Clear skies stress me out.

They're meant to be these vast vistas of endless possibility and, dare I say, clarity. Indeed, they are - don't get me wrong. Nothing quite matches the experience of looking onward into this big blue space of the planet's light reflection, it's remarkable.

But it's also nerve-racking.

Now hear me out: what if some of us have been programmed and preoccupied with the latest and greatest life stressor of the day that being in plain ol' ordinary stillness feels alien? It's been such a long and arduous journey in my 25 years just to reach this point of jaded frustration.

Being still is weird, being clear is weird.

My generation, me, I don't know what's wrong with us. When we stress out, that's precisely what we do and we do it often enough that finding a moment to breathe only means waiting for your mind to weaponise peace against you.

Because ideas like rest and clarity are so foreign to us.

It's always WORK/STUDY/PLAN/DO/THINK/ACT - there's always one more thing to worry about, it's always go time. We went to school, we got the grades, we got the jobs, we started the businesses and we're still at it.

But the moment things actually calm down for a moment: panic.

There's nothing to focus on, and that's a dreadful thought. It's a nice enough idea to be ''free'' to do whatever, but we're the generation rewarded for following instruction - what happens when there's no instruction to follow? Anything you can think of? That's scary, until you figure it out.