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Author: Magda Walczak
Feel It in Your Body: How Awareness Helps You Tame Anxiety
You know that old song that goes, “I feel it in my fingers, I feel it in my toes. Anxiety’s all around me, and so the feeling grows.” Okay, okay, I know it’s “love,” not anxiety, but as a human with eyes, ears, and a brain living in the USA in 2025, emotions aren’t exactly running at full capacity. So what’s a girl to do?
Fortunately for me, I’ve built an arsenal of tools to help myself because anxiety has been my lifelong companion. And like any tools, knowing when and how to use them is key. But before you can do that, you need to understand what you’re actually experiencing. (Don’t roll your eyes — I promise this will be helpful!)
Body + Mind = You
Think back to the last time you felt anxious. Describe it. Write it down if you can. How detailed is your description? More than a couple of short sentences?
Now, pretend you have zero context for what you wrote. Read it out loud. How many different things could those words describe? If you wrote “tightness in my chest,” that could also be fear, excitement, a heart attack, acid reflux, or grief — not just anxiety.
In coach or counselor training, there’s a concept called “Hands, Heart, Head” (or “Sensations, Emotions, Thoughts”). It’s a check-in exercise to help you fully understand what you’re experiencing. Let’s break it down in the context of anxiety.
Understanding Your Baseline
When anxiety hits, pausing to analyze your thoughts, emotions, and sensations isn’t exactly instinctive. That’s why it’s essential to know your baseline — what you feel like when you’re calm — so you can spot when anxiety creeps in and choose the right tool to manage it.
What Are You Experiencing Right Now?
Let’s assume you’re not anxious at the moment. (If you are, that’s okay — just repeat this when you’re calm.)
Emotions (Heart) — What emotions are you feeling? When you’re not anxious, you might feel calm, content, or neutral. For me, neutral feels like autopilot — the emotion of doing dishes or vacuuming. It’s not exactly chill, but it’s steady.
Thoughts (Head) — What’s running through your mind? When I’m neutral, my brain still hums along. I’m curious, so I rarely experience true mental quiet. But during certain activities — sewing, gardening, walking — my mind finally stills. Knowing this helps me recognize when my thoughts start spiraling.
Sensations (Hands) — What’s happening in your body? This is the most crucial part. We often dismiss physical sensations, which makes it easy to miss anxiety’s early signals until it’s overwhelming.
For example, I used to get the classic chest tightness and throat lump. Now, thanks to the state of the world (looking at you, Trump and Musk), my anxiety manifests as a bizarre tingling in my limbs — worst in my toes, but also in my biceps and around my mouth. It feels like my skin and flesh are buzzing separately, in conflict with each other. I hate it.
To map your baseline, try this exercise:
- Find a quiet space: Silence your phone, get comfortable, and either lie down or sit with your feet grounded.
- Close your eyes: Start at the top of your head and mentally scan down to your toes.
- Name the sensations: Are you feeling pressure, warmth, coolness, tingling, or tension? Get as detailed as possible. It might feel silly to “check in with your ribcage,” but the more specific you get, the better you’ll know what “neutral” feels like.
Doing this regularly builds awareness, making it easier to spot shifts when anxiety shows up. Humans are incredibly adaptable — we get used to things, even discomfort. I could’ve brushed off my tingling feet as being cold, but by recognizing the pattern, I knew it was anxiety and took steps to address it.
Awareness Is Power
The goal is to understand your neutral state so you can recognize when things shift. A simple journaling practice helps: Every few days, write down answers to these questions:
- How are you feeling?
- How do you know?
After a few entries, look back. Are your descriptions getting more detailed? Has your language changed? Noticing these shifts is powerful.
When I realized my tingling feet weren’t just from cold, I reached out to my doctor. I already practice box breathing when anxiety builds, which helps, but this sensation lingered. My doctor prescribed medication to support me for now — fingers crossed it helps.
The silver lining? This anxiety pushed me to write again, and for that, I’m grateful.
So, what are you feeling right now? And how do you know?
Let me know — I’d love to hear from you.
Box breathing to help you relax
There’s a lot wrong with the world right now. My head and heart alternate in what hurts – and that’s just from “first-world problems.” I don’t want to belittle anyone’s experience, including my own, but it’s good to keep perspective. I can’t solve anyone’s problems, but what I can do, is offer a technique that helps me cope whenever I feel like there’s a vice on my chest – box breathing. It’s an easy and effective little tool to help you out in the moment.
