Worst sentence in the world. 

“Just stay calm.”

This is usually spoken right when whoever is the blessed recipient of this advice is heated. Angry. Anxious. Terrified. 

“Just stay calm.”

If I’m angry, my immediate response is an infuriated “I AM CALM!” Yeah. Right. I might not have been calm before, but I am sure as hell absolutely ready to shred whoever had the intelligence to say this to me. 

“Just stay calm” is belittling. It is negating the emotions of the other person, whether those emotions are warranted or logically inspired or not. ”Just stay calm” is nothing more than saying “You really shouldn’t be feeling whatever it is you are feeling right now or at least not that intense.”

My emotions are intense. Not going to lie. I don’t feel like I’m exaggerating when I describe my responses to intensely stressful situations as though a flare gun is going off in my head. Everything is powerfully red and burning and I can’t seem to focus on one thing because the kaleidoscope of attention seeking whatevers spinning in floating circles around my head.

I hate that I feel things intensely. I hate that my emotions sometimes feel like they are several times more strong than the average person. But I also know that those intense emotions help me to write, to create. And that it is when I am thankful for those intense emotions.

I do my best to swallow my emotional intensity. To siphon it out through my fingertips and into the keyboard. Or in quick steps along the sidewalk that causes my ponytail to swing and twirl so quickly that people make jokes that my hair looks like a propeller. I release my intensity when I curl up with Figgis and Leia. I bury it in my garden after I’ve ripped out the weeds, loosened the soil, and planted tulip bulbs.

I seek calm and peace. The miles spent on hiking trails are points when I find my peace, even when I am counting in cycles of ten because I am forcing myself to hike at least a hundred steps before I stop for a gasp break. When I stop hyperfocusing on the ground because I am scanning for every root, loose rock, or sideways step that could make me fall, I scan the forest, take in the massive boulders or rock walls cut into the sides of the mountain. I breathe in the shaded, cooler air and just…rest. That is when I am find my calm.

Or like right now. Staring at my computer screen. Writing these words. Mentally stretching to write another page of my novel because I am bound and determined to finish it and send it off. I am calm. I am deep within my mind and my words and my writing and my nothingness and my emotions. I am just moving fingertips and sounds breathing through the channels of my brain.

“Just stay calm.”

I wish. And I’m glad that I can’t. I have too many adventures to chase. Too many stories to write.