oncologist. ACOG+2PubMed+2
- Large Danish cohort (JNCI 2022): In 8,461 women with early ER+ breast cancer, vaginal estrogen therapy (VET) wasn’t linked to higher recurrence or mortality overall. A subgroup on VET + AI showed higher recurrence risk (not mortality), which is why the oncology conversation matters. OUP Academic+1
- UK/Scottish cohorts (JAMA Oncology 2023/24): Across two population datasets, no increase in breast-cancer–specific mortality with VET (authors acknowledge the Danish AI signal but didn’t see a mortality increase). PMC+1
- 2024 review (AJOG): Pooled observational data suggest no increase in recurrence or mortality with VET overall; nuance remains around concurrent AI use. PubMed+1
- Broader GSM guidance (NAMS 2020): Local therapies are effective for genitourinary syndrome of menopause; in survivors, coordinate with oncology. ISSWSH+1
How I frame the decision with patients
- Earnest non-hormonal trial first (4–8 weeks): moisturizers (regularly), lubricant for sex, pelvic PT, dilators as needed. Lippincott Williams & Wilkins
- If you’re still dealing with burning, discuss low-dose VET (e.g., 10 µg estradiol tablets, low-dose ring/cream) with your oncology team—especially if you’re on an AI. ACOG
- Monitor and individualize: lowest effective dose; re-evaluate symptoms and goals.
Final takeaways (from a PT who’s been there)
- Burning with sex after breast cancer is common and treatable.
- Start non-hormonal, add a device like Joylux if it fits your plan, and consider low-dose vaginal estrogen with your oncology team if symptoms persist.
- Healing isn’t linear. Give yourself compassion, time, and a plan.
If you want a personalized plan (and someone who truly gets it), I’d love to help.
References
ACOG Clinical Consensus (2021): Non-hormonal first; low-dose VET may be used after shared decision-making (special nuance for AI users). ACOG+1
Danish cohort, JNCI (2022): No overall recurrence/mortality increase with VET; recurrence signal with VET+AI subgroup. OUP Academic+1
- AJOG review (2024): Observational data suggest no increased recurrence or mortality with VET overall. PubMed
NAMS GSM Position Statement (2020): Effective local therapies; coordinate care for survivors.
