Recently, I was challenged to do something a little scary.​
Not outrageous like facing a lion — just sending an email to someone I didn’t know. Not a big deal on the surface. But my nervous system didn’t agree.

Anxiety is an old friend of mine. In recent years, though, it’s been able to take longer naps as I’ve learned how to take better care of it. Sometimes I even forget it exists. But that day, when I sat down to compose the email, it woke up fast. My mind went blank, my chest and throat tightened, breathing suddenly felt hard.

Good thing I know that place. I’ve been there before — and I know what to do.

First, I reminded myself it wasn’t urgent. I could take a few deep breaths. Extra-long exhales. Thankfully, I’ve practiced this enough that when I need it, it comes naturally. After a few breaths, I felt calmer. Then I moved into another technique: 5-4-3-2-1 grounding.

I noticed five things I could see — the plant on my desk with its bright red pot, my colourful pens, the beads, the desk lamp, the tiny hummingbird charm.
I touched four things — the smooth, cool surface of my desk, the texture of my clothes, the embossed letters on a mason jar.
I listened to three sounds — the dishwasher humming, music in the background, my own breath.
I caught two scents in the air.
And finally, I focused on the taste in my mouth — not much there, but by then I was calm again.

From this calm place, I did something that might surprise you: I welcomed the anxiety. Instead of pushing it away, I told it it could stay. I’ve learned that what you resist, persists. Anxiety is part of me, often connected to old wounds and my inner child. So I talked to it gently, like I would to a child. I told it, “I’ll take care of you, but you don’t get to be in charge.” I found kindness, love, and compassion for the part of me that was only trying to protect me.

Only then did I write the email — and send it.

The whole process took longer than you’d expect for such a simple task. But the point wasn’t the email. The point was that by working with my nervous system, I made it easier for the next time.

For me, the season of “feel the fear and do it anyway” is long gone. Now, I feel the fear, release it, and then do the thing. There’s a reason for that: when we’re in fight-or-flight, our prefrontal cortex — the part of the brain responsible for rational thinking and decision-making — goes offline. In that state, we don’t have access to our clearest, wisest self. And trust me — the emails I’ve sent from that “just do it” place were not smart. They were downright stupid.

This is the real work: creating space for calm, and then acting from that place.

I hope my story helps you in your own process of calming your nervous system and moving toward more peace.

If you’d like support in learning to regulate your nervous system through challenges, I’d love to help. Send me an email at nataliya@nataliyak.com and let's talk!

Nataliya