What is box breathing?
Box breathing is a controlled breathing exercise where you inhale, hold your breath, exhale, and hold again — all for equal counts, typically four seconds each. It’s called “box” breathing because the pattern of breath creates a mental image of a square, with each side representing a phase of the practice.
This technique is used by Navy SEALs, athletes, and mindfulness practitioners alike to build resilience, enhance focus, and manage stress. But you don’t have to be in a high-stakes situation to benefit from it — box breathing is just as helpful in everyday life. I use it multiple times a day (a lot more lately LOL).
I like to know how things work and why they work so let’s first look at the steps to practice box breathing and then the mechanics behind it.
How to practice box breathing
Ideally, I’d start with “get comfortable,” but that’s not always possible when the world is burning around you. So let’s settle for “pause what you’re doing,” shall we? (For example, I’ve pulled over to the side of the road when driving to rescue my mind with box breathing. Once you recognize that you need it, just stop and take a minute to reset.)
If possible, sit down, with your feet flat on the ground and hands resting on your lap. I find that closing my eyes is super helpful as well.
- Inhale for 4 seconds – Breathe in slowly and deeply through your nose for a count of 4.
- Hold your breath for 4 seconds
- Exhale for 4 seconds – Slowly breathe out through your mouth for a count of 4.
- Hold for 4 seconds – Hold your breath on the bottom of the exhale for a count of 4 before beginning the next inhale.
Repeat for at least three rounds to notice a difference, but go for as long as you like. For me, a minute or so is ideal, but you do you. Also, if the 4 seconds on each step feel off to you, add or subtract as you see fit. Just keep all four phases even.
The science behind box breathing
In simplest terms, box breathing helps regulate your body’s nervous system and brings you into a state of balance. (Scroll all the way down for a few links to relevant studies.)
There are actually many techniques for “slow breathing,” many of which have a similar positive effect on your body. Take a look at this paper from NIH, which reviewed and links to multiple studies on breathing practices. I happen to know and love box breathing, so that’s my go-to when it comes to breathing exercises.
Box breathing activates the parasympathetic nervous system.
Your body has two main nervous system responses: the sympathetic nervous system (responsible for the “fight or flight” response) and the parasympathetic nervous system (responsible for the “rest and digest” response). When you’re stressed, your body stays in a high-alert state, which can lead to chronic anxiety, fatigue, and even physical health issues. Box breathing helps shift your body into the parasympathetic state, lowering your heart rate and promoting relaxation. Activating the parasympathetic nervous system helps your body return to a state of calm, allowing you to think more clearly and feel more at ease.
Box breathing helps balance your oxygen and carbon dioxide levels.
The even, measured rhythm of box breathing optimizes your body’s oxygen and carbon dioxide exchange, preventing symptoms of hyperventilation like dizziness. Proper gas exchange is crucial for mental clarity and physical relaxation. When these gases are in balance, your brain and body can function more efficiently, leaving you feeling grounded and alert.
Box breathing reduces cortisol levels.
Deep, intentional breathing has been shown to lower cortisol, the body’s primary stress hormone. High cortisol levels can contribute to anxiety, poor sleep, weight gain, and even long-term health issues. By reducing cortisol through box breathing, you’re giving your body a chance to recover and recharge.
Box breathing aids mindfulness and awareness.
The structured, repetitive nature of box breathing brings your attention to the present, much like a meditation practice. When you focus on your breath, you interrupt anxious thought patterns and create mental space. This makes it easier to experience a sense of calm, even in the middle of a chaotic day.
Use box breathing whenever you need it
Box breathing isn’t a magic cure-all for the chaos of life, but it is a powerful tool to carry with you. It’s a quick, accessible way to reset your body and mind whenever you need it. By practicing this technique regularly, you’re not just calming your body in the moment – you’re training yourself to handle everyday difficulties more effectively over time. So the next time life feels overwhelming, remember that your breath is always there to guide you towards calm.
