Ever have your stomach just drop out?
It’s an uncomfortable and uneasy feeling. And, this afternoon, on my lunch break, I sat in my car for fifteen minutes deep breathing trying to make that feeling go away.
There’s a nameless, faceless anxiety abound, and it’s tough to nab. Things are going my way, seemingly. Nothing is perfect, but, nothing is wrong. It’s a strange adjustment phase I suppose. That time where things are falling into place, so, as I drift down into my new routine, I have to deal with the discomfort of the fall before really easing in to it all.
Establishing a new routine is hard. I get set in my ways, easily. And, as much as I’m glad to be moving forward, there’s still that fear of the unknown. I’ve been putting forth such a great effort to be courageous and accepting. To do what’s in front of me. To be brave. And, those efforts have certainly been rewarded. I just have to remember that I can’t be perfect. I can’t even be perfect at attempting to be OK with being imperfect.
Life is life. It will always be a flux of comforts and discomforts.
So, today the best I can do is sit in my car and breathe. And there’s one thing I know for sure. On a day like today, when I feel the way I’m feeling, just breathing, it sure beats a glass of whiskey.