I’ve been a bit more nervous walking at night lately. It’s the strangest feeling and new to me since I’ve always been very comfortable walking at night.

I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because the coyotes have been very active, with their eerie howls cutting through the stillness of winter nights from across the lake.

For whatever reason, for the first few minutes walking, I’ve felt anxious so I’ve started taking my phone with me. At least this way if I slip and fall and break my other ankle, or the coyotes attack me, they’ll be able to call Dave and let him know where to find my carcass.

As we age, it is only natural to become more tentative and anxious. A few years ago, I had lunch with an elderly friend, and they confessed that for the first time in their life, they were stricken with anxiety. They had confided to their minister, and found talking about it helped, but it was uncharted territory for them and you could tell it had thrown them for a loop.

I’ve never been a worrier—I’ve always considered it a blessing that if Dave was late when the weather was bad or my kids were out god knows where, I never worried about them. But as I age, anxiety is slowly creeping into my psyche bit by bit. I find I need to make a conscious effort to fight through it using deep breathing techniques, telling myself not to worry, and redirecting my thoughts. 

Back to my nightly walks…on the nights when I do feel a bit anxious, I power walk through it. With each step, the tiny morsels of fear in my brain recede, and I embrace and revel in the beauty of the night, the magnificent stars in the sky, and the black silhouettes of the pine trees illuminated by the soft glow of the moon.

I stop and listen for sounds of the woods. There is stillness all around me. I hear an owl swooping up into the trees. His mate hoots in the distance. I am calm and the feeling of anxiety has passed.

Now if the coyotes would just stop howling…