I am walking, feeling my body going heavy.

The stroll I usually take on weekends all of a sudden starts appearing like a burden. I no longer want to continue. My body is tired. And then, immediately, my mind jumps ahead—searching for a reason to stop.

My thoughts race forward, calculating how far I still have to go. The way to the top and back seems endless. My body feels now heavier, the fatigue deepening with every imagined step.

The problem is, I am exactly halfway. Turning back or moving forward makes no real difference; either way, the distance is the same.

On one hand, I want to reach the place I set out for. On the other, I am put off by the uphill climb. My mind paints a bleak picture: a steep incline, sweat. It tells my body that not only is the way up hard, but it is annoyingly long. My unrest grows. I hesitate.

Then, something shifts.

I start observing my actions in the present moment. I step outside of my mind and take a closer look at what is actually happening.

In that moment, I see the truth: all I am really doing is taking one step at a time.

Watching my feet move, stride by stride, it feels like the most natural thing a person can do. My legs carry me forward—effortlessly.

That is it. Just one step, then another.

The sun warms my skin, music plays in my ears. To my surprise, I am not struggling. The act of walking isn’t difficult—only my thoughts about it are.

So I keep going, one step at a time, and suddenly, it isn’t a big deal anymore.

Even when the road grows steep, it still isn’t as bad as my mind makes it out to be.

Then, unexpectedly, I look up—and see something beautiful. Sunlight filters through the trees, casting patterns on the walls of a home. A quiet, fleeting moment of wonder I would have missed had I listened to my thoughts earlier. I stop, I stare. I take a photo and I smile.

Eventually, I reach the top—not in the way I had feared, but through presence.

The Truth About Fear and Anxiety

This small epiphany reveals a simple truth: fear and anxiety distort reality. How many times do we stand at the edge of something, convinced it will be too hard, too long, too much—when in reality, all we need to do is take one step?

When we resist a journey—whether it’s a project, a decision, or a path forward—we can shift our approach:

• Take one step at a time, literally – Stay present: the destination is not your concern right now.


• Trust that it’s easier than your mind believes – Your mind creates obstacles where none exists.


• Allow yourself to be surprised – The journey will offer gifts you cannot predict.


Fear and anxiety serve a purpose: they warn us, they try to protect us. But ultimately, they are what they are: big fat lies!

So, acknowledge them. Feel their presence in your body, in your mind.
 Say thank you for the heads-up, then tell your mind and body to take a rest.

And do it anyway.

Because in the end, you’ll most likely realize: it was easier than imagined. 


And fear and anxiety? Gone—like they never existed in the first place.