Blessed Anxiety

Morning Thoughts #284

I feel deep within me something that periodically comes out unsettled. Oh, I feel anxious, but I realized this: how lucky I am to feel anxious.

Why is it lucky? Well, let’s ask ourselves, what is the cause of anxiety?

When we put off something we need to do, a task we are meant to complete, we naturally feel anxious. To avoid it further only exacerbates the feeling.

So if we, at least periodically, find ourselves facing down a deep-seated anxiety, it might actually be a sign.

No, no mights. Blessed be my anxiety, it is surely a sign I am meant for more.

This slow evening after plateauing on a job that never was and could never be my calling. Oh, if that were all that I was made for, I would get off work feeling deserving of unproductive relaxation. Like those who know in their soul they have done a day’s worth of soul-fulfilling work, employing their whole self, to then guiltlessly collapse into relaxing hours with no hitch in their fall. Self-preservation, family preservation, mind you, is innately soul-fulfilling. A starving man hunts with his full self.

Anxiety is not necessarily a direction, but a confirmation of misdirection, a prelude to better steering. But more than that, a sign also that we are still chosen, still asked to do something more. By whom? Well, at root, ourselves, some fate that lives with us, trapped, buried under, lost in some depth of our blood seas.

Thank God for anxiety, God’s nudge that there is something put off, which means available and waiting. Better to have something put off rather than only an abyss beckoning.

Yes, there is yet something great to do. Something my unused spirit has been stored for, in absolutely sufficient capacity.

Oh, what horror it would be to have a life with nothing to show for it, and then not even anxiety. Anxiety, that new moon still pulling at our defining waves even at the darkest hour.