Meeting The Guardian Called Anxiety

There is a figure who waits at the edge of the path.

It is not an enemy, though at first They may look like one. Eyes dart, shoulders twitch; breath rattles in your ear. This is Anxiety.

Anxiety is not here to harm you. Long ago Anxiety took an oath to keep you safe. Anxiety learned that the only way to guard you was to frighten you into stillness; to whisper of disasters, to warn of losses, to shout down the wild leap of your heart before it could carry you into danger. Anxiety is the old sentinel at the gate, working with the only tools Anxiety knows.

When you meet Anxiety, you might mistake Them for a demon. Voice is sharp; presence heavy. But if you sit with Anxiety a while, if you relate to Them with kindness and compassion, you begin to see that Anxiety is simply young in wisdom. Anxiety never learned that safety does not mean stillness, and that love cannot bloom in a locked room.

You can thank Them. You can say: I know you wanted to keep me alive, and you have. I am still here. But now I want more than survival. I want to live.

And when you say this, perhaps Anxiety's grip will loosen.

Anxiety will still appear at your side from time to time. Guardians do not retire easily. But Anxiety will soften when you hold the truth:

Yes, living and loving is a risk. Yes, the future is uncertain. But it is not only danger that waits there. It is also joy, wonder, the unexpected kindness of the world.

This is the gift we can hand down, from one heart to another, parent to child, elder to younger, soul to soul:

You are not wrong to feel afraid. But you are also free to walk past the gate. The Guardian will learn to trust you, as you learn to trust yourself.

For some practical ideas on how to relate to your anxiety read this:

What if Anxiety is a Demon?