Good times, good times

2022-11-25_11-25-07

Yesterday morning, walking the dog, I noticed the absence of a particular feeling that is usually with me, almost all the time: anxiety. It was just … gone. It’s absence was astonishing. I have become so accustomed to making it through my days while pushing against its tide. To tell the truth, it had come to seem entirely feasible that my anxiety has been integral to my personality and character, and that what I’ve accomplished in my writing career in particular was thanks to this undercurrent, almost ever-present, of anxious driving energy.

What did its absence mean? Would I still be myself, without a lingering certainty that something was going to wrong, that I was going to make a mistake? It’s what I’ve been pushing against, for years, I think. Its nervous buzz has motivated me to devote myself to yoga, meditation, journaling, running, and all the other lovely activities I enjoy so very much, and which feed me. There is not doubt they feed me. And, I realize, they feed me with or without anxiety’s hum running through my body.

I did a slow flow yoga on Tuesday night that was positively blissful, and in which I felt no pressure (interior or exterior) to do anything in any particular way, except to follow what felt good.

Here’s the funny part about this absence of anxiety: I have lots going on right now that could legitimately cause me to fret, stew, and otherwise send me into a spiral. And instead, I’m diving headlong into unknown territory, feeling a strange and unexpected delight. It reminds me of the change I experienced this summer, when the cold water of the lake seemed to call to me, come in, come in, this is quite wonderful!¬†And it was! I’ve gone years avoiding lake swimming altogether because the water was too cold, and I “hate” being cold.

Except, I don’t. Or not anymore. I think it’s wise to check in from time to time with those stories we’re telling ourselves, about who we are. I “hate” talking on the phone. Except I don’t. I like not knowing who will be on the other end when I pick up, and what they might need, and how I might be able to help them in some small way.

I’m working a new job (started last week), and I’ve thrown myself into the deep end. It’s been oddly soothing to see myself differently, again. To find comfort with discomfort, joy with challenge, discovery with each new environment explored.

I’d forgotten my adventuring self. She was there all along.

xo, Carrie

A wonderful review
What are your feelings telling you?

2 Comments

  1. Lucy

    Beatiful words….keep writing Carrie!
    You put into words what we readers feel and experience. It feels good to read your words! Thanks.
    Licy

    Reply

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