I am a woman of few words, this morning. I woke ahead of the alarm – no surprise – but I woke gripped in a state of anxiety that was…remarkable, only I don’t have adequate words to describe it at all. It felt rather like this…
“Anxiety” 2011
It wasn’t a pleasant feeling. I could barely breath, and for the first few minutes of ‘consciousness’ it entirely commanded my attention and controlled my experience. I was nearly overwhelmed by panic at the momentary sensation accompanied by the thought “how can I take a few deep breaths when I am unable to breath??” and the vague urge to claw at the walls, the air, my flesh… anything… to find some way to make it stop. I was on the edging of screaming with terror… and there was just nothing at all ‘wrong’. I didn’t even have a recollection of being awakened by a noise, or having bad dreams. I simply woke – anxious.
As difficult as it seemed in the moment, I kept returning to the task of taking a couple deep relaxed breaths, full and easy and slow, committing to that and nothing more was itself an exercise in calming myself. I found a calm place within myself, and eventually put my feet on the floor, and got on with the day. A latte later and those anxious moments were a dim memory. Meditating first thing is huge on a morning like this one. Watering the summer garden before the sun rises beyond the horizon is as good for me as it is for the roses, and the seedlings in the greenhouse, and those precious moments connected with the earth and life beyond my own limited experience helped me get centered and find serenity. I’m even having a good day.
Is this really me? Did I wake that way, and still find my way here? How extraordinary…how precious…
Evening Light 