Breathe Again: 5 Simple Ways to Calm Anxiety Naturally

A personal story on anxiety and how I find my way through it

woman standing in a field.

There are days I wake up already holding my breath.

Sometimes the anxiety hits before I even open my eyes—like my body is bracing for something before I have time to name it.

Other times, it’s slower… it waits until I check my phone, read a message, remember everything I haven’t done yet, and then—just like that—I’m in it.

That quiet panic.

That tightness in my chest.

That familiar sense of not enoughness—not fast enough, not calm enough, not together enough.

Anxiety, for me, doesn’t always come in big waves.

Sometimes it’s a low hum in the background.

Sometimes it’s pretending I’m fine on a Zoom call while my heart races beneath the surface. Sometimes it’s feeling like I have to hold everything—work, relationships, grief, my future—without falling apart.

And I don’t always know why it starts.

But I do know how to find my way back.

Back to myself.

Back to breath.

Back to something steady inside me.

What Helps Me Come Back to Myself

1. Naming It (Without Shaming It)

One of the biggest things I’ve learned is: trying to push anxiety away only makes it louder.

So now, I speak to it like a visitor instead of an enemy. I say:

“Okay. You’re here again. I see you. Let’s breathe together.”

Just naming that I’m anxious is a kindness to my nervous system. It tells my body: you’re not being ignored anymore.

2. Hand on Heart, Feet on Ground

When the spiral starts, I pause.

I put my hand on my heart or stomach.

I press my feet into the floor.

I remind myself I am still here.

Still safe.

Still worthy.

It sounds simple.

But sometimes the smallest gestures are the ones that save me.

3. One Task. Not All of Them.

I used to try to power through anxiety by doing more.

Now I ask: what’s the next right thing I can do with the energy I have?

I pick one task.

One email.

One deep breath.

Everything else can wait.

4. Music, Movement, or Stillness

Some days I need music that holds me.

Some days I need to cry.

Some days I need to walk or drive without a destination.

Other days, I need to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling.

It’s not about fixing the anxiety.

It's about making space for it to soften.

5. I Remind Myself: This Moment Isn’t Forever

When I’m in the thick of it, my anxiety tells me this feeling will never end.

That I’ll always be spinning.

Always struggling.

Always behind.

But I’ve lived through enough waves now to know—this moment is not the whole story

It will pass.

I will breathe again.

And not just shallow survival breaths—but deep, steady, soul-filled ones.

If You're Reading This in the Middle of the Storm

looking through the umbrella.

I don’t have a cure for anxiety.

But I do have this:

You’re not broken for feeling this.

You’re not weak for needing to pause.

You're not alone in the chaos.

Take a breath right here, with me.

Place your hand on your chest.

Feel your body.

And whisper:

“I’m still here.”

That is enough for today.

That is more than enough.

—

Breathe again.

And again.

And again.

You don’t have to get it perfect.

You just have to stay with yourself.