“Do you know a cure for me?”

“Why yes,” he said, “I know a cure for everything. Salt water.”

“Salt water?” I asked him.

“Yes,” he said, “in one way or the other. Sweat, or tears, or the salt sea.”

― Karen Blixen, Seven Gothic Tales

Is salt water a cure for everything?

Salt water is integral to our bodies and our world. I’m thinking about saline solution, electrolytes and the parallel between our salty blood and the sea. We have a relationship with the sea. The ocean currents regulate our weather and balance out the solar radiation that bathes the earth everyday.

Something so basic, so simple–the balance of salt and water–is critical to our blood, our lives, the ocean and our world.

If the solution is to sweat, what is the problem? My problems can usually be boiled down to anxiety. Overwhelmed by all I have to do? Behind on tasks? Tight finances? Fear about the future? Relationship trouble? Concern for my kids? It all turns into anxiety.

Sweating is shorthand for anxiety. When we are anxious, we sweat. Is that part of the cure, not just an annoying byproduct of the problem? It doesn’t really help to be told to not be anxious. “Don’t sweat the small stuff,” they say. Sweating–and anxiety–is harder to control than that.

A different way of sweating–working so hard physically that we perspire–may be more helpful. Sweat flushes toxins out of the body and has antimicrobial properties that can break down viruses, bacteria and fungus. Exercise boosts good hormones and can actually help make you feel happy. Less toxins, less illness and more happy feelings certainly help anxiety.

When I’m in a good rhythm of walking the dog, going to yoga and, as one friend recommends, “doing something active every day,” it does make a difference. I notice a correlation between good moods and meeting the step goal my Apple Watch holds me to.

Working in general and not just “working out” could be considered sweating too. Taking action, not just staying in the same place mentally, could be curative. Circumstances are changed by simply doing something, anything.

There’s an old poem that I think about when I am at an impasse or simply at a loss. I can’t remember the stanzas, but the refrain is, “Do the next thing.” Identifying one action can get me out of a funk and moving, and once I’m moving, the next steps come into view. It can be the tiniest action–like doing the dishes, or even putting on my shoes, but it can start me one step at a time out of the swirl of thoughts that often characterizes worry and anxiety.

Sweat–ok, it’s a start.

I bristle at these kinds of prescriptions, though. I don’t want a pat answer: just go sweat and you’ll feel better. The answer cannot simply be “work harder.” The worries are real. It isn’t  just my state of mind that needs fixing. How does my sweat address the real concerns of my life and my world?

I think soothing my frazzled emotional state helps, certainly, and a balanced, rational person can approach the biggest of problems better than one who is paralyzed by anxiety.

I want to reflect on the other two sea-salt cures, though: tears and sea water. Maybe a real cure is a combination of all three.