WORRY
Where do you begin and your worries end?
This is a river—a river of the mind. It exists for you and you alone. You can come to this river anytime you like. If you are carrying a lot and it feels like too much and you just need to let some of it go.
Is something pressing too hard there? Or weighing too much?
Come sit by your river. Or stand if you want to. Listen to the water and quiet yourself in the gentlest way. Take a deep breath. Feel the cold air going in, and the warm coming out.
Where is the worry, and what does it feel like? Is it like a heavy brick in your gut? Is it the size and shape of a stone planted in your side? Or is it a long flat ribbon that can be gently and patiently unspooled from the center of your chest? Maybe it’s a thread you unknot from between your eyes.
Can you take it out, and hold it in your hands? Careful now—be gentle. Bodies are fragile where they hold worry and it can be hard to say goodbye. Place your worry in the water and let the river provide comfort and release. Your river is wide and can handle as many as you have. You don’t need to rush. You take your time.
This is a good river. You’ve probably gathered that.
Of course, sometimes the worries come back. Worries are really good at that. And it’s hard to let them go. Feels like they need you and you need them in some way. Even if you want them out: they circle and they distract and maybe they irritate and they swarm. And we, in our infinite capacity to make the same silly mistakes, invite them back in.
Still, for now it’s nice to be here. Hand the worry over to your river and let it be carried away.
Is something pressing too hard there? Or weighing too much?
Come sit by your river. Or stand if you want to. Listen to the water and quiet yourself in the gentlest way. Take a deep breath. Feel the cold air going in, and the warm coming out.
Where is the worry, and what does it feel like? Is it like a heavy brick in your gut? Is it the size and shape of a stone planted in your side? Or is it a long flat ribbon that can be gently and patiently unspooled from the center of your chest? Maybe it’s a thread you unknot from between your eyes.
Can you take it out, and hold it in your hands? Careful now—be gentle. Bodies are fragile where they hold worry and it can be hard to say goodbye. Place your worry in the water and let the river provide comfort and release. Your river is wide and can handle as many as you have. You don’t need to rush. You take your time.
This is a good river. You’ve probably gathered that.
Of course, sometimes the worries come back. Worries are really good at that. And it’s hard to let them go. Feels like they need you and you need them in some way. Even if you want them out: they circle and they distract and maybe they irritate and they swarm. And we, in our infinite capacity to make the same silly mistakes, invite them back in.
Still, for now it’s nice to be here. Hand the worry over to your river and let it be carried away.