Anxiety has been a part of my life for as long as I can remember. It comes and goes, and just when I think I am done with it, here it is again. "Elle a un temperament anxieux"*, my mother used to say. The anxiety tends to strike most while I am driving on the freeway. Mini-panic attacks that seem to come out of the blue, and that I have learned to survive by focusing on the breath, and the touch points between hands and steering wheel, and feet against floor. And when that fails, I distract myself, by giving the mind something to do, like switching stations on the radio player. That usually does the trick.
From Mingyur Rinpoche, I have learned this about panic:
Tonight, sitting at my desk, writing this post, I can feel the anxiety rising again. There are no concurrent thoughts to disassemble with cognitive therapy techniques. Only buzzing energy to be aware of and befriend.
Meditating on the panic . . .
*She's got an anxious temperament.