Friday morning, I rehearsed the opening line for the tenth time in my head

On Friday morning I stood holding the subway strap, my lips moving without a sound. It was the opening line of the team presentation at eleven. "Good morning, I'll walk you through this quarter's results." I had started memorizing it last night, but the more I rehearsed it, the stranger it felt. By about the tenth time, every single word kept slipping away from me.

It was the same after I got to the office. I sat at my desk and flipped through the slides one by one, and even though nothing was wrong, I went back to the beginning and flipped through them again. The material had been finished yesterday. Still, my hands kept doing something I had not asked them to do. When the coworker at the next desk asked if I wanted to get coffee, I only shook my head. My mouth was completely dry.

At the restroom sink I washed my hands and rolled my sleeves up once and back down. My fingertips were colder than I had expected. There were forty minutes left before the presentation, the clock seemed to be running slower than usual, and there was no more preparation I could do. Even knowing that, my mind kept saying, "Just one more time."

Instead of rehearsing it once more

Back at my desk, I took out my phone and opened still().

You will keep whoever’s mind is steadfast in perfect peace, because he trusts in you.

Isaiah 26:3 (WEB)

"perfect peace." What caught my eye first was the word "perfect" sitting right beside "peace." It made the peace read as something full and whole. I had repeated the same sentence ten times and had not felt even slightly easier, but this line seemed to hold a peace that was complete. And at the end came "because he trusts in you." It seemed to tell a mind that had leaned only on the memorized sentence that there was somewhere else to lean. I did not think saying the opening line for the eleventh time would make it any steadier; instead, I followed that one line with my eyes once more. It felt as if my lips, which had been reciting the memorized sentence, loosened a little.

I still could not tell whether the presentation would go well. But when I rested my palms on the desk and breathed out slowly three times, my lips trembled a little less. I decided not to flip through the slides anymore. I drank a sip of water, closed my laptop and picked it up. The hallway to the meeting room felt a little longer than usual, but with my attention on the soles of my feet touching the floor, my steps were not rushed. As I sat down, I decided to wait and see how the opening line would come out of my mouth when the time came.

Today's breath — Just check one thing today: whether the soles of the feet are touching the floor.