A Curious Writing Habit To Lessen Anxiety

It’s Wednesday afternoon. I’m sat at my kitchen table with a coffee, having returned from my usual river walk and a wee daunder around town. The streets seemed busier than normal. I bought ‘thank you’ cards for my sister and boyfriend, who took time to read my novel and offer feedback. Fresh coffee warmed the air outside the café. A young family ate a picnic on the chilly benches. Folk were getting on with their lives despite the news that schools will close on Friday, potentially until autumn. Outside the chemist’s a sign warned against entering if you exhibited a cough, high temperature or shortness of breath. My chest constricted just reading that!

Now I’m sitting before my laptop, hands scrubbed, staring down a Word document. My fingers drum the keypad, anxious to write something, anything. Since finishing my novel I’ve been adrift. Even a little down. Gloomy thoughts paralyse me from tackling anything big. I start typing and the above paragraph is what came out, a log of an ordinary day, despite the background cycle of bad news.

When the epidemic makes tomorrow uncertain, the writer’s habit of watchfulness is a failsafe method for ‘keeping the head’.

I stop fretting over abstract unknowns and focus on daily certainties. Hadn’t I seen signs of spring; snowdrops and tulips, and flashes of sunlight on the drying green? Signs of an ancient, perpetual cycle that predates and outlives us.

Observation requires level-headed objectivity and an active curiosity. I engage with the world rather than getting overwhelmed by the noise in my head.

There’s also something about looking your worries in the eye that neutralises them.  Observantly recording reveals the positives that anxiety overshadowed. I had a laugh with the bakery manager about using docken leaves for toilet paper, my mum dropped off newspaper articles she thought I’d be interested in, and my boyfriend and I became so engrossed in a card game that we burned our tea.

My point in this post is to share a soothing habit for anxious minds. Observing means slowing down. It means paying attention to what is there, not leaping to worst case scenarios. It’s sitting by the window noticing pigeons roosting in the church spire or a neighbour’s spirited laugh. If nothing else you’ll have a diary of a very interesting time that will, in the end, pass into history.

I’ve noticed the key things folk need just now are connection and reassurance. I wondered what I could do to help. For me, there’s nothing more reassuring than a good story, so I’ll be updating my blog with as many short stories as possible. As more folk self-isolate it’s my hope that these stories will provide a morale boost. Please let me know what you’d like to read and I’ll see if I can make it happen! 😊