I wasn’t sure if I should tell him the truth.
Yesterday was a bad day in a string of good days, which feels like a blizzard the first week of April. Aren’t we done with this?
By the time we connected at dinner, I had meditated three times, ran six miles, and had practiced every deep-breathing exercise I have learned in my mindfulness-based stress reduction (MBSR) course; however, my heart was still pounding with panic and my head was an ugly warzone. This is only a thought. Don’t fight the thought. Welcome the thought. The thought is not you. The thought is not reality.
Come evening, I was thoroughly exhausted.
Then I noticed Eric’s tired eyes.