It’s late Saturday night as I write this. Not my normal time to write at all. In fact, I’m not sure if I’ve ever written this late before. You know me right ? I’m an early bird.
But I felt compelled to write tonight, like the words were just overflowing from my head so I needed to get them down.
I’ve been back home for 4 days. Jet lag wasn’t so bad this time. In a weird way, I’m kinda grateful I got no sleep on the plane because it left me so exhausted, my tiredness beat my jet lag. I’ve had 4 nights of 10 hours sleep. It’s exactly what I needed. But the tiredness didn’t come from the flight, it came from almost 4 weeks of non-stop travel. From sleeping on couches and living out of a bag. From countless meetings and new connections. And work. So much work. All good, all moving in the right direction, but nonetheless a little manic. Spin inducing.
Hence for 4 big nights of sleep. The gentle re-entry into life back home. Purposely not really showing up on any radars just so I can get everything back in order, write a fresh to do list and take a deep breath.
But the reason I’m writing tonight? Anxiety.
I want to talk about it. Scratch that. I want to write about it.
I learned a big lesson in New York about anxiety and I wanted to share it with you. And, to be honest, I wanted to document it, so I could remind myself of it too. Because NYC feels like forever ago now.
So there I was, right at the start of a rad trip. Hanging in New York with my awesome sister. Celebrating her birthday and taking some much needed time just to hang out and have some fun. We walked a zillion miles, ate some insanely delicious food & went to a whole bunch of awesome classes (soul cycle, aerial yoga, yoga beats…. all the rad stuff that doesn’t exist on this little island). And on day three, as we’re walking through a particularly snowy Central Park, I find myself surrounded by noise. Not the sounds of the city. But the ridiculous monkey mind going on in my head.
It had been building all day, and I’d been resisting it the best I could. But it wasn’t working. It was like a constant barrage of negative thoughts. The kind of thoughts and words you would never say to a friend, but somehow say to yourself over and over again. Like a record player that’s stuck, but in another room, that you can’t get to. So all you can do is listen to it.
The thoughts? They were just the normal gremlins that show up for me when they see a space to fill. Making up all sorts of bullsh*t stories that leave me feeling completely and totally not-enough.
I remember the exact spot in the park where I just felt like doing anything, everything, to make the monkey mind stop. But instead, I turned to my sister, and said ‘Nat — I’m really struggling today….’.
She listened to everything I needed to say, and we stopped in a little cafe to grab a hot drink and just sit and let the conversation sink in. I realised that even just saying it out loud had made everything feel a bit lighter. We’d heard about this meditation space that had not long opened (it was on our list of stuff to check out whilst we were in the city), so she said ‘Why don’t we go there now? Seems like the right time huh ?’.
I nodded. Feeling beyond grateful to be with her in that moment.
We made our way across town and found the studio. It was late afternoon so it was crazy busy outside and starting to get really freaking cold. We walked down the stairs and into a blissfully quiet & calm space. We slipped off our shoes, walked past an intriguing bookcase and a whole bunch of plants and made our way to the front desk. Everyone was whispering. No one was attached to a mobile phone. People were hanging out, drinking tea, reading books and just simply being.
We signed up for the next class and sat amongst the other folk, in silence, slowing everything down. I breathed a little deeper.
What came next was a simple, guided 30-minute meditation. Sat in a beautiful, still room with a bunch of people who had also decided they needed a little pause in their day. The class was focused on intention, and so I leaned in and gently reminded myself that the universe had my back.
Half an hour later we walked back out into the madness that is rush hour Manhattan. But something was different. Something big had shifted. I felt lighter, but at the same time, more anchored and grounded than I had in a long time. I was breathing deeper, feeling more present, soaking in everything around me and being grateful for what is, rather than fixating on what isn’t.
We found a place to eat, sat down and just took a moment to reflect on how powerful that 30 minutes had been. Recognising how my whole perspective had changed. How life seemed calmer, sweeter and full of more possibility than I had been imagining before. To be honest, it was pretty mind-blowing how radical the shift was.
So here I am, almost a month on, after a whirlwind trip. Back home and in need of finding that stillness again. Wanting to connect to the grounded feeling that the universe has my back and that I’m exactly where I need to be. So I figured I would explore that moment again: The window of time when I shifted from total anxiety to total presence. From panic to happy stillness. And try and understand how it happened so I can remember it like a favourite recipe whenever I need it. Here goes :
Surrender to it — I guess the first thing I did was surrender to it. Completely. I remember the exact spot in the park where I felt like I could have just laid down on the ground and let it take over. I’d spent the best part of the day resisting it, fighting it, trying to quieten my mind and stop feeling the way I was feeling. But guess what ? That was making it worse. So I just surrendered to it. Let the feelings come in.
Voice it — Then I found the courage to tell my sister. I remember thinking, you can’t tell her, you’ll ruin her day. But then realising that me not being stoked or present was probably going to ruin her day anyway. Voicing it felt good. I didn’t dive deep into it — Just told her how I was feeling and why I was feeling it. We talked it out a little — and in doing so, something lifted.
Get still — This is the magic that happened in the meditation class. But you don’t need to be in some fancy pants studio in NY to make that happen. To be honest, it was the space that was created that had the biggest impact. Zero distractions, zero technology and a willingness to just sit and be. The 30 minute class went by in what seemed like 2 minutes, but then again, it felt like a lifetime. All I know is that I felt like a totally different human being when I walked out the door.
Breathe — Yep, it always comes back to the breath. It’s the thing we all do 24/7 but hardly ever do with any kind of intention. And that’s what makes all the difference. Breathing in deep and letting everything else just fall to the side. It seems kinda ridiculous that something so simple can have such a big impact, but it really really does.
Drop the story — Ok so this is a bonus lesson — One that came after the meditation class actually. I was so zenned out (that’s a word right ?!) that I found myself drawn to a bookcase with books that all the meditation teachers recommended. The books that had inspired/influenced their own journeys. And there sat a little yellow book by the founder of the studio (Lodro Rinzler) called Sit Like a Buddha. I went over to the quiet front desk (a front desk where everyone whispers ? dreamy), handed over some cash and started flicking through. 24 hours later and I’d devoured the whole thing. It’s the kind of book I know I’ll pick up and read again and again. But there was one lesson in particular that kinda blew me away. A lightbulb moment that has helped me countless times already (and it’s only been four weeks !). Here it is :Drop the story line. Understand that what needs to be sat with, opened up, is the emotion that sits beneath the story. Be present with the emotion that shows up, but let go of all the bullshit past/future stories you’re telling yourself. This one little tip has been monumental for me — because the story is where all the drama lies. The story is where it feels uncontrollable and panicky. But the emotion without a story attached to it ? Hmm, it feels like a cloud passing through. Much easier to sit with and breathe into.
So there you have it, five super simple steps to take when anxiety has it’s sucky grip on you. I’ve written these as much for me as I have for you. Sometimes I have to write this stuff down in order to fully absorb it. It might sound kooky but I have no doubt that I’ll bookmark this so I can come back and read it again.