Quiet Sitting Helps

Thank you for this day.  I was hiking with my friend Daisy Denton yesterday, meaning we were strolling in nature, and she asked me how I keep from worrying, which struck me as funny at first since I think of myself as a worrier.  

But then I realized I actually haven’t been a worrier for a while.  So maybe all this woo woo and science science science stuff is working.  

Specifically Daisy asked how I keep from worrying in the context of when there’s a fire so close I can smell it or when it’s raining hard so the risk of deadly mudslide seems possible, likely, more than zero.

“How do you keep from worrying?”  She asked.

And I said what was my truth at the time, that I can’t afford to worry.  My tolerance for feeling bad has gotten so low that I won’t hang out in that state anymore.  

We have a plan. If I’m scared or nervous we can evacuate.  We are fortunate in that we can afford to go somewhere out of harm’s way for a day or two here and there, and that’s our priority.

Just knowing that’s the plan is helpful.  In our area, the people responsible for alerting us to danger, for doing official evacuations and voluntary evacuations are on it.  I’m pretty sure. I get phone alerts for that stuff.  

And I have permission to not wait for an official evacuation.  I have a partner who honors my psychological as well as physical safety.  

He says:  “There’s no requirement to wait to be officially evacuated.  If you don’t feel safe, if it’s unpleasantly smokey, you can go then.”

My evac plan is: Get the kid, get the cat, get out.  Everything else doesn’t matter.  Truthfully though I would like to bring my meds, my passport, my laptop, and chargers.  And fruit.  Ok, chocolate.  

So with a plan and permission to go I feel better staying put through the fear.  I’m not fighting the fear, I’m addressing it with respect and making a choice.  

Am I really in danger?  Is my family safe here?  Can I get to feeling safe here if I sit still for a minute?  Sit quietly and feel the waves of fear and sadness and hope and anger and all of it come and go.  Feel it all.  Thoughts run wild.  

And then the storm passes and I’m in that place where I’m not thinking, where I’m trusting, where I am safe and protected by something bigger than myself.  

And I can breathe again and take whatever action I’m gonna take from that grown up, okay place.  What’s best for me and for my family right now?  How do I want to walk through this day starting right now?  Quiet sitting helps.

I’m gonna keep going.