Story from the Road: Finding Calm in a Marrakech Maze
I entered the medina confident, then tangled lanes folded over themselves. Vendors called kindly, scooters hummed, spices dazzled, and my chest tightened. I wasn’t in danger—just overstimulated. Recognizing the spiral mattered; pretending I was fine would have made it worse.
Story from the Road: Finding Calm in a Marrakech Maze
I stepped into a quiet doorway, counted five objects I could see, five sounds I could hear, and felt my feet in my shoes. I repeated a grounding phrase: “I can move slowly.” Then I asked directions with one practiced sentence.