Put away your phone, leave your house and go to the beach. Sit on the pebbles or on the sand and look only at the sea. Stare into it: at the soft waves, the harsh waves, the colours and the textures as they roll in. They crash and the swirl, move and dance. The more you stare the slower your breathing gets and your thoughts clear through the fog of emails, bills and stress. None of that matters, only the never-ending throb of the tide, the wind and the bids that swing and dive above it.
As you walk away you can feel that your body has physically changed and you feel whole again. The walk takes you past the end of somebody’s garden and overhanging their wall is an old fig tree, ripe with fruit. It would be rude not to – carefully pick one of the fruit, if a leaf comes with it then so be it. As you continue your walk you can taste the salt of the sea on your lips and as you lift a finger to wipe it away you realise the fig and it’s leaf are still clutched between your fingers – the green and fruity aromas mix with the salty calm and you smile at the day.