Headspace Studios.

Hey friends, it's Rosie here.

Welcome back to Radio Headspace.

The other morning, I was pulling out of the driveway, tea in hand, mentally reviewing my

to-do list before I hit the street when I heard it.

A thud.

I had clipped one of the trash cans with the car.

Oops.

It wasn't like the car is totaled bad. Just enough to jolt me, spill the tea a little, and remind me that perhaps I was not as present as I thought I was. I paused, looked in the rearview mirror, and the trash can was tipped sideways in quiet accusation. And instead of laughing it off, my body reacted like I had just been personally betrayed by a piece of plastic.

I could feel it instantly.

My jaw tightened, my shoulders rose, my breath got shallow.

I muttered something under my breath that I will not repeat here.

By the time I hit the main road, I was primed.

You know that feeling.

When something small sets the tone and suddenly every red light feels intentional,

every slow driver feels malicious, Every lane change feels like a personal

attack. Road rage is fascinating like that. It rarely starts with the car in front of you.

It starts earlier. It starts with the trash can. As I sat at the stoplight, gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly, I started noticing the heat in my chest, the commentary in my head.

Why is everyone driving like this?

Why can't people just pay attention?

Why is this happening today? But nothing was happening.

Not really. I had simply left the house already overstimulated. The truth was I had slept poorly.

...