It was the week prior to my closest companion’s wedding, and my nervousness had achieved epic levels. I wasn’t resting, no doubt. Some portion of that needed to do with the house keeper of-respect discourse I would give. I was startled and couldn’t stop my mind to nod off around evening time.
After day three of lying awake until the wee hours of the night, I sheepishly admitted to her that I was too nervous to fall asleep, and she—the bride, who was sleeping like a baby the week before her own wedding—told me I needed to try the “4-7-8” breathing trick.