Hello Again Anxiety

As I softly open my eyes, a familiar flutter returns to the center of my chest. Hello again, you quiet messenger of anxiety. Long lost since autumn, I must admit—I haven’t missed you. Yet I have thought of you often. Wondering when you would arrive, uninvited yet always timely.

Now I understand: you never arrive unannounced. You are rhythmic. A pulse within the seasons. A gentle nudge, reminding me to return to care—to purpose. If I ignore you, you grow louder. You knock until I must answer. I’ve learned not to cast you out, but to sit with you across the room.

You are still kinder than Anger, who barrels through without notice, destroying everything in his path. But you, you flutter your wings from the corner, subtle but felt. I cannot keep you caged. Wings are meant to fly. And so I listen to your secrets, knowing you will always leave by summer.

In our culture, discomfort is viewed as an enemy. We run, suppress, ignore. But this is an impossibility. Every element—every feeling—is a part of us. The wind within, the breath itself, is not our enemy. In Ayurveda, this is Vata, the dosha of air and ether. It holds the artistry of creation, the gift of movement, the spark of expression.

But ungrounded, it becomes disorientation. And when the seasons shift, so too do we. As spring and fall descend, the earth grows lighter. Leaves dry. Wind picks up. Our bodies mirror this shift: skin dries, joints stiffen, energy scatters. We vibrate higher, and sometimes, we unravel.

Over the years, I’ve grown tenderly attuned to this unraveling. I’ve watched my patterns: the distractions I reached for, the ways I avoided stillness. I’ve seen how misunderstanding these rhythms led to addiction. Alcohol. Overeating. Numbing behaviors. But now—I sit. I listen.

Mother Nature teaches us: what is outside lives within. In Ayurveda, solstices and equinoxes mark sacred thresholds. When we honor them, we honor ourselves. They are invitations to prepare, to align, to prevent imbalance. There is nothing wrong with nature—only our forgetting.

Many women are handed pharmaceuticals in their 30s and 40s to cope with the symptoms of perimenopause—anxiety, dryness, restlessness. But ancient wisdom reminds us: there are rituals for this too. Women once passed down the art of aging. Of grounding. Of nourishing from the inside out.

Modern life can obscure this. But the light of self-healing never dims. We are remembering. And this remembering? It is sacred. Living well is a practice. A birthright. Not a reaction to illness, but an art form available with each breath.

This season, consider these practices to honor your inner rhythm:

• Breathwork: Gentle inhales. Longer exhales. Morning meditations. Afternoon body scans. A simple pulse check can become a sacred ritual.

• Food as Medicine: Favor warm, moist, cooked foods. Nourish with smoothies, sautés, and grounding teas. Eat with presence. Digest with ease.

• Movement & Yoga: Heated flows anchor Vata. Core work and slow vinyasa stabilize. Restorative yoga, especially with sound, soothes the nervous system. Avoid rapid or erratic movement during high-anxiety seasons.

• Heat & Oil: Bathe in warmth—saunas, hot tubs, and herbal baths. Layer your clothing. Massage your skin with warm oil. Let yourself be held.

• Sweet Rituals: Bake. Create. Make naan bread or flax-seed brownies. Not to indulge, but to root. Sweetness grounds the flutter.

• Herbs & Adaptogens: Sip warm tea all day. Explore chamomile, lavender, lemon balm. Adaptogens support your inner ecosystem. Tea, for me, is a daily pause—a moment of inner stillness.

• Community & Connection: Speak to someone you trust. Hold space. Be held. Even virtual connections can remind you: you are not alone. People are good.

• Create & Cleanse: Read. Write. Make lists. Organize a drawer. Putter. This is sacred. A tidy space invites a tidy mind.

• Return to Nature: Let the wind kiss your face. Hear the birds. Walk slowly. Be witnessed by the trees.

And always, always remember—consult your trusted practitioners before making changes. Work with those who are trained, rooted, and aligned.

Final Reflection

You are not broken. You are seasonal.You are not scattered. You are shifting.

And just like the butterfly in my logo—air and ether—you flutter for a reason.

The woodpecker—fire and water—reminds us of rhythm and transformation.

And the tree—earth and water—grounds us, ever still, ever growing.

Together, these symbols mirror the doshas—Vata, Pitta, and Kapha.

And within you, all three dance.

When the wings tremble, remember the roots.When fire flickers, remember the flow.When all feels too much, return to stillness. It is never far.

With warmth, presence, and hope for this season of awakening,

Tina Chabot

Ayurvedic Health Counselor

e-RYT 200

Tina Chabot School of Yoga

The practices and recommendations shared here are for educational purposes only and are not intended to diagnose, treat, or cure any medical conditions. Always consult with your physician, health care provider, or qualified practitioner before beginning any new health or wellness practices.