Anxiety, Again

It happened again.

Anxiety wrapped me up so tightly I must untangle myself with scribbles that you are kind enough to read.

Socializing leaves me aching with regret for the words I said wrong and the words I didn’t say.

I feel like a failure, even though I know that is a harsh conclusion, I feel it still.

I feel inept, like no matter what I do I won’t ever feel comfortable in social situations.

Even though I have undiagnosed autism spectrum disorder, as is more common in females. Even though I have worked painfully hard to hide my differentness, my social awkwardness rarely stays below ground for long.

In the game of whac-a-mole, the moles keep popping up no matter how many I whack.

Self-love, self-compassion, forgiveness, humor, perspective, reassurance that I belong in this human family, in this world, that I am enough, that I am worthy of love, as we all are: these are the treasures I have gathered along my journey.

These are the treasures I hope you find and cherish as well. They must be carefully cultivated, nourished and loved.

May you feel nourished and loved.

May you rest on the shores of peace.

Inhale what you need. Exhale what is no longer serving you.

All is well, even when we are under cloud cover, the clear sky remains above all.

For the duration of my whole life, the sun has never stopped shining- there were only times that I couldn’t see it.

The moon is a reminder of what I don’t see.

Maybe everybody feels this way sometimes, and it is normal and ok.

May I remember that I am blessed beyond measure even during the uncomfortable moments of this human journey.

Storms will rise, then pass.

May my breath be my anchor to weather me through until I see the sky of blue again.

The Color of Fear

I visualize fear in my body- a pale yellow space in my abdomen where my third-chakra should be. Fear is the hole through which the wind blows; the whims of others buffeting my core unapologetically as I give my power away with barely a hesitation.

I breathe into this space not to exhale my fear, but to join my breath with fear and thus transform fear into power.

The yellow acquires rich undertones and depth as it ripens and becomes full-bodied. My insecurity becomes my empowerment. My fear is my friend, not my foe.

I feel my strength take form, self-protection armed with experience, primed to use fear as fuel

Though I fail every day at saying no, I keep trying

I do not retreat from the world

Though I have not yet put words to my fear, I study it

My frozen mouth thaws around radical words like:

My feelings matter, my health matters, my time matters, my sleep matters, my sense of safety matters

I soak up the golden yellow light, burn some sage and turn the page