Perhaps only
anxiety sufferers will understand this, but I read somewhere that you should do
something every day that scares you. That leaves me a long list of possible. Yesterday,
as I reported, I met an old/new friend for lunch. It took a bit of courage, and
I could so easily have opted out, pleading a migraine (no, I don’t have them)
or a stomach issue (yeah, sometimes) but I didn’t. Scariest part for me was
that I rarely go places alone these days but I did it, I hope with some grace.
Today I went to
the nursery with neighbor/good friend Greg, having warned him I was unsteady on
my feet. Again, I could have sent him with a shopping list but following my
conviction that one way to combat anxiety was to get out in the world, I went.
I was the most ungraceful person you ever saw getting into his jeep—but I did
it. I worried if they had places I could sit if my back gave out. “We’ll figure
something out,” he said. Greg takes life as it comes, with none of my
anticipatory worrying.
I left my cane
in the car because it falls out of the carts at the nursery—just held on to
Greg. We got a cart for me to push and went through the nursery, with him
saying, “Follow me this way.” I’m sure other customers thought how awful of him
to let that old lady push the cart and order her around. But I did follow him, we got everything on my
list (no basil), and my back didn’t bother me. As the checkout a helpful employee
tried to take my cart, and I said, “No, it’s my cane.” “Just trying to get it
out of the way,” he said. I replied, “Well, then you’d have to get me out of
the way because I’d be flat on the ground.”
The whole trip
was fun, we got all the herbs I wanted and some other plants so my porches are
in good shape. I sat on the front porch and then the deck while Greg planted
and had a thoroughly pleasant morning. So two days in a row I’ve made myself do
things I dreaded and had a great time both days.
Tonight I’m exhausted.
Jordan arrived late afternoon, rearranged all the books, and moved them back
into bookcases in the sunroom. I sorted as best I could and mostly watched.
Then she realized I hadn’t looked at the bookshelves flanking the fireplace, so
nothing would do but we check them. She works under the deadline of the book
dealer who’s coming Friday—and probably won’t take even a tenth of the books. I
have orders to sort one more carton and one bookshelf before tomorrow
afternoon. She is so organized and so full of energy—I’m grateful beyond
measure, but I’m sometimes a little tired.
Life is looking
good.