Here are some resources to support this article and for further reading on the relationship between breathing and stress/anxiety:
- Breathing Practices for Stress and Anxiety Reduction: Conceptual Framework of Implementation Guidelines Based on a Systematic Review of the Published Literature
- The physiological effects of slow breathing in the healthy human
- The role of deep breathing on stress
- Mindfulness meditation improves cognition: evidence of brief mental training
Friendship Breakups
I read somewhere that it takes half the time a relationship lasted to truly “get over it.” What about friendships? Is there a timeframe when it stops hurting when a friend leaves you? It’s been five years since my best friend of then 28 years stopped talking to me. My heart hurts every time I think of her.
Losing a friend — especially one who’s been a part of your life for so long — can feel like mourning a death, except without the closure. The “half the length” rule might be a rough guideline, but the truth is that grief doesn’t follow a timeline. And friendship breakups can cut deeper than romantic ones because friends are often the people who are there for us through all aspects of life.
It makes sense that my heart still aches. Love doesn’t vanish just because the relationship ends. But healing doesn’t necessarily mean forgetting or not feeling sadness — it’s about finding peace alongside the loss.
Writing yesterday’s post on the stages of grief got me thinking about my lost friend. Then this morning I stumbled upon a letter from her from years ago. While I’m not big on journaling, I do love going for a walk, thinking, and reflecting. It’s almost meditative for me. I thought I’d share some reflective questions / journaling prompts that have helped me so far, and that will hopefully continue to move me towards full acceptance and peace.
- What did this friendship give me? Think of the good moments, lessons, and growth it brought you. Appreciate what it was instead of mourning what it no longer is.
- What needs did this friendship meet? Companionship, understanding, history, etc. — knowing this can help you seek these things in other ways. (As I think back on it, fostering kittens now gives me the comfort of “just hanging out” that I had with her. We didn’t need conversation to enjoy ourselves.)
- What part of myself am I grieving? Sometimes we mourn not just the friend, but the version of ourselves we were with them.
- Is there a part of me that hasn’t forgiven myself? Even if you didn’t cause the rupture, self-blame can linger. I honestly don’t know what caused my friendship to end. In the first few months, I thought about this to no end. It was exhausting. It’s easy to be hard on yourself so explore this with compassion.
- What would I say to my friend if I knew they’d truly hear me? Writing a letter or email can release unspoken feelings. You don’t have to actually send it. Getting the words on paper, so to speak, can he cathartic.
- Picture your younger self at the age you met your friend. What does that version of you need to hear? Can you offer them reassurance and love?
- What can I do to nurture myself? If it still hurts, then you need a little extra love.
Healing might take longer than you want, but I think the tenderness you still feel is evidence of how deeply you loved your friend. That love isn’t wasted — it’s a testament to your capacity for connection. And even if the friendship can’t be revived, you can carry the best parts of it with you, not as a weight, but as a reminder of how much your heart can hold.
Morning Mourning
Every day for the past month has started with a feeling of loss. I scroll through the news on my phone, and, inevitably, I see something that breaks my heart a little. When I wake up, I’m hopeful, thinking, there’s no way today can top yesterday. And then it does. Again and again and again.
Every morning, I mourn the loss of human decency, ethics, morals, law, equity, and of our collective future. The Trump and Musk regime have managed to destroy thousands of jobs, billions in investments, the country’s leadership in the world, and any hope we may have held out that they will do the right thing. And they’re just getting started.
SIDENOTE: Although my politics are clear, this goes so much beyond politics.What kills me the most is how shortsighted they are, especially when it comes to cutting science. All the research and innovation that we will lose due to lack of funding will not magically come back when a new president (hopefully) comes in. We are losing these four years and compounding their effect, just like interest. To me personally, this is the biggest loss that I mourn every day on top all the others that come each morning.
Unless you live under a rock, this is not new information to you. While I can’t speak for every person, I think it’s safe to assume that many people experience something similar. I believe we’re collectively stuck in a cycle of grief, and unless we break out, there’s no hope of change.
Let’s look at an example – Trump calling himself “king” and thoughts that may have gone through your head:
- Denial – There’s no way he’s that narcissistic and that dumb. This must be AI-generated. It’s not even a funny joke.
- Anger – What the actual fuck? Why isn’t this the headline on the news? It’s unconstitutional! We fought a war so that we’d never have a king. Why isn’t he arrested?
- Bargaining – I’m sure I’m not the only one who’s shocked by this. I will call my congressional rep and they will help.
- Depression – No one in power cares. They don’t even acknowledge that it’s a problem. I don’t know what to do anymore.
- Acceptance – This is the new normal.
