Pausing; slowing down; reflecting; writing, experiences that deeply nourish my soul, are stolen by my louder, more urgent, fear of not having enough time, and not getting all of my ‘work’ done. As the thought swell rises, I feel my chest tighten, my breath shortens, the space between thoughts getting smaller, and the all-too-familiar anxiety and irritability set in. I become a less expanded version of myself: stressed, tight, and withheld. Read More...