Enjoy this 10 minute guided visualization to help you ease anxiety, calm your mind, and soothe your soul.

This is a short meditation on finding gratitude for the little things in our everyday lives.

Happy Wednesday!

A moped pulled up alongside us revving its engine annoyingly. Naive 16-year-olds that we were, we kept looking over wondering what the two of them were doing.

And then, it happened. A third man ran up from behind, yanked the purse off my shoulder, jumped on the scooter, and sped off.

They didn’t get far.

We screamed and chased after them, alerting the locals to our terrorizing plight. As we ran down the alley where they had turned, we found the three of them fumbling at the bottom of the hill after the moped had slid out from underneath them.

A moment of relief. I’m going to get my purse back.

Out came the knife, threatening us and the locals to get back and give them space to retrieve their bike and take off with my passport, airline ticket, cash, and whatever else my 16-year-old self thought to carry.

“Without a passport, you don’t have a country.” My teacher repeated it over and over again in the weeks leading up to the trip and then daily once we arrived in Spain.

“Will I ever go home again?” I wondered.

A day at the Embassy and a reissued airline ticket got me back to the US and allowed me to live a relatively normal life for the next several years in the comfort of home.

Little did I realize that the seeds of my travel anxiety had been sown.

As I began to travel again, the roots of my anxiety deepened over the forthcoming years with additional traumas that surrounded many of the trips with my husband.

* Our infant son suffered a severe, life-threatening allergic reaction while we were on a company-sponsored trip.

* My dad was hospitalized twice when we were away.

* My dad died suddenly and unexpectedly while he and my mom cared for our elementary school-aged children.

That was 2009.

Since then, my husband and I have done short, weekend jaunts, but the long, extended trips sans children — not a chance.

Until now.

I’m stressed — but, excited. I’m anxious — but, eager. My stomach turns. My mind races. Sleep is fleeting.

The US State Department has four levels of travel advisories:

* Level 1: Exercise Normal Precautions

* Level 2: Exercise Increased Caution

* Level 3: Reconsider Travel

* Level 4: Do Not Travel

Portugal is Level 1. My personal level? Between Level 2 and 3.

What if something happens to our kids while we are gone? My mom? My in-laws? Us?

When I’ve traveled the worst has happened multiple times and it could happen again.

But, I want to go.

I want to experience a new country and culture.

I want to celebrate 30 years of marriage with the man I’ve loved since I was 20 years old.

I want to live my life without fear.

Google ‘travel anxiety’ and some articles will tell you the reason behind people’s anxiety include: a fear of the unknown, a fear of flying, social anxiety, lack of control, health concerns, and previous negative experiences.

The last one — previous negative experiences — that’s it for me.

And then they tell you how to manage said anxiety. Make a checklist. Talk therapy. Eat a healthy diet. Identify and journal about your triggers. Plan well. Practice relaxation and deep breathing. Bring distractions.

Yep, got it. I do all those things, but my anxiety is rooted deeply and not based on what-ifs. It’s rooted in real traumatic experiences that happened nearly every time I’ve traveled alone with my husband for an extended period. The one exception — our honeymoon.

So, as we travel abroad to celebrate our anniversary, maybe it’s time I flip the narrative rolling around in my head and heart and trust that this trip will be different. The plans are in place. The checklist is getting ticked off. I’ve gone shopping. I’ve started packing. The destination looks gorgeous and is bucket-list-approved.

Anxiety is the thief of peace, calm, and joy. With that in mind, I’m working hard to loosen the soil so new seeds can be planted — ones that will sprout new experiences and grow deep roots that will help me move from Level 2-3 to Level 1.

So, what am I doing to get there? Acknowledging the crazy thoughts. Writing down how I feel (including this article for example!). Practicing yoga. Being prepared. Breathing when my mind starts to unravel. Appreciating each moment as it comes and letting go of all the “what-ifs” that have come before.

Do you struggle with travel anxiety? Other anxieties? What tools help you move through stressful life moments? I’d love to hear from you in the comments!

Take good care and enjoy the day!

Bridget :) (AKA wife, mom, daughter, sister, writer, yoga instructor, and lover of my 4-shot morning latte ☕️☕️☕️☕️)

P.S. If this article resonated, please take a moment to like, comment, and/or restack. Thank you!

You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.