Guess what? Trump calling himself king came and went. So much has happened since then that it’s just a faint blip on the radar. We just accepted it as a thing that happened and moved on.
Depending on your media consumption and social circles, you would have experienced varying degrees of outrage at this behavior from a sitting president, on official government social media. Maybe you’re not “over it,” but is it the thing that’s currently occupying your thoughts? Was this the big thing you were mourning this morning? I bet it wasn’t.
It looks to me like the multiple daily shocks are deliberate. If there’s enough that we are given to react to, then it’s easier to do more. It’s a tactic to desensitize us to Musk and Trump’s actions. It’s a playbook based on psychology, and it’s working.
What can you do?
I firmly believe that awareness and understanding are what leads to change. In the first week of the new regime, I was firmly stuck in denial. It was only when I observed the cyclical reactions in others that it occurred to me that this is all too familiar and predictable – it’s the stages of grief. Since then, I’ve been able to recognize this in myself, and, to a degree, manage my own response to the daily deluge of heartbreak.
I encourage you to pay closer attention to your own reactions and how current events make you feel. Note them down. Once you’re aware of what’s happening to your own mind and body, you can try to understand it and maybe even do something about it. We have four years (minimum) of this and the human mind and body aren’t designed for such continued daily rollercoasters. It will break us if we don’t do something. Remember – you need to “put on your own gas mask first” before you help others.
Hopefully, once you recognize the emotions you’re experiencing right now, you’ll be able to get out of that cycle of grief and join the people who are organizing protests, lawsuits, and boycotts. We must take an active role and influence our collective future as much as possible. We can’t become desensitized to the illegal, unethical and cruel actions of the Musk/Trump machine.
Maslow, Stress and Dandelions
If the unexamined life is not worth living, then I think all set to reach my goal of 113. Sometimes I feel like maybe I should stop with all the questions already because I’m simply not that interesting. But I always surprise myself with what I learn in my self-examination. I guess Socrates was right about this one. Humans are surprisingly complex. The more we learn about our minds and bodies, the more additional questions we come up with. And on and on it goes.
A few weeks ago a friend asked me what I want my legacy to be. I don’t know yet, and I’m OK with that. At 42, I’m just 37% of my goal age so I have plenty of time to figure that out. In the meantime, the question of legacy got me thinking about my current direction and what I’d like the next 3 years to be. What do I want? What do I need? What are my goals?
I reflected on the ball of stress that I’ve become in recent months and what led to that (well, as far as I currently understand it). Stress is a symptom, not a disease. It has a root cause and it needs to feed in order to survive.
No, that analogy falls short. Stress actually reminds me of a dandelion. When it’s a small plant and blooms with the pretty yellow flower, it’s nice to look at. You may be tempted to pick it, but when you do, your fingers get all sticky so you leave it alone. Then it poofs up into an inviting toy that’s no longer sticky and (bonus!) it comes with an activity — you blow on it and it spreads its joy all around. By then, the plant has developed a strong, deep root, so good luck getting all of it now. Moreover, it has spread to other areas of the garden with its seeds, and guess what? You helped it! Give it a week and your lawn and flower beds are at a point of no return.
A little stress can be good. It can motivate and help us get into the discomfort zone where the magic happens. When it’s at the pretty yellow flower stage, we see it, but we leave it be. We may even like it! As stress grows, we may start to recognize the inflection point from good to bad, but it’s getting us results. It’s pushing our boundaries so a little more won’t hurt, right? Let’s blow on that sucker. And that’s where it all goes to hell. If we don’t address it, it spreads and spreads, and not only are the roots hard to pull out but it’s already spread its seed to other areas of our mind, body, life, work, family. Goodbye flower bed.
Photo by Viridi Green on Unsplash I’m at a point where I’m plucking those little poofs and blowing them in all directions. There are more dandelions than garden. Maybe if I blow enough, I’ll have a carpet of yellow and it’ll all be OK? Maybe?
No. And I know it.
So I examine. I look at the causes I’ve identified and make action plans to change what’s in my control. I know that eventually, I will be able to address the causes, but not overnight. My long-term goal is to lower this stress to the point where it’s not tearing my body apart from all ends, but short term, I need to get the basics in place so that things don’t get worse and I start making progress towards the goal. I need to start killing some dandelions, even if I know that they will probably just come back.
