Everyday life should not be fraught with such tension. For Janice, even the most routine parts of her dash, such as the commute to work, had her muscles in knots, worms of anxiety writhing in her stomach while she silently worked through meditation mantras in her scattered mind.
On exceptionally chaotic days, the stillness refused to come and so she was forced to make the anxiety work for her. She stopped trying to get her mind to quiet and lifted her eyes to the throng of humanity around her. People watching could sometimes Have a calming effects that her meditation just couldn't penetrate. She would step into the skin of the ppl around her and walk around for a while.
Only figuratively of course. She wasn't some sort of psychic or other metaphysical mumbo jumbo. She'd just imagine what it was like to be them. Perhaps that young lady three seats down on the subway was sick of being a natural blonde. That elderly looking gentleman might be sicker than he looks and waiting desperately for a matching organ donor for a life saving surgery.
As she imagined, her own stress and worry lessened, the tension melting from her frame until her chest was no longer constricted and her spine no longer felt like it might snap under the force of her own muscle tension.
The train stopped and it was time to walk in her own skin as she stepped out of the car and onto the platform once more.
