Instructions for Borrowing Calm

Begin with the body,

because feelings arrive there first.

Sit where your feet can remember the floor.

Name five ordinary things that are not trying to hurt you:

the chair, the light, the dog’s slow breathing,

The clock is still doing its one faithful job,

your own pulse, stubborn and loyal.

Do not chase calm.

It spooks easily.

Instead, lower your voice inside yourself

as if a child is sleeping nearby.

This is a trick I learned twice:

once in clinic rooms with beige walls,

once on the lounge room floor

with grandchildren stacked like warm punctuation.

Eat something simple.

Drink water as if it matters, because it does.

Your nervous system is an animal too,

and animals settle when their needs are met

without negotiation or shame.

If the feeling you want is steadiness,

Stop rehearsing disasters.

If the feeling you want is relief,

Loosen your jaw before you loosen your thoughts.

If the feeling you want is hope,

borrow it temporarily, from tomorrow,

from someone else’s steadier hands,

from the way a horse leans into a fence

and trusts it will hold.

To avoid panic,

Do not argue with it.

Guide it like a skittish mare:

slow steps, wide space, no sudden grabbing.

Say, I see you. You can stand down now.

Say it until your body believes you

before your mind does.

Remember: feelings are weather, not verdicts.

They move through when we stop building dams

out of shoulds, woulds, could have's and silence.

End by touching something alive.

A leaf. Fur. Skin.

Life teaches regulation better than language ever will.