“Need.” It’s such a loaded word. We throw it around a lot but do we actually mean it? Aren’t a lot of things we say we need actually just things we want?
Needs are non-negotiable. If you need something, that implies you can’t go without it. Wants are negotiable. We might feel crappy if we don’t get the things we want, but life goes on. Wants are choices. So what do I actually need? What will help me stabilize so that I can continue towards my goal of major de-stressing? And how do I want to get there?
In times like these, a framework can be super helpful. I have a love-hate relationship with frameworks. They bring structure to thoughts and ideas, but I’ve seen them used as a crutch and excuse in my work-life so many times that they kinda make me puke a little. Yet here we are. And with one of the oldies, no less — Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. I’m no psychologist and I know there are lots of criticisms of this simple framework, but it helped me in my current predicament so that’s what we’re gonna go with.
Maslow’s pyramid is part of his theory of human motivation. It’s a pyramid in order to illustrate that you need the lowest layer in order to build the next one and so on. As critics note, life is a lot messier than that, but pobody’s nerfect so let’s just use it, shall we?
First, we need the foundational stuff to literally be alive and function (physiological needs). Next, we need some safety such as a job or health (safety needs). Intimacy and a sense of connection follow, be it through friends, family, pets, or community (love and belonging needs). Above that, we have self-esteem, status, and a sense of freedom (esteem needs). All four of these are considered deficiency needs. If you don’t have them, you’re motivated to get them. Once you have them, they become less and less of a driver. The top of the pyramid is the desire to be all that you can be — the self-actualization need. This is considered a growth need because it’s never truly done. They don’t happen because you’re missing something; they exist because of your desire to better yourself. This is where legacy lives.
As with all “life examining” exercises, my brain couldn’t focus on the problem at hand and kept going off on retraumatizing tangents of past experiences where the bottom of the pyramid was missing for me and I experienced true despair, depression, and despondency. (Sidenote: there are some really good D-words. Sandman was onto something with The Endless…) Reflection is great, but it’s annoying when it has the opposite effect than intended. In this case, more stress. Sigh. Thanks, brain.
An abusive ex of mine understood this hierarchy well. When I first began to understand his modus operandi (years after), I saw that he controlled my “love and belonging” needs by constantly criticizing others in my life and telling me that no one would ever want me. He prevented fulfillment of my esteem needs by always making fun of my achievements and questioning the strength of my skills and professional value. He degraded my safety by conning me out of money, threatening me when I tried to stand up to him, and reminding me of “my place” any time I felt a bit safe. (This continued for years even without him there. I only recently stopped looking over my shoulder but my heart still tightens writing this.) He even managed to destroy my physical needs by depriving me of sleep. He’d wake me up in the middle of the night, hold down my neck or shoulders, and yell obscenities at me. I didn’t get a full night’s sleep (never mind a good night’s sleep) for at least two years.
(That whole paragraph was very painful to write but it was part of my reflection here and you know me well enough by now to know that I will not censor myself, come what may. Now that I’ve put pen to paper, so to speak, I do feel lighter. Every time I write about this experience, another weight comes off. I’m getting closer to writing a full account, but not today.)
So what do I need now? Where am I stuck? What did my self-examination lead me to?
Physiological needs are all good. I’m actually an excellent sleeper, thank you very much. And that’s where we’d stop if we followed Maslow to the letter because my safety needs have some major issues. I’m OK with where I am with love and belonging, esteem, and even self-actualization. I think this article is proof that I’m actively striving to meet that highest of needs (hope you’re proud, Socrates). Life is not simple and humans are complex so our framework can be a guide, but let’s not take it as gospel because I’m living proof that you can be kinda crap at meeting your lower safety needs and still be fairly decent at all the higher-ups.
In a super off-brand moment for myself, I won’t go into details. That safety layer makes me feel not super safe sharing more so you’re just going to have to accept that. But now that I’ve mapped out my personal hierarchy of needs, I have a better understanding of where I need to focus. I’ve made an initial plan of action and I feel good about it. I know what I want to do in order to get what I need, but I also have options should my wants not work out and I need to course-correct. I also feel good about the fact that even though some of my lower needs are not met, I’m quite happy with how I’m faring on the higher ones (taps own shoulder).
What do you think? Is Maslow full of it or does the framework hold up for you? Have you thought about your needs (vs your wants)? Is self-actualization an ongoing need for you or have you “reached nirvana?”