It smothers me like a wet sheet on a windy clothesline. Yoga breath, in the nose, out the mouth. Breathe, breathe, breathe. I forget, holding my breath awaiting the storm to come.
My body shakes inside it’s self. Restless. Pacing. Can’t concentrate. Can’t focus on creative visualization or let myself drift.
My mind is a jumble of troubles; identified or no. There is a heaviness in my chest. A twisted turn in my stomach.
Mind and body; body and mind. Anxiety attacks and living anxious are powerful reminders of that.
The two must work together. Just as spirituality and the soul intertwine.