Anxiety tips to keep in your back pocket

I told my sister recently that I couldn't wait to have the baby, for many reasons, but partly so I could stop worrying. Worrying about eating the right things, not exercising too much, sleeping on my back, not drinking too much caffeine... you get it. Some women are cool and calm and relaxed and trust in the resiliency of babies. I try. I really do! But I also worry. 

She smiled at me and, in the most gentle older sister way she could say it, reminded me there might be a thing or two I worry about after the baby enters the world. It is, after all, pretty dang safe in utero. 

Eep. 

If you, like me, lean toward the anxious side of life, I thought I'd share a few grounding statements that have helped me cope with worry along the way. Whether you want to employ these during childrearing or life in general, it never hurts to have reassuring phrases in our back pockets.

Here's what I say to myself:

1. The worry I am feeling is normal. There is nothing wrong with me. 
2. I am doing something brave and scary. It's OK to feel overwhelmed. 
3. Sometimes, when we want something really badly, the stakes feel higher. It doesn't mean things are more likely to go wrong. It just means we want it badly. It's OK to want something so much it scares you.
4. I don't need to give in to anxiety today. I will sit with the reasons I am grateful. I will I watch the anxiety wash out to sea, like a wave leaving the beach, rushing back to the ocean. Goodbye anxiety :) 
5. Take a deep breath in. Release it. You are breathing out the fear. Watch it exit your body. Relax into the space its absence created.

I hope these help you as much as they help me!

Give It Time

It's four days until my due date and I'm sitting in our 86-degree house, writing as a fan blows across my face. I know we'll have to turn the air on when the baby comes home, but I always love that before-the-AC time of year. When the outside hits 91 and the inside follows closely behind. When it's almost unreasonable to sit in the heat, but the evenings give just enough reprieve to get by.

Chris bought me a Peace Lily for Valentine's Day this year. I potted it in February, never thinking it would still be alive in May. I thought it would be more like the tulips I buy at Trader Joe's, blooming in March and bidding us farewell in April. But here we are, 12 weeks later, and the lily dances in the breeze of the fan, its curly green leaves unrelenting. 

It's hard to believe it has only been 12 weeks since Valentine's Day, when that season of life feels so long ago. This winter was hard for us. Chris traveled constantly and I felt lonely here, attempting to make our new house feel like home without him. It was an unusually cold winter for Virginia, as it was most places, I hear. 

As spring finally arrived, things began to thaw out in our personal lives, too. We started making a few friends. We found a church that could be a fit. Blessedly, we stopped having to use GPS to get everywhere. We found rhythms - coffee shops we love, a routine in the gym, little pockets and corners of the city that began to feel familiar. 

When I first heard Laura Ingalls Wilde's quote, "home is the nicest word there is," a little part of my soul felt understood. Home has always been my favorite place in the world, but moving to a new city has helped me understand what home really means. To me, a big part of somewhere feeling like home is for it to be familiar and safe, and for me to be known there. Essentially, I need to know it and I need for it to know me.

We're still making this city feel like home for us, but as I sat in our house staring at our lily, I realized we're getting there. It takes time for something new to feel familiar. But just 12 weeks ago, when things felt raw and hard and lonely, I never would have believed how much life could change in just 84 days. 

I don't know what you're struggling with today. I don't know what kind of thick of it you're in. But know that things do get better. They get easier. Take it one step at a time. Count the fruit that you can see today, but keep pressing on toward tomorrow. These hard days - this winter you're in - won't last forever, my friend.

Your Decisions are Arrows

My freshman year of college, I attended The University of Chicago. Just weeks before packing up and shipping out, a friend's dad looked me in the eye and said: you're not going to like it there. It's not the right fit for you. 

I remember looking at him mostly confused and completely unsure of what to say. 

As it turns out, he was right. By spring break, I realized I needed to transfer. I loved my friends. I loved being on the swim team. But the school, on the whole, wasn't right for me. As I processed my paperwork and made plans to begin at Indiana in the fall, his words haunted me. Did everyone but me know this wasn't right all along? I wondered. Was it so obvious that I'd made the wrong choice? Should I be embarrassed that I'd made a mistake? 

What I couldn't see then that I know now is that starting there wasn't a mistake at all. It wasn't the wrong choice. It was the right choice based on the information I had at the time.

It was one that brought me amazing friendships and taught me a lot about how I like to learn and what I value. It also was the first time in my life that I experienced true sadness, which, although difficult, helped me develop as an adult. 

Sometimes we put so much pressure on ourselves to make the right choice that we end up paralyzed. Sometimes, the only wrong choice is inaction. One thing I know for sure is that absolutely nothing in life is wasted. Even the most wrong choices can be redeemed if we choose to learn and grow from them. 

Lately I've been looking at decisions as arrows. Every single one moves us in a direction. Instead of worrying so much about the finality or the rightness of them, what if we just asked ourselves what would be next if we were to follow that arrow? 

We put so much pressure ourselves to make the right decisions all of the time, but what if we looked at each one, not as a final answer, but as a single stepping stone, trusting the next one will appear when we need it to? It becomes less about right and wrong and more about where we want to go. 

When I quit my job, I knew it was the right choice at the time. The scary thing, though, was that I wasn't totally sure what was next. I knew quitting was a necessary step and would serve as a bridge to something. But I didn't know where I was going. I didn't know where that bridge would lead at all. As it turns out, quitting was the bridge that led me to  The Letter Project. And, in a few years, it may turn out that The Letter Project is a bridge to something else entirely.

My brother once told me that getting a tattoo made him realize he was taking life too seriously. He was so worried about getting the wrong tattoo - about messing it up and it being on his skin forever. It revealed to him how much pressure he was putting on himself to be perfect in his choices, because he was terrified of making a mistake. 

I suppose one could argue that a tattoo is rather final, but his insight meant a lot to me at the time. How risk averse am I and is that aversion keeping me still? 

It reminds me of a quote I read once, which, embedded in it says: buy the ticket, take the ride. The rest of the quote doesn't mean much to me, but I always think of this when I feel stuck in a decision. Just buy the ticket. Take the ride. Take a chance on yourself. Trust your gut. See where you end up. You might be surprised by how far you go.

A Few Things I'm Loving

Aside from the obvious, which is this summer-like heat we're having in Virginia (fourth day in a row of 90+ weather, YES!). A few other things I'm loving:

The Next Right Thing: This is a podcast from Emily P. Freeman. Honestly, I just love that they are super short and her voice is so soothing. I like to listen at the end of the work day as I walk around the block or start prepping dinner. It's detoxifying! 

My Nalgene: Is this so random or what? I left my Hydroflask in Indiana and my aunt is bringing it in a few weeks. In the meantime, I've been back on the Nalgene train, which I haven't been in years. It feels so happily high school and I'm loving it. 

Iced coffee with a dash of maple syrup and milk: The perfect afternoon indulgence! We love making iced coffee for the week in our Toddy and just made our first batch of the summer. Around 1:30, an iced coffee with just a bit of sweetness is the perfect after-lunch treat. 

Denim maternity shorts from A Pea in the Pod: The exact pair is sold out, but they have a handful of similar ones. I thought I'd want to wear dresses in this heat, but it's so nice to be able to throw on shorts and a loose tank. I highly recommend for any other summer pregnant friends! 

Lilac Girls: Actually, I am not sure if I love this yet, but want to hear what others think. It's SO sad. it really shows dark parts of humanity. Has anyone else read it? I don't think I can stop reading it now, but every night it's half addicting and half painful to read.