i try to remember

i try to remember
the last time i was this
nervous,
blood humming in my ears, even the
deaf side, so loud
that i remember the atlantic ocean
thrumming
one young summer.
my heart pounds and instead of
considering why
i recall the pow-wow, feet thudding,
color swirling, the steady beat of each drum.
air catches behind my ribs,
an invisible hand tugging it down,
further and further, and
the kite swoops towards tree,
red and light,
caught by tangled green branches,
and i cannot remember
how to breathe.

***

when i was a kid i used to hyperventilate on a semi-regular basis. my mom would hand me a brown paper lunch bag and tell me to breathe in and out, and remind me that my grandpa did the same thing. clearly i recall this on my first day of second grade, so many years ago now.

as an adult i cope better with nerves...but apparently not much better. buying my first home is...terrifying and wonderful. i'm excited to make the house my own, but at the same time, my "what if's" list expands with each minute, spiraling down and out of control, and i'm transported back years to the last time my breath escaped and i worried.

it comes and goes, these nerves, that scratchy feeling of fear, much as seasons whirl around, out of control. i know that it is within my capabilities to snatch it back and make it mine, make it useful, but today i cast my mind back, trying to find that anchor, and i'm adrift.

time to do something--activity always helps, no matter the kind, reminds me that life will continue, regardless of if i am at the helm.