Last night was one of those nights when I awaken at 3 a.m. feeling as though every detail of my life is a disaster—that I'm treading on thin ice, about to go under. Everything always seems not-so-bad the next morning, but I'm often left with an after-anxiety-tremor that can cast a pall on the rest of the day if I'm not careful to pull out one of my proven tools to ratchet up the day and my mood. This morning I bundled up and got myself back out on the pavement. Within moments my mood lifted. Music in my ears, sun on my face, and the spectacular view of the Charles River from the Mass Ave Bridge put all that mid-night fear into perspective: thin ice has a beauty all its own.
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