I am safe in the here and now.

Take an inventory of this exact minute. Not the week. The minute.

Chances are the contents are unremarkable: a chair holding your weight, some noise outside, a body breathing without being asked. Nothing on that list requires defending.

Almost everything frightening lives one step away from here — in a Thursday, a result, a conversation not yet had. The mind travels there instantly and takes the body along, and the body reacts to the visit as though it were the destination.

Coming back is a physical act, not a philosophical one. Feel your feet. Look at one object properly. This minute is nearly always survivable.