Take Care of You

I keep thinking about Cynthia, a former housemate I lived with in Bruxelles, Belgium.

She was American. Jet black hair, petite and pale white skin.

Cynthia stayed up late.

Like me, Cynthia was on an Erasmus in 2003 to spend a year abroad studying.

I think of her lately because when I met her I was suffering dreadful anxiety.

I was 21 years old, I had moved countries, broke up with my first love and recently experienced panic attacks.

Cynthia, on the other hand, was so relaxed.

Many a night when I couldn't sleep I would knock on her door, as she lived in the room below me.

We rented rooms in an art deco, three-story townhouse next to the university. Very Belgian.

The landlady was super elegant, she smoked these long cigarettes and had long red nails and coiffed hair.

We were all students there. From France, Italy, Amsterdam, Ireland and Greece.

Cynthia was the only American. She must have been very rich!

I would be sweating from a sense of fear, worried about having a panic, worried about not sleeping...this of course made it impossible to sleep.

And I would be relieved to arrive at Cynthia’s door and see her still awake...sometimes as late as 2am.

Maybe she was still on American time?

She would have music on and be rearranging her wardrobe, clothes all over the bed, a half empty bottle of wine.

I envied her lack of concern about time.

She wasn't worried about her sleep or how she might feel the next the day.

She was in the moment, present to what she was doing. Not a care in the world.

She would invite me in and make room on the bed where I would sit and listen to her stories about men, home and fitting into clothes.

I guess I think about Cynthia now as I see how I have become more like her.

My bed too is often covered in clothes, much to Maurizio’s despair, sometimes he will go home as it is easier to sleep there. 🤣

I enjoy my wine and don’t worry so much about the consequences, neither of food nor time.

Something shifted in me long ago when I learned that my experience of life was inside out.

Until then I was convinced my anxious feeling came from how much I had slept or what I ate and drank.

Hence I did not live relaxed.

My mind was terribly busy and as a result my heart was too.

Anxiety was my alarm bell for all I was going through and for all the ways my mind was scaring me.

I look back at myself with compassion.

And today I feel grateful to be more like Cynthia, more relaxed, less afraid of my experience.

More in awe at how the system works.

Now I understand how thought creates feeling and that the feeling will always let us know how we are using thought.

Wherever you are on this journey, maybe you are Cynthia or maybe you are 21-year-old Grace, take good care of you.

Your body is on your side even when the alarm bell gets loud.

And remember, sometimes the best cure is being with people who are totally relaxed and okay with their experience, even if they are doing the opposite to you!♥️