I have a lot of anxiety. I’m not sure if most people know that about me. Honestly, I’m not sure how you can be human in this world and not be anxious.
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For whatever reason, it tends to hit me this time of year a bit more noticeably. I call it the “February Feels” because I try to make light of it. But it doesn’t feel light. It feels like existential panic. Like I can’t breathe and my heart is being squeezed so tightly I can’t think about anything else but that contraction. I call it that too, because there’s no “thing” that’s causing it.
It just is.
I do a lot of things to fight it. Or deal with it. Or survive it, I guess.
I write. And I do yoga. I go for a run.
I eat chocolate in bed. I snuggle with my dog in bed. I call my sisters. I listen to poetry spoken by someone who’s Irish.
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I listen to Tibetan singing bowls. I clean the house. I dance in my kitchen. I write lists of what I’m grateful for.
I say reassuring things to myself. I say prayers. I have a meaningful conversation with someone I love. I binge watch sitcoms.
(Some years) I drink tequila. I take a walk outside. I dig in the dirt and hope something will grow.
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I am well versed in these strategies and games and I am lucky enough to have the time and privilege to use them. I am trained and I fight and I push back and it works, for awhile.
But it always comes back- that interminable to-do list. That visceral panic of being alive on this planet in this body. Like I am trapped and I can’t get out.
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So tonight I tried something new:
Inquiry. Curiosity. Hospitality.
I am tired of fighting so I decided to start asking, instead. I don’t have any answers and I don’t know that there is something to be fixed and so maybe even the questions are another way of fighting with a different weapon. Maybe it’s just the panic of the seed cracking open in the dark soil before tender green leaves shoot toward the light.
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I’m not sure.
I am still in process but I thought I’d share because maybe there is something here for all of us.
Questions I have for my anxiety-an open ended inquiry
What is this anxiety trying to teach me? Can I open to it? Can I let it be music? Instead of something to solve or send off?
Is it a portal?
What soft thing is it whispering? What in me needs to be seen/heard/tended to?
How can I create a feeling of safety in a world that ends in my death? What treasure is hidden in that fear that wants to be revealed? What can I integrate and accept?
Is the feeling/embodiment of safety even one I should be trying to create or learn or become? Is there a different way of being in the world that inspires more freedom?
Is it really a warning signal or something else? What tools do I need to gather to make something out of it? Does it want more acknowledgment?
Is it a creative force if I work with it instead of against it? How can I dive deeper-beyond the surface-level fear to inquire about the heart of the matter?
What needs to be turned off/restructured so I can listen and really hear? What needs to be let in or down? How can I make more room for it and give it enough space to breathe?
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Keep breathing folks. It is a panicky world to live in. I’m here too, panicking right along with ya.
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