Nothing New.

I've got nothing new to say, but I'm trying not to let too many days slip between my postings. I have a feeling that no one reads this anyway, nor will anyone ever find his or her way to this lonely little blog. I don't advertise it; there are no links to this site posted anywhere; no one even knows who I am or that this blog exists.

But I'm typing anyway, writing words for the ether to absorb.

And words. There are certain ways to say them. Did you know that, if you slow down your speech, you can achieve a slight calming effect? This method is called "slow talk" or "calm talk" by the Social Anxiety Institute. It's supposed to help combat that awful anxiety that can accompany the act of speaking up.

I liken slow talk to eating a really good meal. When you've barely had a bite all day, and you're lucky enough to have a delicious dinner placed under your nose, you might be tempted to wolf it down in one gulp. (Hello, me.) But if you have any sense, you'll slow down and savor every single bite, sucking on every morsel to ensure you don't miss a moment of its sheer delight.

I try to do the same with my speech. I slow down the flow of words just enough to lick the consontants and taste the vowels so that each syllable is complete--a whole, satisfying bite. I can sit in a comfy chair and repeatedly, slowly utter words all evening long.

This is obnoxiously difficult to do in real life, however. When the flood of anxiety comes calling, it's next to impossible to take a deep breath, slow down, and taste the words. I have accomplished this a handful of times though, and the slowing down, obviously imperceptible to the other person, relieves the anxiety slightly.

Maybe if I could master this seemingly simple technique . . .