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"Shhh. No one knows I&amp;#039;m here. It&amp;#039;s 10:17 A.M., and the children are watching Jimmy Neutron; DH (Dear Husband) is out for a run. I light a candle, take a breath. And grin. I&amp;#039;m giddy. No one knows I eked out space in our front room two days ago, pushing aside mountains of clutter to unearth my altar and set the Japanese screen out a foot or two from the wall \u2014 just enough room for a cushion to sit on. My heart sang every time I thought of tiptoeing behind the screen, and now here I am, in my little cocoon. This room used to be my yoga space, before it was taken over one Christmas by a trampoline and a drum set. And then, as fast as I could move things out, more stuff came in \u2014 beach bags, stacks of books to be donated, socks to be sorted, a printer, an air hockey table, for crying out loud. How did this happen? Back when I was a busy executive, I thought downtime was a waste of time. I felt in charge of so much \u2014 what would the world come to if I didn&amp;#039;t use every second to produce or plan? I would have mocked the idea of needing a place just to sit still. Then life became more complicated, unpredictable. It set me spinning, running, falling, and yoga caught me, centered me. Now the only way I keep it together is by going inside. I meditate on the fly: before saying good night, while the kids are in time-out. Deep breaths. Portable peace.  I&amp;#039;ve been overwhelmed this year, both by the joy of our children and their busy lives (who can resent their art projects, their books, their toys?) and by multiple crises that took precedence over everything else, letting it all pile up over every square inch. To the point where I bemoaned to my yoga teacher, &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;ll never be able to clear it out, and even if I do, it&amp;#039;ll just pile up again.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;You don&amp;#039;t need much,&amp;quot; she said. &amp;quot;Just room to sit.&amp;quot; And suddenly, I could see it.  Clearing an entire room is too much to take on. But an altar, a candle, and a cushion? Make way! Here I am. Breathing in, breathing out. 10:22 A.M. DH is back. I blow out the candle.  Oh, well, I think, it&amp;#039;s a start. One moment, one point of peace, will surely lead to more. I go find him and whisper, &amp;quot;Come and see.&amp;quot; He looks behind the screen, and then at the rest of the room. &amp;quot;Let&amp;#039;s move the printer out of here,&amp;quot; he says. And we do.  Got a secret hiding place? Join us starting in January for Blogger Fridays on facebook.com/goodhousekeeping. Patty Chang Anker is a publicist turned yoga teacher; visit her at upside-down-patty.blogspot.com. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/entertainment/a18335/patty-chang-anker-stress-relief-technique/>