Sometimes, when my mind is accelerating down the anxiety slope, I find that mentally reciting poetry can provide an alternative, soothing focus. Here's one of my favourites by Philip Larkin....

Days

What are days for?
Days are where we live.
They come, they wake us
Time and time over.
They are to be happy in:
Where can we live but days?

Ah, solving that question
Brings the priest and the doctor
In their long coats
Running over the fields.

-- Philip Larkin


Jim