I get overwhelmed with anxiety every time we have our team meetings. My stomach knots up, my shoulders tense, and I sit there and think (and wonder and worry) who is going to say what about me. I wonder if I’ve done anything wrong, and I run through everything I’ve done – every action, every single little thing — that’s happened throughout the day.
I run through a mental list.
I analyze the list.
Dread settles in my gut like wet cement.
It’s a nauseating process – to assume I’ve done something wrong, not know what it is, and to worry so much about it. I hate it. I hate the way my mind works. Why can’t I just not worry? That would be great, but it seems impossible.
The whole experience is horrible, and I have to go through it six days per week. Every time we do these team meetings.
The waves gather morning sunlight until they look like shiny, golden tubes rolling upon the shore. As the foamy water breaks apart, the light scatters across the sand like a plume of gold glitter before dissolving into the wet earth.
I’ve never seen this effect before. Could it be the black volcanic soil of this beach? Maybe it’s the Caribbean sun. Whatever the case, it’s beautiful–God’s artwork in nature.
– Written January 2014 on the beach in Juana Diaz, Puerto Rico