Rearranging the Current

Today I decided to embrace my anxiety.

Not conquer it.
Not silence it.
Rearrange it.

The world feels in such a state of rearranging that I assume the current is everywhere — humming through all of us. And after the heart flutter two months ago, I know I cannot ignore my own current anymore. I need to redirect it. I need to breathe.

So this morning, not for the first time — but for the first time in a while — I turned on my favorite meditation music, @maiteMarten on hand pan. I set my timer. I placed a bag of ice on my foot and a hot water bottle against my ribs.

(I could write an entire essay on hot water bottles. They are brilliant. Steady. European. Faithful.)

Anyway.

In my meditation, I count backward from 100 to 1. It took me days to learn how to do it without losing my place. But now I imagine myself climbing down a 101-step ladder.

When I reach 50, I feel my body soften. My shoulders lower. My breath deepens. I partly slide down the rest.

By the time I reach 10, I am somewhere else entirely.

I hang there for a few minutes — walking at the bottom of the ladder in soft grass. I dream. I wish. I create. I let ideas float in without grabbing them too quickly.

Then I enter my white room — the room in my mind that holds everything I’m building. It fills slowly with thoughts, plans, fragments of courage. When I’m ready, I climb back up to ten. I open my eyes. I begin my day.

I used to do this on my morning walks in Los Angeles. There was a magnificent view of the city, and from one particular spot I could look east toward the Getty. I would stand there, give myself ten, and something would reset inside me.

It made all the difference.

Today, during my descent, I thought about something small I once bought for my daughter as a stocking stuffer — a little three-pack of tinted lip creams from Goop. She loves them. Not just for the dreamy colors and rich texture, but for their compact size. Beautiful. Thoughtful. Just enough. They are now on her permanent wish list for any occasion.

I’ve always been a Westside girl at heart. The Brentwood Country Mart is a staple for me. But before there was Goop, there was Bellas Beauties, just across the parking lot.

One of my favorite memories is from that little shop. Gwyneth was there one afternoon with a friend. They were just girls — laughing, swatching, playing with products. The owner was as delighted as they were.

Years later, when Gwyneth launched Goop, I smiled. I thought of that afternoon. Of beginnings that look small. Of joy that doesn’t yet know it will become a business. Of friendship turning into something more.

An idea.
A passion.
A room that once existed only in someone’s imagination.

Maybe that’s what rearranging anxiety really is.

Not eliminating the current.
But standing inside it long enough to see what it might become.

still curious.