It’s 10:32 a.m.

The sweetness of morning swells, but my heart pounds—throat tightening, stomach clenching.

I try to leap out of the way, but it’s too late.

A menacing wave of worry crashes across my ankles.

As the clock ticks to 10:33, I’m almost fully submerged in the dark, salty waters of anxiety.

“I don’t have enough time today,” I repeat over and over again as the waves get bigger and bigger, threatening to flood my entire kitchen.

“There is no f*cking way I can get everything done,” also trickles into the mix as I try to keep my bobbing head above water.

Soon, these statements team up to create a chorus so catchy that I’m choking on lyrics completely designed to infect each and every crevice of my mind.

In the midst of this deep-sea madness, I rub my tired eyes.

Tears are tempting to fall and I realize there is an intense aching bubbling underneath the surface.

Suddenly, I know that there’s more to this terrifyingly oceanic, entirely unwanted morning-time story.

So, I pause.

And, I go where I’m needed:

My heart.

I stop, taking a full inhale, accompanied by an extra long exhale, becoming present to support myself.

The waves of worry continue to crash and cascade all around me, but I marry my breath to their ebb and flow.

What do I really mean when I say “I don’t have enough time?”

What do I really mean when I say “I can’t get everything done?”

I stop and ask these questions gently, but boldly.

Like unpeeling a stubborn orange, I dig in, removing the hard, waxy skin of my worry with intention.

Soon, answers are revealed:

I feel exhausted.

I feel afraid.

I feel vulnerable.

I feel helpless.

I take another cleansing breath.

Now I’m really getting to the juicy truth:

I feel so delicate and fragile that I’m scared to face the world today.

I don’t have a f*cking clue how to deal with this, but my soul knows.

I breathe so deeply, getting quiet now, opening now.

And, my sweet soul, well, she softly squeezes my hand and whispers, gentle as luscious lace: “I’m here for you. I want to help you. What can I do?”

I release a much-needed sigh from my trembling lips and a steady sprinkling of support and self-love dissolves the roots of my formerly out of control, time-based worry.

Suddenly, I open fiercely to myself, trusting fully that I will take good care of the fragile, bursting petals of my heart.

For a moment, I revel in this soft, blooming spaciousness.

Soon, crystalline clarity comes forth as the clouds clear, revealing a bright blue sky in my tender, beating heart.

I grab my sea-green journal, an inky blue pen, and begin jotting down what is absolutely, unquestionably vital to complete today.

I look at the list and smile for a second, realizing it doesn’t look so overwhelming.

With an extra serving of support to nourish my spirit, I know I can get through it.

And, if I can’t, that’s okay too.

Because my to-do list is important, sure, but it is not my number one priority.

It will never be my number one priority.

I am my number one priority.

Unquestionably.

Yes!

We need to always, always, always be at the very top of our ever-lengthy to-do lists.

Because when we elevate ourselves, celebrate ourselves, and support the f*ck out of ourselves, there is nothing we can’t accomplish.

So, the next time we start drowning in worry, swimming in anxiety and screaming that “ we don’t have enough time” there are other options:

We can choose self-love in the face of fear.

We can let our souls be our life-rafts.

We can water our spirits and nourish ourselves.

We can lend a helping hand to our heavy hearts and never look back.

 

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Author: Sarah Harvey

Editor: Ashleigh Hitchcock

Photo: flickr