My friend who notices the early warning signs of depression tells me that one of the precursors—anxiety—is a liar. Oh, yes. No matter what anxiety tells you—the scenes of something bad; the mind not knowing, yet wanting desperately to know, to know, to know; the feeling of standing on the edge of a cliff—anxiety is a big liar. Just take a look at this present moment. This very moment.
This very moment, I am sitting on a chair. Do I feel safe in this chair? Yes, I rather like it. This very moment I am watching the snow. It is beautiful. If the mind goes to thoughts of driving, I rein it in. I’m not driving right now. My sweetie isn’t driving right this minute. The snow is beautiful. Yes, I just heard a story of a car doing a 360 on the state highway, but I wasn’t there to see it. I am safe.
I sit here in a comfortable chair, typing, and breathing. I am alive. I am safe.
Yes, if I look, I can see dozens, hundreds of things I don’t know. What will I be doing one minute from now? What will I have for dinner? Will I take a nap? Don’t know. And I don’t need to know. Life will take care of itself, as it has for the lasts several decades.
Is something bad going to happen? Who knows? But 97% of my life is pretty darn good. I breathe. I eat. I sleep—well, somewhat irregularly, like sometimes at 2 a.m. when i’m wake up and write. But I get enough sleep. I’m healthy enough. I have enough.
Relax into this very moment. Worry is a misuse of imagination, and so is anxiety. Anxiety isn’t as smart as it thinks it is. Anxiety is missing something. Anxiety is missing the fact that peace is in the present moment.
Take a look. Take a listen. Take a feel.
Don’t believe a word anxiety says. Anxiety is just a big liar.
