Yesterday, on one of the colder afternoons in January, I walked the dog and stared up at a purple sky swollen with clouds and sliced by city buildings and tree branches. Traffic filled my ears and the leash pulled at my fingers, stiff from the frigid shadows. The sun left too early and so I tried to call it back. A distant rain lingered on the horizon instead.
Whenever I'm feeling anxious or frazzled, nothing calms me like going and standing outside under a tree somewhere. There's something biological in breathing fresh air.
On your note of peace and worry, I think they both can exist simultaneously. My therapist has talked with me about the concept of radical acceptance, and I think that applies there. With an anxiety disorder, I've come to realize that my anxieties won't ever really go away - but I can train myself to recognize them and say "I feel anxious. I also know that I am ok."
So so good. The coexistence is profound—as is the idea that true peace is learning to recognize and feel the anxieties while still being okay. Thank you for sharing x
Whenever I'm feeling anxious or frazzled, nothing calms me like going and standing outside under a tree somewhere. There's something biological in breathing fresh air.
On your note of peace and worry, I think they both can exist simultaneously. My therapist has talked with me about the concept of radical acceptance, and I think that applies there. With an anxiety disorder, I've come to realize that my anxieties won't ever really go away - but I can train myself to recognize them and say "I feel anxious. I also know that I am ok."
So so good. The coexistence is profound—as is the idea that true peace is learning to recognize and feel the anxieties while still being okay. Thank you for sharing x