Violet Chaos

Mornings bring about instant chaos for me. The moment I open my eyes, my mind is a blur with noise and worry, an anxiousness that is sometimes brought about by a dream I just woke from or from a restless mind that already started thinking about the day before I was conscious. Either way, the fact remains the same: The first few moments of every day are often wrought with a sense of dread and a pressure on my chest that I have to be convinced to overcome.

I’m the only one who can do the convincing, though, so that makes things complicated.

One thing I have learned, however, is that the release of these thought-demons that plague my mind onto paper helps immensely. Once I touch pen to paper, I am able to extract the anxiety and place it somewhere for safe-keeping. Somewhere permanent, so that should I ever need to revisit it for any particular reason, I know it will be there. Tamed and managed, but accessible.

It’s a cathartic practice that frequently begins as utter chaos. My pen often has trouble keeping pace with my racing mind in the beginning, fragments of ideas and worry flying in from the left and right in a flurry.

Sometimes I cry.

Sometimes I find a source of pain I hadn’t previously been able to pinpoint, and as it reveals itself through the sloppy swirls on the page, a truth will hit me suddenly… and I cry. Quietly, alone in the morning, just me and my thoughts, a rush of emotion will come. A rush I wasn’t expecting. A rush that wasn’t necessarily welcomed but was very much needed.

Once the pen stops moving, my mind is still… it is then I am able to speak to my innermost self. I can say, “it’s okay,” and know it to be true. I take a deep breath, and I acknowledge my experience. The ritual is finished. My mind is clear; My anxiety extracted.

Only then can I find my peace to move forward.