There wasn’t a single place I could go during a rainstorm and feel safe. There wasn’t a single place in that damn office where I could allow my panicky feelings to de-escalate.

Each downpour filled the entire office with an ambient white noise that spiked my adrenaline level. When it rained, I couldn’t sit still.

What do you have to say about anxiety? Can you work it into a haiku?

But it’s finally time to emerge from those fluorescent-lit caves that we call home during the coldest months. It’s time to get back outside and reconnect with nature after avoiding it for so long.

Birds do self-mutilate sometimes. It’s not uncommon. They either pick their feathers out, break their feathers, or pick at their skin. (And BOY is it stressful for their human companions.)

The shortest day of the year is the day when the earth betrays us and withholds the sunlight we need to lift our mood, to grow, and to thrive. But it all gets better from here.

I’ve always tried to keep a wall of separation erected between nature and technology. On my most recent camping trip, I left my iPod at home and my cell phone in the car. I made my fiance leave his new iPad at home.