Today, I thanked Anxiety. I asked her if she could step aside, let me deal with it.
“It” was finding myself having to address that person. You know the one. It’s hard to meet their eyes because of the taste that seeps into your cells. You don’t want to remember their existence, but there he is, there she is, alive and secreting the sour mind-stink that makes your mouth turn down and your anxiety turn up.
Sometimes, it’s not so much that person as it is the thing that person represents. Either way, you don’t want to admit them to your world, and you try to look away, to preserve your mental health.
I suppose I did have a choice. But making the choice to avoid him (we’ll say “him” this time around) carried other choices. Sometimes, when a situation is so far awry that addressing it makes you sick, the only way out is through, even when your anxiety tells you NO. Sometimes, you have to say words, you just have to, and he was the one who had to hear what I had to say. (A lot of had to going on, and it was hard.)
So, I breathed.
Lately, it’s happened that a few mindful breaths, now and then, pile up a space of wide, soft air all around me. Anxiety dissipates, and I understand how this meditation thing could work. There really is blue sky above all the clouds, and the clouds are so soft to lie on. They thread and swirl and braid in my easeful fingers.
For a moment today, I found myself up there in the blue sky. And, he was on the other side of my shiny ring of clouds, so blurred and insubstantial I could hardly see him. Fresh, clean air in my mind, and calm, clear certainty radiating from my gut. Lovely.
Anxiety wasn’t so sure I could do it.
She pointed and tensed and crouched, but I could see how small and helpless she was, although ready to fight to the death to protect me. So, I lifted her as gently as I could (claws like a spitting cat), and put her safely outside my shiny ring of clouds.
Thank you, Anxiety. I know how much you want to protect me, and I appreciate it. You’re always there to make sure I know the danger. You’ve done your job well! Now, I’m ready. I can do this on my own.
I did. It was good. Thank you Anxiety – I’ll never forget you! 😉
[Featured image by Neil H]