When I’m getting owned by my commute, I turn on the radio, then check my Instagram or email at every stoplight. By the time I arrive at work, I am as high-strung as a man on a wire. On the mornings I own it, I try to be present. This can take different forms, depending on a variety of circumstances, but most often it boils down to focusing on my breath, practicing a wide peripheral gaze meditation, and being hyperaware of my body and my surroundings. Sometimes I’ll just look at the different shades of green in the leaves, or see all the cars, the people inside, the street art, without looking
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