A look at anxiety in its many forms and manifestations; what is the nature of this specific pattern of extreme fear and worry?
Don’t Look Back.
“Don’t look back, keep walking. Maybe I should walk a little faster. No, that’s too obvious. What if I just... No, I can’t get rid of this now. In broad daylight? Definitely not.
B U R Y I N G
The sun has set. The spoon dripped honey. I let it pool on my tongue and it slid down my throat. It was thick and felt hot as it pooled, a sweetness beyond sugar, beyond gold.
4 Practices for those of us who psych ourselves into Morning Routine Anxiety
Do you overthink everything? Are you constantly wound tight? Ready for anything and everything to go wrong? Do you find that morning is particularly difficult for you? You may or may not be surprised to know that you aren't alone.
"Hey what're you drawing there, Sophi?" a young girl says to her sister, well laying on her bed. The older sister Leaning back against the bed the responds "oh nothing Iris, just some flowers I saw today well walking in our-"
It all came to a head on a beautiful crisp spring morning. My fiancée was driving. We both worked as independent contractors for financial firms and had recently relocated across the country to where the work was more plentiful. The move had been expensive, stressful and tiring, but ultimately we were very happy. We had met some great new friends, we were both earning good money, and we had our wedding planned for the end of the year. By all rights it should’ve been smooth sailing.
"Congratulations!" James continued reading aloud to his wife. "'You've won an all-expense paid trip to Paradise. Where you can put your feet up and just relax.' Yo baby, check this out! Literally all you have to do is just show up and you're in a $20,000 raffle!" James finished reading the pamphlet before plopping on the couch. "You think you can get that much time off from work?" His wife Debbie jokingly asks as she walks into the living room. James looks over his shoulder with a smug look on his face and answered, "Baby it's a weekend trip. Worse comes to worse I will call out of work on Friday. Plus, the program is on its last evaluation anyway, so they'll be fine." James and Debbie packed their bags and flew out to Las Vegas, Nevada that Friday for their luxurious vacation.
The man took a deep breath as he approached his son’s bedroom. He shook off the sense of shame as his massive hand engulfed the doorknob. Twenty-thousand dollars. If some of that comes from selling off his son’s things then so be it. Better than letting them stay here and collect dust. He opened the door and scanned the room for anything that could possibly turn a profit.
Feeling lopsided. Barney noted just two things in his small notebook. His daily assignment was to track lingering symptoms from his recent surgery. He was sitting in his unassuming room at Calbington Rehabilitation Facility looking out over the lawn. He watched as a strong wind blew the nearby forest back and forth.
The sun dressed my skin in the warm glow of morning. 19th July- Afternoon In a small coastal town situated in the lower-right quadrant of a bay, is the space I reside in. There is no-thing in particular that gives me a sense of belonging here, here was just what was. There is the coastal town itself, a former decorated resort before the war economic changes in the form of gradual decline and globalisation lead to travellers going further afield. All that remained; stayed and slowly over the course of time what stayed, ceased-defunct. There is an enigmatic property to these rural towns, some untapped history of value, hiding in the sheer red cliffs and the lumbering pines that overhang them these giants rise above the shore, mussels greet the tide from their sleepy seaweed digs against vivid red sands which give way to abyssal calm waters, contrasting themselves to an endless sky. At dawn the sun rises skyward from the ocean-depths taking its mantle on the horizon, directly above a holy-white aisle only a fool would think they could touch the altar.
The wind was sharp as knives against the bare parts of his face. The man tugged at the loose hanging edges of his scarf, tightening it. With every step the blistering cold night air pierced its way through the multiple layers of clothing he had tightly packaged himself in. Her could feel his fingers and toes start to burn despite the handmade knit socks and gloves he wore. His mother had made them for him two christmases ago.
The Gizmo That Worked
Jimmy Bartlett considered Dr. Davis’s words. He had doubts. It wasn’t that Jimmy had never heard the term “sleep apnea” before, but he was certain he did not have such a condition. He wasn’t obese. Sure had a few extra pounds, maybe 10 tops, but he wasn’t what he thought of as fat. He was sure only those who struggled with weight issues had sleep apnea. He never had trouble breathing, another condition that he had heard leads to sleep apnea. He wasn’t sure what to say and for a moment he didn’t think Dr. Davis was would say anything at all. So he just stared and tried to ignore how awkward he felt.
All Work and No Play Made Jack A Boring Yogi
I come to you directly off of the mat, after doing a Kemetic Sun Salutation three times through. The lesson that was given to me this morning was: