I spent the whole weekend hiking and hanging out with girlfriends.
I know I harp on about this, but it's really because somehow I always manage to forget it: when my brain does its little maya-based obsessiveness, I must. take care. of my body.
Sometimes I wake up in the morning and it all hits me like a ton of bricks: all of the parts of my life that make me uncomfortable rear their ugly heads as future possibilities, and my brain entertains itself trying to figure out how it's going to handle it all: whatif my job stays stagnant; whatif I don't get into grad school; whatif this person does/says/decides this; whatif my mother acts this way. These things are not real, but they feel necessary and important.
So I have to go outside and move my ass.
I walked around a lake today, and it was one of those dyed-green lakes that we have here in Arizona, but it was still pretty. My friend and I hurled rocks at the side of the canal. We sat on the sidewalk around the lake and watched the mallards dive for algae and insects, and every single one of those ducks was different and individual and irreplaceable, and each one of them made beautiful patterns in the water as they swum along, and I forgot about all the stupid shit I made up that doesn't matter and hasn't happened yet and probably won't happen ever.
And then we went for a four-mile walk and climbed A Mountain, and watched the planes come in overhead, and looked out at Phoenix, and my endorphins kicked in and I talked to my friend and everything is okay.
When my mind is hurting me, I need to remember to kick it out of the driver's seat and put my body in charge instead. My body lives in the real universe of stuff that is actually happening, and not in the made-up crap universe of stuff that could possibly happen.