Riding the Waves of Life

Breath doesn’t change the waves of life, but it changes how we meet them.

There is something deeply grounding about standing at the edge of the Atlantic Ocean, watching waves rise, crest, and crash onto the shore. The rhythm is familiar. Comforting. Powerful.

Life, much like the ocean, moves in waves.Some days, the water is calm and serene, gently lapping at our feet. Other days, the waves come crashing in with force, unannounced and overwhelming. We don’t get to choose the waves that come our way. But we do get to decide how we meet them. Breath doesn’t change the waves. It changes how we receive them.

As I prepare to leave the Atlantic and venture toward the Pacific Ocean, I am aware of this truth. Tamarindo is known for having some of the best surfing in the world. I am not a surfer. But I am someone who practices riding the waves of life. Surfers don’t fight the wave. They read it. They respect its power. They align their body and breath, trusting their ability to stay present as the wave carries them forward. In many ways, living well asks the same of us.

Through breath, I may not change the wave that arrives.But breath softens my response to it. It steadies my body. Breath gives me space between action and reaction. When life feels turbulent, breath reminds me that I am alive and I am grounded.

Wherever you find yourself today, may you remember this:You don’t need to control the ocean to stay afloat.Sometimes, it’s enough to breathe, trust, and ride the wave.

An Invitation to Breathe

As you watch this video of the waves, allow it to become a brief breathing practice. Let the sound and movement of the ocean guide you.

• Inhale slowly through your nose as a wave rises.• Exhale gently through your mouth as the wave breaks and returns to the sea.• Let your shoulders soften. Let your jaw unclench.

Continue for five slow breaths, or as long as feels supportive. The waves will continue to come and go.Your breath is always here to meet them.

Self-Care is the New Health Care

Tamarindo Beach - Costa Rica 2025

At the very beginning of Living Life Over Cancer, I wrote about the importance of foundational lessons. Any good teacher knows that learning requires repetition. Lessons need to be revisited, reflected upon, and lived in to take root. These five foundational practices continue to guide me. They can support anyone seeking optimal health or navigating a health challenge.

Living with stage IV breast cancer has required strength, resilience, and a willingness to learn and adapt. While many who read this may never face cancer, the lessons I’ve learned are universal and apply to how we all live our lives.

One of the most important lessons has been embracing an integrative approach to care. Medication is essential, but true well-being is through nourishment, movement, and practices that care for the whole person, mind, body, heart, and spirit.

Self-care has become non-negotiable. Whether through time in nature, meaningful connection, or quiet moments of rest, caring for oneself is not indulgent. It is necessary.

A strong support network matters deeply. Being surrounded by people who listen, encourage, and understand makes even the hardest days more manageable.

Mindset plays a pivotal role. Fear and sadness are part of the journey, but gratitude, perspective, and hope help sustain resilience. Finally, self-advocacy is essential. Asking questions, staying informed, and remembering that your voice matters can shape the quality of care and life itself.

As I prepare to take leave for Costa Rica, I hold these lessons close to my heart. Costa Rica is not a vacation. It is a life choice, rooted in honoring my needs and practicing self-care. While I will be in Costa Rica, I will continue to share reflections through Living Life Over Cancer and remain connected to my community through writing, consults, and ongoing support.

Self-care is the new health care.

What would it look like for you to honour your self-care in 2026 through your actions, your thinking, and your choices?

For Belinda, who walked beside me with honesty, tenderness, and light.

Some people come into our lives quietly and leave an imprint that never fades. Belinda Gramonte was one of those people.

We met through a shared journey of stage IV breast cancer, one none of us would choose, yet one that brought us into trusting friendship. Across miles, oceans, and time zones, we walked alongside one another with honesty, tenderness, and a commitment to finding light, even on the hardest days.

As I was writing RISE, Belinda was one of the voices who walked with me. Our daily check-ins became a place of truth. There was no need to show strength or offer reassurance. We showed up as we were, two women living alongside uncertainty, choosing connection over isolation.

Belinda had a way of seeing the world that continually reminded me to stay human, to lose my teacher voice, and to remain vulnerable. She challenged me to think beyond my own surroundings, to consider those living without access to nature’s comforts, and to remember that resilience does not always look like rising, but often looks like resting, trusting, and loving.

What I will carry forward is not the loss, but the gift. The gift of being seen. The gift of shared courage. The gift of friendship that knew no borders.

Though Belinda no longer walks beside me in the way she once did, her presence remains. In the work I do to live life over cancer. In the words I write. In the way I continue to seek pockets of light and love.

May her journey now be free of pain, fear, and struggle. May she be held in peace, and may her light continue to watch over all who loved her.

God speed, dear Belinda.