I once lived a perfect day. It started with sitting cross-legged by an open window for 30 minutes of meditation, with morning light beaming vitamin D directly into my face. After that, it was time to stretch: one, two, three sun salutations, timing the movement of my limbs to long, deep breaths. In the shower, I slowly turned the warm water to cold in order to flood my system with endorphins, before stepping out and repeating a round of positive affirmations into the mirror.
In the evening, I chewed my dinner mindfully before switching on the TV. Then, two hours before bed, I put away all my screens and lit some candles. By the flickering flames, I wrote down all my worries in a journal and bullet-pointed how I’d tackle them the next day, before listing the multitudinous reasons I had in my life to be deeply, truly grateful. With eight full hours left before I needed to be up again, I lay down on my pillow, closed my eyes, took a round of deep, calming breaths and finally… panicked.
