There were two days last week when I really needed to push myself—and I mean push myself—to get out of bed. As you know, I am uber stressed and worried about my mom. Even though she’s doing great, this accident has changed her life in so many ways. I know she’d rather be shopping, or walking on the boardwalk, or at the casino, or having dinner with her friends; when in reality, she will be confined to a hospital room for at least ten or so more weeks, and then will be looking at another nine months to full recovery. And I have zero control over any of it.
Thankfully, the one thing I do have control over is my breathing. When I start down into the labyrinth of anxiety and worry, I know the only way out is by coming back to the breath. My savior.
So, next time you find yourself frenzied, panic-stricken, in a cyclone of worry, try to pause for a moment. Inhale. Feel the air as it slowly passes through each nostril, down the back of the throat, filling the belly and the chest. Pause. Exhale, feeling the air pass again slowly out through each nostril. Maybe even let out a sigh through the mouth. Let go and resign to the universe and to God, because whatever it is that has you in a tizzy is simply out of your hands.
Until next time…
Namaste with the breath. And remember to just keep letting shit go.