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Something I’ve been doing recently to help calm down is imagining myself arriving to my childhood house, coming through the door, and heading upstairs to my old bedroom. Each time I do it, I seem to ‘notice’ new details…remember, I suppose. I try to ‘look around’ in my mind’s eye as I walk through the house. I see small things I haven’t thought about in years, like the view out the window on the third floor landing (to the neighbour’s roof), or the linen closet where the cat would sleep, that smells like soap and has a fancy glass doorknob.

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