— Maya Angelou

A guided meditation to help reduce your stress and anxiety and bring peace, calm, and mindfulness back into your life.

A guided meditation that will help bring awareness, peace, and calm to your body and your mind. Sit or lie down in a comfortable spot and carve out some time for you!

Every year, as the date nears, I feel a sense of heaviness and gloom. It starts in May — my favorite month with it’s warmer weather, sunny days, leafing trees, and blooming flowers — and of course, my birthday.

Despite the joy of May, I know what’s coming. It’s looming large and I wish it wasn’t.

June 1. The period that punctuated the end of my Dad’s life.

My husband and I bounced out of the cab, bursting with excitement to see our six-year-old son and seven-year-old daughter after a once-in-a-lifetime, two-week trip to Ireland.

Our timing was perfect. We figured they had just gotten off the school bus and would likely be eating a snack with Grandma and Grandpa.

As we clumsily got our ridiculously large suitcases out of the cab’s trunk, we realized it was eerily quiet. No cars in the driveway. The house was closed up. No one was home.

Hmmm. Maybe they went out for a little treat.

As we dragged our bags into the house, there, on the kitchen counter, lay a note.

“We are so sorry for your loss. There’s food in the fridge. Let us know what we can do.”

There are pivotal moments in each of our lives that change everything. There are dates on the calendar every year that we eagerly await like birthdays and anniversaries. Then, there are what I call the “grief dates.” These are the dates few celebrate and even fewer even know about. And, if they do, they have long forgotten.

But, we know and they live large on our calendar — the divorce date of a marriage we thought would last forever, the death dates of our favorite peoples’ passing, the date of the trauma that forever changed how we navigate and view the world.

Every year beginning in mid-May, photos of the gorgeous Ireland landscape pop up on my phone — from the Cliffs of Moher to those of my aunt and uncle at the Burren National Park where we saw a dog wearing sunglasses and smoking a pipe. Among the many, many others is a treasured one taken on 5/31/2009 of my husband and I dressed to the nines holding a falcon at the Ashford Castle. With much of the vacation being part of a company incentive trip, we enjoyed experiences we could only dream of doing on our own. It was amazing!

While I trepidatiously held a falcon in County Mayo on May 31st, my Dad played what was to be his last card game of ‘War’ with our son, set it aside to finish the next day (because there’s school tomorrow), and subsequently died that night in his sleep at our home.

We all have “grief dates", and as the calendar beckons for our attention when they grow near, we each find our way through until it arrives yet again the next year.

Some post Instagram stories with photos and captions celebrating the life of a lost love. Others crawl in bed and wish the day away because the grief is too much to bear. Some turn a negative into a positive and find ways to help others walking a similar traumatic path.

Many deal with “grief dates” quietly with the heaviness of their thoughts and feelings veiling their interactions with unsuspecting strangers, acquaintances, co-workers, friends, and perhaps even family.

We’ve all heard the phrase, “be kind because you never know what someone is going through.”

As I consider my own grief dates, I think of all the people I encounter each day and know that of the 365 days on the calendar, for someone near me their “grief date” is coming soon. It’s part of the human experience and one in which we can all support each other.

If I say I tried a new restaurant, most people will ask me questions. What’s it called? What kind of food is it? What did you have? Did you like it? Would you go again?

If I say it’s my birthday, most people will wish me a ‘Happy Birthday’ and ask me questions. How are you going to celebrate? Did you receive any gifts?

If I say my Dad died on June 1st 15 years ago, most people will clam up or say “I’m sorry” and get uncomfortably quiet, and perhaps change the subject.

Can we begin to embrace the “grief dates” and support each other in this journey? Next time someone mentions a loved one they lost or a trauma they experienced, ask them questions. When was that? How did it happen? Do you want to talk about it? How are you feeling?

Acknowledge the “grief dates” — they are the periods that punctuated a change in a life once known. They are an important, yet largely unacknowledged, part of the human experience that begs for attention, love, and support every year.

What is one simple way you can you can acknowledge others’ grief dates? A phone call? A text? A hug? A conversation? How will you seek support for your own grief dates?

Let’s start a conversation. How do you handle your own “grief dates?” Do you acknowledge others’ “grief dates?” Do you agree/disagree that “grief dates” should be acknowledged? I’d love to hear your thoughts and ideas so please share in the comments!

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