Here is something you probably have experienced while traveling: From checking in for the flight to arriving at the airport and taxiing out to the runway, there is this feeling that you are almost holding your breath until the moment the plane rises in the sky and you can feel the landing gear folding up underneath the seats. 

And throughout this entire process, there is the abiding fear that the flight will not only be delayed but canceled altogether, leaving you stranded in the airport.

While flying can heighten our feeling that uncontrollable factors may derail what we desire, it’s not unlike what happens so often in life. Whether it is a big test coming up, an impending job change, a baby being born, or just one of countless typical engagements on our calendar, the idea of anxious anticipation is a common phenomenon. If you are like me, you often feel like you are holding your breath, just hoping to reach a finality. And whether we are just “coming up for air” during a challenging period or “breathing a sigh of relief” when all is finally done, our vernacular well represents this universal human experience. 

Still, just because it is a ubiquitous phenomenon doesn’t mean it is a healthy or formative one, especially if it repeatedly occurs in situations where circumstances work out fine or where the risk is low. But even beyond this, having especially noticed this in my own life, it seems that maybe even a bigger detriment than the strife and stress that this phenomenon can cause is the loss of countless opportunities for joy and peace when our breath is at bay.

Said another way, in the minutes, hours and days (or more) between the onset of a stressor (good or bad) and the final exhalation lies an incredible amount of living, if you consider this over a lifespan. Consider that ,with so much time and focus lost in worrying about what may come, what is inherently lost or diminished are the moments that are now. These present moments have much potential for peace, promise and joy, but because they are shrouded by the worry that we feel, it is unlikely that we will experience them to the fullness that we desire. 

Again, this is such a common human experience that I daresay we might rarely question whether there is a more desirable way to manage these anxious periods of anticipation. But one of the things that I have noticed that seems to make a significant improvement involves our intentional focus on recognizing the discreteness in what otherwise might feel like a continuous block of time, in which we are being swept into a sea of our anxiety. 

Let’s take a lead-in to a surgery that is coming up next week. While it is completely normal and healthy to feel a certain degree of anxiety about what may happen, the question is just what you do with all the time that precedes this. While people might take differing surface approaches to managing this waiting period, chances are that what you do externally is not going to be as important as how you manage it internally. Even the most fun activities might fail to evoke the desired pleasure if our minds can’t stop thinking about a looming discomfort. And while surgery (fortunately) isn’t a frequent occurrence, the internal approach to manage this can carry over to more routine stressors, such as an administrative meeting at work.

It is during these times of anticipation that I have found that harnessing the discreteness of so many moments that exist, whether it be a few quiet seconds sitting at a stoplight, a walk across campus or a pleasant interaction at home, has a way of disconnecting the anxious tether and creating pockets of sanctity and peace from what first may appear to be an unbroken line of stress. Yet within these distinct moments, there is something that brings peace to such moments. This something is gratitude.

As the purest antidote to anxiety, moments of intentional gratitude, even if it is hard to summon the emotion desired to feel thankful, solidify these discrete moments into places of purpose, and spaces by which the relativity of time becomes almost palpable. This brings a rising, acute understanding that what might have seemed overwhelming at first (or second) glance is now manageable. Difficult, yes. Painful, maybe. Undesirable, for sure. But certainly not something to despair about in a way that vanquishes so many beautiful moments that lie in wait, if only we are present enough to claim them. 

It is in this process done repeatedly that life carries on, slow enough to savor the goodness and quick enough to find ourselves at home on a quiet Friday evening, reflecting on just how we made it through another week despite the worries otherwise. Just like a sunrise breaking through a seemingly impenetrable wilderness, so the week that passed was full of sparkling rays that might have otherwise been hidden if not for our intentional gratitude in seeing the varied, stately trees that made up this vast forest of our lives.