This Survivor’s Secret to Healing? Music, Mantras, and Mindset

When it comes to healing, science shows that mindset matters. A growing body of research in psychoneuroimmunology — the study of how the mind affects the immune system — reveals that optimism, social support, and emotional resilience can play a measurable role in physical recovery. One Harvard study even found that patients with a positive outlook reported better quality of life and experienced fewer symptoms during cancer treatment.

But let’s be clear: positivity isn’t about pretending everything’s okay. It’s about choosing faith when fear is loud. It’s about showing up, one imperfect day at a time, with grace, humor, and grit.

This is exactly what my high school friend Lindsey Bubar did when, at 35 years old, she was diagnosed with breast cancer.

This October — Breast Cancer Awareness Month — we’re sharing her story. Not just because she’s a survivor, but because she’s a teacher of what it means to meet darkness with light. Her journey is one of faith, fire, and the belief that healing happens in community.

When Life Throws You Everything at Once

In 2017, just a year after buying her family’s “forever home,” Lindsey was blindsided by a diagnosis she never saw coming: invasive ductal carcinoma — breast cancer. She was 35, with two young sons, and absolutely no family history of the disease.

“When I found what felt like a frozen chicken nugget in my breast,” she recalls, “cancer was the last thing on my mind.” But a few scans later, she found herself sitting in a small room with her husband Brett, staring at a piece of paper that changed everything.

Her first thought? Will I dance with my kids at their weddings?

Fear hit hard and fast. “I had moments of rage, vomit-inducing crying fits, and even times of quiet peaceful planning of my own services,” she admits. “Anyone who says they haven’t done that is lying.”

And yet, in that same breath, she found a mantra that carried her through.

“Keep it movin’ became our family motto,” she says. “Tired? Oh well. Keep it movin’. Don’t feel good? Keep it movin’. Discouraged by work or school? Keep it movin’.”

Healing Is a Team Sport

One of the most powerful protective factors in healing? Connection. Countless studies confirm that strong social support improves health outcomes and even extends survival in cancer patients. Lindsey lived this truth firsthand.

Lindsey credits much of her healing to her “tribe” — the family and friends who showed up in every possible way. “I have warriors, chiefs, people who would go to battle for me,” she says. “Whether it was a ride to treatment, a thoughtful gift of comfy clothes, a meal or 5, or just the sweet company and hard belly laughs—I was healed in part by those people.”

When it came time to share the news with her family, the reality of the diagnosis hit in a different way.

“On the day we received the news, we went straight to my parents to tell them in person, which felt unnatural and outside of how things are supposed to work in the cycle of life,” Lindsey explains. “The look on my parents’ faces said the same. With every phone call I made after that, it felt like I was making it up. Like I was saying lines from a script for a movie I was in.”

As treatment began to take its toll on her energy and appearance, Lindsay and Brett chose openness over pretending everything was fine.

“Whether I was too tired, not feeling well, or conversely was having a great day and wanted to take advantage of it, we kept those lines of communication open to manage expectations. It was about being honest with ourselves and those around us,” she shares.

That transparency didn’t weaken her — it grounded her. It gave her the space to be fully human in a moment that demanded so much more than strength.

When it came to talking with her kids, honesty was the anchor. “We didn’t want to cause unnecessary stress when it was still just testing,” she says. “But once treatment began, we were open about what I could and couldn’t do. We managed expectations and celebrated the good days.”

That communication became its own form of strength — a way to model resilience for her children without pretending everything was fine.

The Mind-Body Medicine We Don’t Talk About Enough

Lindsey learned what so many survivors come to understand: sometimes, strength looks nothing like stoicism.

“I learned that only I can change my negative self-talk,” she says. “If I want peace and healing, I have to believe I’ll receive it.”

She even found hope in the very place most people dread — treatment days. “As awful as chemo made me feel, I looked forward to those days,” she explains. “It was another opportunity to attack the mountain lion.”

Her advice for anyone going through a health challenge, or just a hard season of life: Assume this is as bad as it gets.

“Pray and believe that this is the bottom,” she says. “From here, it’s only healing, grace, and blessings from this point forward. Surround yourself with people who feed your soul and pray over you. There will be difficult days ahead, but you need to believe they are short and fleeting. Make the good days the best days.”

She also created space for the silly.

“During chemo, I played Beat It by Michael Jackson and told my three-year-old that was our ‘go away cancer’ song. We danced to it together like it was magic,” she shares.

And spoiler alert: it was kind of magic. Because movement and music aren’t just mood-boosters — they’re literal nervous system hacks. Dancing it out or blasting your favorite song doesn’t just feel good, it helps regulate stress, calm your body, and even boost your immune response. (Yep, science says so.)

Healing isn’t always green juice and meditations. Sometimes, it’s a dance party in the kitchen with your toddler.

What Life Looks Like Now

Eight years post-diagnosis, Lindsey is 43, working full-time in the health insurance space, raising two busy boys, and living with intention in East Longmeadow, Massachusetts.

“When people ask how I’m doing, I tell them, ‘My three metrics are being met — happy, healthy, employed.’”

She doesn’t pretend the fear of recurrence doesn’t exist — she just doesn’t let it take the lead. “It lives in a tiny mental drawer,” she says. “That chapter is over, that book is closed, and it’s been donated to a library halfway across the world.”

Instead, she focuses on the life she’s built — one that’s grounded in gratitude, perspective, and a whole lot of self-trust.

“I remind myself I’ve survived 100% of my bad days. Cancer couldn’t kill me, so what can?”

One Final Reminder: Just Listen

Lindsey continues to pay her journey forward by speaking with newly diagnosed women and offering words of encouragement. But she’s quick to remind others that no two cancer journeys are the same.

“The best thing you can do? Listen,” she says. “You don’t need to offer solutions. Just show up, pray, support, and hold space. That’s where the magic is.”